#i was so perfect for their little scam... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

megamindsecretlair · 3 days ago

Text

'Twas the Night

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FLUFF, SMUT. Cursing, teasing, PIV, oral (male and female receiving), fingering (female receiving), minor OC lore (sorry!) Use of pet name. Mentions of the n-word, all consensual. Bad jokes, a different side to Terry. Sorry if I missed some. (Some meta jokes and winks and self-indulgent asf)

Summary: Treating yourself to a winter writing getaway, you are startled when the homeowner forgot to mention the 6’3 handyman that came by to fix things around the house. You find an unlikely friendship with the man, opening up about your romance novel. But when you confess that you need some inspiration, Terry is all too happy to be of service.

Word Count: 19,198k

AO3 Link

A/N: WHEW. Forgive me for being late, I was nervous about this one. It's self-indulgent like a MF. I love this Reader and Terry SOOOO bad. I had a hard time letting this one end. So I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Snow crunched under your tire as you pulled up to the quaint cabin at the top of the mountain. You leaned forward in your seat, looking up at the address to make sure it matched. It did. This was the place.

You were glad the outside matched the picture. You couldn’t count how many times you arrived at an Air B&B, just for the lister to pull some fuck shit.

For now, it looked like it lived up the hype. And you made it in time to watch the sun set over North Carolina a little later. You gripped the steering wheel and squealed with delight. This was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

You rolled your truck up to the small, attached garage and got out of the car. You went up the wooden steps to the wide porch that looked ripped from a magazine. There was a hunter green swing set with a pillowed pad on top of the bench. It even had cute throw pillows to match.

Per the owner’s instructions, you were able to easily find the key box disguised as a lantern. You unscrewed the false bottom, retrieved the key and garage door opener, and replaced the bottom.

You headed back to the awaiting truck, looking back at the cabin. You still couldn’t believe that this was all yours for the next two months while you worked on your latest novel. Your family was sad about you missing Christmas and New Year’s with them, but you had all grown out of the traditions. There was no point to be around just to be around.

By the end of this, you were going to have a rough draft to show your agent. That was a guarantee. You pulled your beanie down before getting back in your truck and pulled into the garage.

You entered and turned on lights as you went through the house, familiarizing yourself with the layout and decor. The owner went with a sage green theme, the cabinets in the kitchen painted to match the small fireplace in the living room adjacent to it. There was a throw blanket in the living room with the same color and you had a hunch that the bedroom would be much the same.

The cabin held two distinct buildings with a short hallway to connect it. The bedroom was modest, room enough to not feel claustrophobic but it wasn’t huge either. You checked and true to form, the bedroom held nothing electrical in it.

The king sized bed was almost too big for the room, but it really brought everything together. And yes, there was a sage green throw across the foot of the bed. The artwork on the walls were as non-offensive as possible, full of pictures of trees and animals.

You pulled your phone from your jacket pocket and started recording. “Hey ya’ll, I made it safe and sound. And it’s like the pictures so it’s not a scam! I am loving all these windows but ugh, can these people do anything other than white curtains, white sheets, and pastels? Like damn, I don’t know if I feel safe around all this white!”

You giggled as you went through the house, checking things out but mostly checking for anything weird or creepy. No cameras, no drilled holes, no false paintings. You showed a few things around the house and then flipped the camera towards you.

“I am signing off, my loves. I’ve got my inspection to do. Love you bunches, I hope to be two-hundred and seventy pages heavier after this!” You blew a kiss into the camera and then sent it to your friends and family.

Almost immediately, your mom started in on the issue with you being out in the mountains by yourself. Your sister piped in to remind your mom that you were grown, still in the state, and it was pretty sexist to say a woman needed a man to protect her all the time.

“Exactly,” you agreed out loud. You put up your phone and then really got to business. You took off your purple jacket and hung it on the coat rack by the door. You took off your purple hoodie and hung that up as well.

You put on your headphones and your favorite cleaning playlist, full of hip hop and R&B oldies. Then, you retrieved cleaning supplies from your car and went through the house with a fine-tooth comb.

Some may call you…odd. And that was fair. You knew how annoying you could be about cleanliness, but you just really wanted to avoid getting sick. You turned into an entire baby when you got sick and considering no one was around to give you said princess treatment, it was best to remain healthy.

That and people were just plain fucking nasty.

Luckily, it seemed like this cabin was professionally cleaned. You mostly sanitized every surface you could find, dancing and shaking your booty to the songs as they came on. “Never Too Much” by Luther Vandross came on while you were mopping the kitchen.

You danced around the small kitchen in your mop slippers, singing into the mop handle as if it were a microphone. You sang along with Luther at the top of your lungs, badly, and let the song keep you energized.

You headed to the bedroom with a black light to check over the sheets and mattress. There were a few specks of mysterious origins which was to be expected, but the mattress was fresh. The sheets were clean as well, but you weren’t going to hop in someone else’s sheets anyway.

You hauled deep rose bedding into the room from your car and made up the bed how you liked. You brought your own pillows as well, fluffing it on top. Now the space was starting to feel comfortable. Your anxiety lowered inch by smooth inch.

You looked around the bedroom, scanning for anything you might have missed. Your eyes caught on the window, on the mix of oranges and pinks.

“Shit!” You screamed as you tore through the house, towards the kitchen, and made you a quick cup of tea. You doctored it how you liked and then added cold water. You took the mug and your own blanket outside to the back porch.

The owner had built another world in the backyard. The patio was covered with an awning that connected to the house. There were egg chairs and a sofa set up around a stylish oak table. Plants sat in planters around the area and there was a rug underneath the table. Fairy lights were strewn about giving the space a warm glow.

“Oh fuck yessss,” you groaned, sitting down in the comfy egg chair and looked out over the open back yard. The grass was vividly green, swaying slightly with the light breeze. Woods encroached the perimeter, thick with leaves and underbrush. Anything could be out there, adding to the mystery and awe it inspired.

You draped the throw around your shoulders and then sat in silence, watching the sunset. Soft blues were chased out of the sky by pinks, oranges, and the softest purples blending into the pitch black sky.

Stars winked on as if there were tiny caretakers igniting each one. Your mind spun with idea after idea, but these you would let pass. Not everything had to be about writing. Some things just needed to be experienced.

The tea kept you warm as the temperature dropped more and more. When your nose got too cold and you sniffed one too many times, you finally packed it in and went back to cleaning. Your playlist kept you upbeat as you cleaned out the bathroom.

Done with everything, you finally felt comfortable enough to shower. Scrubbing the day away with your favorite soap nearly made you ascend to another plane. You giggled to yourself as your mind spun once more, crafting a whole silly scenario just because.

You sighed. You needed a man. Well, okay, ‘needed’ was a strong word. But you were giving up comedy gold over here. There should be someone around to witness it! Then again, did you really want to explain your quirks to someone?

You shook your head. You were not here for all of that. You were here to get some much needed writing done away from your family and friends. You knew they meant well, but it was almost pathological with the way they relied so heavily on you.

As much you knew that they loved you, you also wondered if they even saw you as a human being with your own interests. They knew you needed to write and yet they came bursting in anyway, calling, texting, bugging to no end. You were tired of explaining that you weren’t rejecting them, you just needed to focus on writing.

Either they truly didn’t get it or they willfully ignored your needs. And you just didn’t have time for that. When your editor, Vanessa, suggested that you made enough money now that a writing retreat was well within your budget, it was like a wake up call.

Of course. The solution was right there. You immediately hopped on Google to determine which place called to you more. You always wanted a winter writing escape and a few keystrokes later, you were on your way with your family scratching their heads.

You dried yourself off in the bathroom and lotioned yourself up. You left the bathroom in a cloud of scented steam. You opted for a pair of panties and an oversized red T-shirt that reached down to your knees. The place had central heating but you didn’t want to turn it up too much. Just enough to warm the wooden flooring.

You spent the next hour making tacos, the heavenly aroma of meat and salsa making your mouth water. You cleaned as you went, not wanting to spend the next morning doing dishes. The cabinet below the sink squeaked and you debated telling Mr. Omar about it. It was something small but if you were going to be there for a while, you’d rather not deal with the inconvenience. Ehh, it was small. No need to bother the man for that.

All done, you brought your plate to the living room and camped out, finding something to watch. You had been hearing so much about that show called Rivals on Hulu so you decided to watch it. When the first episode started, you screeched at the TV. It literally opened with someone joining the Mile High Club.

For the rest of the night, you relaxed and zoned out. It was hard for you to truly relax, to truly turn your brain off and just enjoy something. But practice made perfect, so practice you will.

When you yawned for the fifth time in two minutes, you finally gave up the ghost. You turned everything off and put up the food you made. Then you turned everything off as you headed down the short hallway to the bedroom.

It was pitch black inside. Perfect. You only used your bedroom for sleeping and fucking. It signaled to your body that enough was truly enough. No distractions, no connections, nothing to prevent your body from sinking into sleep. And it worked every time.

You crawled into the comfy bed, soothed by the familiar smell of your bedsheets. Your brain blissfully shut up and you fell into a lovely, dream-filled sleep.

You woke up naturally early in the morning. The white curtains in this room were heavier than what was in the rest of the house, allowing limited lighting to reach the bed. Plus, the sun didn’t shine on this side so the added shade soothed your overworked eyes as soon as you got up.

This…you sighed. This was what you needed. You felt so good having true silence for once. No one around, no one bugging you, no one bringing you into their drama, no one leaning on you, no one calling you. It got to the point where you were beginning to hate the sound of your name. Too many people used it to demand your attention, demand your time, and then curse you in the same breath when you retreated and wanted to recharge your mental batteries.

This would likely have to become a tradition. From now on, you would have to choose an Air B&B to get the first draft over with. At least after that, you had the idea out of your head and you could cobble it together among the noise of your demanding family. The brainstorming stage was the most crucial; you could not afford distractions.

You were itching to write but you knew that you needed to eat something first. You got up from bed, scratching beneath your bonnet as you picked your way down the short hallway to the other side of the house.

A heavy boot clanged on something metal, drawing your attention to the kitchen where a tall man dug through your cabinets. You screamed, hopping in place from foot to foot. The man turned around with a jump revealing…a pretty face.

You ran towards the fireplace and grabbed a poker, brandishing it like a spear. “Who the fuck are you?!” You demanded, pulling your shirt down. Fuck. You should’ve worn pants. Well, no, fuck that, he shouldn’t be in your place!

The man lifted his hands and revealed a screwdriver in his hand. “Wait, hol’ on,” he said. His deep voice was unexpected, sounding like a crack of fire on a cold, wintery night.

You moved the poker around in the air, looking around for any other men that may be lurking. The cabin was small enough, the kitchen not too far from the living room. But, besides the bathroom, you could see everything at a glance. You looked out of the windows anyway, searching for any other cars or trucks outside.

“I’m Mr. Omar’s handyman. He asked me to fix the cabinet,” the man said. His scruffy facial hair framed his symmetrical face and hid his lush lips. His eyes were intense, the color of a storm right as it kissed the ocean, and his eyebrows arched severely. He was unreal. But hot or not, he was still a stranger.

His eyes drew down to your legs and you tugged on your shirt as if you could conjure more material. “You think I’m going to buy that? What are you really doing here? You read his mail?” You asked.

You hadn’t seen any mail laying around the place when you cleaned the day before, but that didn’t mean anything. Maybe he dug through the trash or hacked Mr. Omar’s emails.

The man sighed and shook his head. “You watch too much TV,” he said.

“And you need to answer my questions. Who the hell are you?” You asked.

The man kept his hands up but lowered his elbows. “I’m the handyman,” he said, putting emphasis on the word as if that helped. “Terry.”

You squinted at him as you looked around the living room for your phone. You had plugged it in before you went to sleep, but it was hard to look for it and keep an eye on the man.

He watched you and tilted his head. You scowled. Was he just humoring you? If that motherfucker tried anything, he’d lose one of those perfectly sculpted eyes.

You snatched your phone from the end table besides the couch. You held the poker up as a deterrent but the man - “Terry” - didn’t move. He watched you, hands up, calm as a cucumber. If he was a thief or a rapist, he was the worst one you’d ever seen. Or maybe he was the smartest.

You sized him up as you dialed the homeowner’s phone number. “We’re gonna see about you, nigga,” you said. You brought the phone to your ear as Terry smirked.

“I’d believe that more if your voice wasn’t so squeaky,” he said.

“I do not have a squeaky voice!” You yelled.

Terry smirked again, tilting his head as if you just proved his point. “Can I put my hands down?”

“No,” you said. Mr. Omar didn’t answer on the first ring so you tried again.

“Just like a chipmunk,” Terry said. Terry sighed and then leaned against the nearest sink, making you look at the full length of him. He wore dark wash jeans, heavy tan boots, and a black hoodie. He also wore a cream colored beanie pulled low over his head. It ought to be a damn sin to be so fine.

“Hello?” Mr. Omar’s accented voice came on the line. The subtle African pronunciations made you curious about where he was from but you were too chicken to ask.

“Mr. Omar! There is a man in the rental claiming to be your ‘handyman’,” you said, managing to give Terry air quotes around the poker.

Terry smirked and licked his lips, drawing attention to them. They were so pink and big. The more you paid attention to his features, the more striking he became. He looked like a painting made real. Or like one of those artist renditions of Egyptian royalty.

“Ah yes, Terry-Terry. Good man,” Mr. Omar said.

You sighed and turned your head. “What does he look like then?” You asked.

The poker grew heavier now that Mr. Omar vouched for the man. However, you weren’t ready to lower it just yet.

“Tall and like Mufasa,” Mr. Omar said.

You snapped your eyes to Terry, comparing him to a lion. Nah, he was more like a Scar to be honest. But still, the image wouldn’t leave your mind and your thighs responded, tingling with awareness.

You scowled at Terry who pressed his lips together. “Can I lower them now?” He asked, amusement written all over his face.

“Where’s your ID?” You asked.

Terry sighed. “I’m not handing over my ID to a chipmunk,” he said.

You squeaked with an indignant huff and Terry shrugged his shoulders. “Is that all you need?” Mr. Omar asked.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was coming by?” You asked. You lowered the poker down by your waist, business end sticking out in case this Terry character wanted to try you.

“Forgive me, my memory. I’m an old man,” he said. You rolled your eyes. He was far from an old man, in his early fifties and looked young enough to be a senior at college. The man kept himself fit and in shape, telling you all about his fitness journey during the many conversations you had about the property.

“Right. Thanks, Mr. Omar,” you grumbled and hung up with him. Okay, so the man was legit. But that didn’t explain why he didn’t ring the doorbell.

“I didn’t know anyone was here, I’m sorry. Just let me fix a few things on my list and I’ll be out your hair,” he said.

“Can’t you come back when I’m…” you trailed off and clicked your mouth shut. You were going to tell him to come back when your getaway was over but he didn’t need to know your timeline. He could swing back around and murk your ass.

“When you’re done gathering nuts to hibernate?” He asked.

“Fuck you, I’m not a chipmunk,” you said, smiling despite yourself.

Terry lowered his arms and then made a show of putting the screwdriver down. “Do I get to know your name?” He asked.

You debated giving him even that much, but the manners that were drilled into you refused to let you be rude. You tugged on your shirt and his eyes followed the motion. His focus was…unnerving. You cleared your throat and told him your name. He repeated it one more time and you nodded, a tingle going up your spine at the way he rolled the syllables around with that slight Carolina accent.

“Nice to meet you. Now that we’re good, can you point that somewhere else?” He asked.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Like you were even scared of it,” you said. You placed the poker down on the coffee table. The metal clinked against the glass top but your eyes were glued to Terry’s.

Terry chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. “You and your mouseketeers are s’posed to be good at fencing,” he said.

“You know what! You get on my damn nerves!” You said and laughed, giving in to his bad jokes.

“Can I do my job?” He asked.

You were still wary about him being in the house while you were practically naked. You glanced away from him, looking at how far the bedroom was. “How many things do you have to do?” You asked.

“Mr. Omar left me a honey-do,” he said.

You sighed. You didn’t like this one bit. You hadn’t planned on having a visitor while you got into the rhythm of things. But you also didn’t want this man to come back. Though…that wouldn’t totally be the worst thing.

You licked your lips and looked between him and the bedroom. You didn’t want to linger on him but fuck, it was like one look wasn’t enough. Every time you looked at him, you noticed something different about him.

“Tell you what. I’ll spread it out. I’ll only do a few things at a time. Deal?” He asked. He held out his hand, beckoning you to come closer. That was how all horror movies started. The devil himself smirked at you and you scowled, understanding exactly how Eve broke. Had you been her, you wouldn’t have stopped at just the apple.

“Deal, I guess,” you said.

Terry lowered his hand and nodded. “Deal. You won’t even know I’m here,” he said.

Riiiiight. “Just…stay out here. I hear a boot coming down the hall and it’s game over,” you said.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, making his accent thicker. The mischief in his eyes made you scowl harder. But his eyes dropped lower and lower and you pulled on your shirt.

You made a beeline to your room, slammed the door shut, and sighed heavily. This was unreal. Absolutely unreal.

You grabbed the nearest pair of sweatpants, yanked it on, and then took a few more deep breaths. You listened for any sense of movement, any creak of the floorboards, or sound of breathing. When there wasn’t any, you cracked open the door.

You headed towards the kitchen to find Terry exactly where you left him, bent over the cabinet as he fixed the hinge. At your approach, he stopped and looked sideways at you. His side profile was lethal, jawline sharp enough to cut glass.

Your belly flipped and you held it like it was a traitor. As if it could give you away. You breezed past him and grabbed your laptop off of the kitchen island, clutching it to your chest as you carried it to the living room and curled up in the corner of the couch.

From this angle, Terry couldn’t sneak behind you and you had a full view of him as he worked. You opened your laptop and opened up your notes for your latest novel. You had the major plot ideas down but you needed to flesh in your characters.

As you researched, adding pins on Pinterest for inspiration, you couldn’t forget that Terry was there no matter what else you did.

He moved with grace like he was completely in tune with his body. The delicate way he held and used the tools drew your attention to his long, thick fingers. Every so often, his tongue stuck out of his mouth as he worked, screwing the bolt down or digging for another screw. He was a distraction and a half.

“You need a picture?”

You gasped as you blinked, coming back to reality. Terry looked sideways at you, his eyes low and sleepy-like.

Wow, your thoughts were not holy. You mentally slapped some sense into yourself. This man was a stranger. A very fine, gorgeous stranger, but an hour ago, you thought he was going to kill you. Be so real right now.

“What?” You asked.

“You were staring,” he said.

“Was not,” you said and sat back on the couch.

“Was to,” he said, testing the cabinet by swinging it back and forth. It didn’t squeak so Terry dropped into a squat to investigate the cabinet below the sink. The stretch of the squat revealed a gorgeous ass to match.

That was it. The man wasn’t real. He had to be conjured from God’s own imagination. God was just showing out when he made Terry and it wasn’t fair. All that fine piece of meat…

Speaking of, you added “piece of meat” under your male character’s profile in your notes. “For your nosy information, staring off into the distance is part of my process. If you happen to step into my line of sight, that’s on you,” you said.

“That right?” He asked and you could hear the humor in his deep voice.

“Uh-huh,” you said. You typed a few more notes, taking in tiny details about Terry. The slope of his shoulders. The curve of his brow. His high cheekbones. Your male character came together more quickly in your mind now that you had a model to work off of.

The cabinet squeaked, breaking you of your thoughts. “It’s singing the song of your people, you know,” Terry said.

You sucked your teeth and Terry chuckled. “Me and you are going to fight,” you said.

“I got a ladder if you want to use it,” he said.

You rolled your eyes and pinched your lips together. He was really going to make you scream. “Are you always this annoying?” You asked.

“I can be worse,” he said.

You stared off into an invisible camera. You could hear the laugh track now. You shook your head and decided to ignore his shenanigans. You fell into a comfortable silence somehow, typing away as more and more ideas came to you. It was no longer weird that there was a strange man in the cabin. Despite being so big, he had an uncanny ability to take up as little space as possible.

“What are you working on? You a writer or somethin’?” He asked.

“Yeah, what gave me away?” You asked.

“The laptop,” he said.

You sucked your teeth and hid your smile behind your hands, pretending like you were suffering the sting of a thousand cuts. Terry chuckled. “I know you want to laugh,” he said.

“Do not,” you said and moved your hands, settling on a smile. That was all his fine ass deserved.

“You write anything I may have read?” He asked. The hinge on the cabinet knocked against the wood as Terry pried it off with the screwdriver. His hands really were huge and you briefly wondered what it’d feel like wrapped around your ass.

You pressed your thighs together and adjusted yourself on the couch. This man was proving dangerous afterall. One meeting with him and you were picturing disgusting scenarios to write.

“Umm, no, my books wouldn’t be your speed,” you said.

“I like nature though. I’m sure a chipmunk survival guide would be right up my alley,” he said.

“The door is right there,” you said, chuckling. He truly got on your damn nerves. But you wanted to hear more. His voice was smooth and deep, a weakness for sure. Your voice kink was in hyperdrive, teasing out every way he sounded out words and syllables to be replayed later in your mind.

“C’mon, what do you write?” He asked. He glanced at you briefly before returning to replacing the hinge. He dropped to his knees as he worked, putting him in a position to arch his back.

Mm, mm, mm. You eye-fucked him as he leaned forward, holding the hinge in place while he screwed in the first screw. He leaned back to dig into the tool box by his feet and you looked away, heat flashing over your skin.

You did not know this man. You did not know this man. You did not –

“Not gon’ tell me?” He asked.

“What happened to not knowing you were even there?” You asked. He was worse than your folks at home. If you wanted to be harassed, you would have saved yourself the money.

“You’re the one staring,” he said.

You took a deep breath to keep from cussing. Maybe it was his face. Maybe he was too pretty to yell at. Or maybe he was so pretty it spurned you to want to hit him. Because as much as you wanted to smack him, you wanted to smack his ass even more.

Sweet fuck you needed to get laid. Maybe you’d redownload that dating app your friends made you download after your last book. You deleted it because apparently, guys took offense when all you wanted was sex from them.

“I write books,” you said, chickening out at the last minute. It wasn’t exactly easy to tell people that you wrote explicit shifter romances. Urban fantasy settings let you have the best of both worlds. Modern technology combined with fantasy and magic, blended together, and created something that scratched all of your itches.

“What kind of books?” He asked.

“Paperbacks,” you said.

Terry chuckled and shook his head. “If you don’t say, I’m going to start guessing,” he said.

You groaned and Terry chuckled at your theatrics. You held up your hand. “Please, spare me. If you must know, I write romance novels,” you said.

“Romance novels…like the ones where the guys have a forty inch dick, eight feet tall, and long flowing red hair?” Terry asked.

You howled with mirth as that image was now seared into your brain. “Ew, yuck! Why! Why would you make me picture that?” You asked when you had enough air in your lungs to breathe.

“I’m just shooting the shit. That’s wassup though,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said slowly, full suspicion. Terry chuckled but didn’t say anything further as he continued working on the cabinets.

You went back to your brainstorming, filling in details about your female main character. You searched for her fatal flaw, the lie she told herself in order to survive before the meet cute with the main male character.

You sighed. You ought to give them names. But you were not prepared to deal with the ads on Nameberry or clicking endlessly on name generators. But you couldn’t very well keep calling them ‘female main character’ and ‘male main character’.

You brought up Nameberry first in the hopes that you’d find something quicker using the alphabet lists. A Q name would be cute. Qianna? Ugh, there weren’t many cute Q names.

“I didn’t know writing could be so hard core,” Terry said.

You looked at him over the top of your laptop with a scowl. “Are you almost done? You’re stinking up the place,” you said.

Terry chuckled and shook his head. “I’ll finish out the cabinets and come by tomorrow for the shower and air filters,” he said.

“What’s wrong with the shower?” You asked. The way he said it…he could make even the most innocent words sound naughty. Because now, you were thinking of the shower. And him in the shower. And all those suds dripping down his naked body…

“Water bill is going up. So Mr. Omar wants me to check for a leak,” he said.

You hadn’t noticed anything but you weren’t a professional handyman either. “How’d you come to be here, Terry?” You asked.

Terry slanted his eyes towards you. “Curious about me?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes. “I could go back to ignoring you,” you said.

“I’d believe that if you weren’t staring so much.”

You took a deep breath and Terry waved you off. “I’ll stop. I got into some deep shit a year back. I wanted to take my mind off it by being as busy as possible. Working with my hands relaxes my mind,” he said.

You nodded. You could respect that. “You live around here?”

“Mr. Omar has another spot up the ways. I work on his properties and I get to stay for free,” he responded.

You sighed wistfully. The things you would do to be able to have an arrangement like that. Only without the handyman part, because fuuuuuck that. “Your family doesn’t miss you?” You asked.

Terry took a measured breath and paused briefly inworking. He then screwed in the final screw and tested the cabinet door, no squeak to be found. “Naw. Not really,” he said quietly.

Duly noted. Shutting up. This was why you weren’t that social. You had a particular knack for picking up on shit people didn’t want to discuss. You hid behind your laptop screen, hunting for more names for your main characters.

Gabrielle was always a cute girl name to you. Now for the perfect boy name…Rashad…Theo…Wesley? Wesley and Gabrielle? That sounded kind of cute together. You put it on the list of maybes and continued hunting for different pairs just in case. Though each one you found didn’t spark as much interest as Wesley and Gabrielle.

“I’m done for the day. In case you had a change of heart,” Terry said.

“Nice try. I didn’t get any work done because of you,” you said.

Terry smirked, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Then my job’s really done,” he said.

You groaned playfully and put your laptop down on the coffee table. You had pants on now but you still felt exposed. Like you were still standing there half-naked. Terry’s eyes tracked down your body as if he recalled your bare legs as well.

You weren’t stupid. You knew he had a passing interest. But what man wouldn’t after living up in the mountains of North Carolina? You doubted he was starving for female attention and you had a book to finish, come hell or high water. Pretty distractions like him did you no justice.

You’d just have to pull out ole reliable, Laz Alonso. Thinking of that man already had you hot and bothered and the vibrator you brought with you would have to be more than sufficient to get you through the winter.

You approached Terry cautiously as he packed away his tools. You openly stared at his backside as he closed the tool box and stood up to his full height. He was so damn tall. Guys like him just didn’t exist in real life. It wasn’t fair.

Terry walked to the front door ahead of you. You kept some distance, not wanting to give him a chance to get too close. Your alarms were still on high alert though he did a good job of putting you at ease.

As he crossed the threshold, your stomach rumbled. Loudly. In all the excitement and hubbub, you forgot to grab food. Terry turned to the sound, stopping a few feet from the front door.

“There’s a bar down the mountain if you ever want to get out the house,” he said.

You pinched your lips. “That doesn’t sound too bad. But maybe not today,” you said and leaned against the door jam. The cold air blew into the warm house, instantly raising goosebumps on your arms.

Terry nodded. “You change your mind, let me know,” he said. “And if you notice anything that needs fixing, definitely let me know.”

You smiled. The thoughts he conjured…”Thanks, I truly appreciate it. But how would I let you know?”

Terry chuckled. He nodded towards the kitchen. “I left my number on the fridge. Need anything, just call.”

You glanced back towards the fridge and saw a few sticky notes on it. You turned to him and nodded. “I’m glad you turned out to not be a creep.”

Terry nodded. “I’m glad you take your safety seriously. Most people don’t. Lock up after me,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” you said, deepening your voice.

Terry huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Can’t hide that voice, sorry,” he said.

“Shut up! And get home safely, Terry,” you said.

Terry took the steps down fast and then spun around to walk backwards. “Worried about me, chipmunk?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, I’d rather not explain to Mr. Omar why his handyman couldn’t finish around the house,” you called out to him, raising your voice the further away he walked.

He waved to you, making it to his truck parked a ways in front of the front door. It was a big blue truck with a larger bed than most you’ve seen. It suited him though. And his rugged appearance. He didn’t strike you as the type to drive a luxury SUV and complain about his shoes getting soaked through from the snow.

You went back into the warm house, shut the door, and locked it behind you. You tapped on it once, turning away with a smile. Now…down to real business.

True to his word, Terry came over nearly every day for the next two weeks fixing things around the house. He managed to find a way to annoy the ever loving hell out of you, but he also made you laugh so hard, you nearly snorted tea out of your nose.

You found inspiration with the little things he did or said. Until “Wesley”, your male main character, started to move and sound like Terry in your mind. You would feel bad, except there was no chance in hell Terry would ever read this book. Ever.

The beginning came together smoothly in your mind. Wesley, the too-serious wolf shifter investigator, was married to his work, only going home long enough to eat, shower, and sleep. Gabrielle, the famous tech genius by day, was also a major thief by night. And as a surprise to no one, Wesley didn’t know he was investigating Gabrielle’s latest crime, the theft of a magic orb from a private collection.

Now…where could they bump into each other… a blind date sounded interesting to you but nothing too easy. Nothing too cliche. Hmm…grocery store? She stumbles upon him after shift? Maybe it’s a full moon and he protects her?

You groaned and backspaced. You were thinking too hard on this one. This one wasn’t coming together in your mind. You looked back over your character descriptions; maybe there was something there to spark interest.

Heavy boots stomped down the hallway from the bedroom as Terry had taken a look at the closet door. So many broken hinges. What were people renting this house for? Parties where they pretended to be animals, swinging from the ceiling?

You snorted at your own joke just as Terry entered the living room. You looked at him and stopped laughing but Terry raised an eyebrow. “Don’t stop on my account,” he said.

He chose a dark gray hoodie this time, the same cream colored beanie, and dark jeans. His toolbox was held loosely in his big hands, and your body flushed with heat. Lost in the brainstorming fog, you hadn’t had a chance to play with Laz and your body reminded you of that. Painfully.

“All done in the bedroom?” You asked.

Terry eyed you and you blinked innocently at him. Even as his eyes made your pussy flutter. Down girl, down girl, DOWN girl…

“Done. Unless you found something I need to fix?” He asked.

You squinted at him but for once, his face was unreadable. You couldn’t tell if that was supposed to be a double entendre or not. Maybe you were just a horny mess. You’d have to look at your period tracker to see if you were ovulating. Because at the moment, you were one step away from asking that man to fix your dripping pussy.

“No, no, no, no. All good,” you muttered. If you couldn’t get some, then at least you could write the filthiest things for Wesley and Gabrielle. As soon as you figured out how they meet.

Terry moved into the kitchen, setting his toolbox down. “I’ll check the windows. There’s a storm moving up here in a week or so. You good on firewood?” He asked.

“I can’t just use the heater?” You asked.

“What if the power goes out?” He asked.

“That really happens? Or are you trying to scare me?” You asked. Well damn. You didn’t have the power going out on your list of tragedies that could happen while you were out here. You knew it could happen but it was rare that you experienced it. One of the pitfalls of staying in someone else’s place. You didn’t have all of your emergency kits.

There was one in your rental car but that was inadequate as hell. You sighed. Fuck. You were going to have to venture into town anyway. You glanced at your laptop. You had the major story beats fleshed out, but filling in the rest was giving you a headache behind your eye.

Still, you itched to keep going after it with a hammer. You wanted to keep pushing yourself and see if you couldn’t solve your problem. It was like you just weren’t feeling this one for some reason, despite being overjoyed at the sexy idea.

“Not trying to scare you,” he promised.

You pouted. “I haven’t tried lighting a fire yet. So I don’t know about the firewood,” you said, feeling like you were five years old for not checking something so crucial. But! You would give yourself grace. You didn’t know before but now you’d make it a point to check everything before venturing off to la la land in your head.

Terry nodded. “I’ll check then,” he said.

“Thank you. Really,” you said.

“My pleasure, chipmunk,” he said with a chuckle.

“You get on my damn nerves!” You yelled after him as he left the house with a booming chuckle. You shook your head as you waited for him to return.

Though this was meant to be a retreat for you, to explore on your own without the watchful eye of your family, you kind of liked having Terry around. He managed to pull you from your spiraling about your writing in the nick of time. You were able to return to your novel with a second wave of inspiration.

But this meet cute was kicking your Black ass. Like this should have been the easiest part. But it was often the easiest parts that tripped you up the most.

Terry reentered the house, kicking his shoes on the mat before stepping inside. The door banged shut behind him, a strong wind passing over you before dispersing in the warm house.

“Firewood’s low. After it thaws a bit, I’ll chop more,” he said.

Mmm, Terry…chopping wood…mm, mm, mm. You had to go on a date with Laz tonight. Maybe a little post nut clarity would work in your favor.

“Thanks. Is there anything I can get you from the store? I’ll need to head down the mountain after all,” you said.

“Road may be slippery right now. You’d be better off going tomorrow,” he said. He pulled his toolbox closer and flipped it open.

You placed your laptop on the coffee table in front of you and then stood up, letting your inside throw blanket slip from your shoulders. You stretched, your limbs and back popping in some areas as you twisted one way and then another.

You crossed closer to him, going towards the kitchen for a cup of tea. If you were going to brave the outside world, you’d need a little help. As the kettle warmed up on the counter, you faced Terry and leaned against the edge.

How to put this without sounding batshit crazy? “It’s important for me to go today,” you said. “Preferably before the sun goes down.”

Terry scrunched up his face. “Is there a special vampire version of chipmunks I don’t know about?”

“You get on my nerves!” You said and giggled. Terry smirked with you as you giggled and you slowly quieted down. You cleared your throat. “No, it’s just important. I do take my safety seriously. Maybe more so than most.”

Terry eyed you with those beautiful eyes of his before nodding. “Alright, I’ll take you,” he said.

“Wait, what? No, no, no, that’s not what I meant. I can get down myself,” you said.

“No one said you couldn’t. But the roads really can get slippery if you don’t know where to look. The snow doesn’t stick to the ground like it used to and it can make driving those twisting roads more dangerous.”

You put your hands on your hips and stepped closer, nothing but the narrow corner of the kitchen island between you. “I don’t need a babysitter, Terry,” you said.

Terry held up his hands. “I’m not a babysitter. I’m a handyman,” he said.

You pinched your lips together to keep from smiling. He was truly going to make you put him through the wall.

“I wouldn’t feel right letting you go down the mountain by yourself. Not that you’re not capable. But because the roads really are that dangerous. And I’d rather not have to come dig your ass out of a ditch,” he said.

“Ouch,” you said, picturing just that scenario. The roads seemed like a twisty maze, full of sharp corners and narrow lanes. Driving up when the roads were clear in the morning hadn’t been that much of a hassle but you weren’t too sure about going back down. It was why you tried to bring as much stuff with you as you could, to avoid that exact circumstance.

“Go get dressed,” he said, his voice deep and commanding.

You prickled. “Don’t tell me what to do,” you said. Did he hear the breathiness in your voice? Because holy hell. That voice needed to boss you around more often.

Terry lifted his sleeve to look at his watch. “Daylight’s wasting,” he said.

You scowled. “I’m getting dressed because I decided to and because I concede that I don’t know these roads that well. Not because you told me to,” you said.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, eyes dancing with mischief. Ugh. You bet he ran his mama ragged growing up.

The kettle clicked as it was done, the boiling water settling down. You poured a mug full and took it with you to the bedroom and sipped it while you got dressed.

You opted for a simple pair of jeans, boots, and your favorite purple hoodie. You didn’t know how Terry didn’t walk around with a jacket as well. Every bite of air you felt outside chilled you down to the bone.

Leaving your bedroom, Terry eyed you up and down before jerking his head for you to follow. You locked the door behind you and then followed Terry to his truck. Your combined footsteps crunched on the snow underfoot, leaving footprints that quickly disappeared in the gentle snowfall.

You looked up towards the sky, grinning at the overcast sky. Flurries floated down, landing on your cheeks, eyelashes, and lips. You licked away a snowflake that landed on you and looked towards Terry, smiling softly at you.

“You must think I’m silly,” you said.

“Not what I’m thinking,” he said. You stared but he didn’t say anything more. He just smirked and held open the passenger door for you. The truck was bigger up close and you had a hard time holding onto the door and climbing in.

“Here,” Terry said, gently sliding his hands around your waist. You looked over your shoulder at him. He was close enough to see how pretty and long his eyelashes were. It wasn’t fair that he was pretty down to the individual hairs on his lashes.

His big hands felt like heaven on your hips as he helped you lift into his truck. His hands slid from your waist and you missed the heat of it instantly. Terry cleared his throat and then closed the door.

You eyed him as he rounded the front of his truck, climbed in, and started the car. He turned the heater on full blast and before long, you were headed down the mountain. The type of road you were on was paved and everything, but every so often, you’d hit a patch of woods on the side of the road and there were guard rails to prevent you from toppling over.

Terry took the turns slowly, but expertly. Your eyes were drawn to his hands every time the steering wheel slipped through his fingers while he turned. He kept his nails trimmed and clean, causing you to bite your lip, thinking of him fingering you.

No, you stop that, you chastised yourself. He was not a piece of meat. But sweet fuck, the packaging was pretty.

“How’s the writing going?” Terry asked.

“Huh?” You asked. You heard him, you just needed more time to let your brain get off nasty mode. Though, who were you kidding? It stayed nasty.

Terry repeated his question. He took a long turn that caused you to lean against your seatbelt. It dug across your chest and you moved it to a more comfortable spot.

“Good. I think. I can never tell. But I’m still trying to figure out how the characters meet,” you said.

“It’s that important?” He asked.

You nodded, though he didn’t see because he was being a good driver. He kept his eyes faced forward, driving carefully down the road. Every so often, the woods would break and there would be someone’s property, full of horses or cows. You marveled at a large brown cow hanging out just because.

“The meet cute is one of the most important parts of the book. It sets the tone for the relationship,” you said.

“Yeah? How so?” He asked.

“Are you sure you want to hear about all this? You don’t have to be polite,” you said, giving him an easy out.

“I like listening to you,” he said.

Oh. You smiled, looking down at your hands in your lap. You launched into the nitty gritty of romance writing. The less glamorous side of it. It took you a long time to learn when to linger, when to skip ahead, and when to let the characters give into the chemistry. You weren’t always sure you pulled it off, but your sales were steady so you’d take it.

Terry listened the entire time, asking more and more questions to feed his curiosity. He still threw in teases about your voice, the subject matter, and your little smut buddies, your writing group that talked about sex all day long.

He pulled the truck into a plaza with a few different stores spread out. “You’re gonna tell me guys don’t talk about sex all day? Why’s it a problem when women do it?”

Terry pulled into an available parking spot and turned the car off. The chill from outside immediately crept in, forcing the warm air to evaporate. “Sure, but we don’t write it down or send porn to each other,” he said.

“We do not send porn!” You said. Liar, liar. You had sent a porn link to your group chat earlier to discuss the inspo for Wesley.

Terry gave you an incredulous look before getting out of the truck. Your heartbeat sped up as he walked around to your side. His hands would be on you again. You liked it. Perhaps too much, because when he opened the door, you jumped.

“You good?” He asked.

You nodded, not trusting your voice. Terry steadied you by the waist as you climbed out of his massive truck. When he set you on the ground, your hands lingered on his forearms. Realizing you were holding on, you hummed and stepped away with a smile.

You went shopping, picking up essentials for a quick emergency kit. Flashlight with extra batteries, bottled water, granola bars with a long shelf life, back up portable chargers for your phone, extra over the counter meds, first aid kit, whistle, Lysol wipes, hand sanitizer, paper soap, and matches.

Terry’s eyebrows rose with each new item you picked up, working off your memory of your home and work kits. So you liked to be prepared, so what. You were only mildly embarrassed as he walked with you down each aisle, adding in things you hadn’t thought of for snow weather. Extra thick socks, thermals, extra scarf and beanie. Just in case.

“Thank you, Terry, really,” you said as Terry helped put the items in the bed of his truck.

“You can thank me by swinging by the bar with me. I’m pretty hungry. You?” He asked.

You grinned. “Was this your plan all along?” You asked.

“Maybe,” he said and smirked. Ugh. He was too fucking pretty. It made you sick really. Sick with fucking lust. Maybe a drink was just what the doctor ordered.

“Fine. But you could have just asked, you know,” you said.

“I know.” After he helped you in the car, he made the short trip to the bar he told you about.

The parking lot was large but mostly empty. It was nearing the evening and the temperature dropped bit by bit, your breath escaping in clouds. Terry escorted you up the long wooden stairs towards the earthy bar.

Inside, the place was bigger than you expected with two distinct sections. On the right, there were dining tables set up for bigger groups. Some of those tables were filled up and there were TVs stationed around turned to various games.

Terry said hello to the staff as he escorted you to the left, where the main bar was set up. The tables on this side sat higher off the ground and it had bar stools pushed close to the table. There was a door that led out onto a patio for outside dining but no one sat outside at the moment.

Terry pulled out a bar stool for you and helped you climb on. He effortlessly sat, his long legs having no trouble touching the ground. Bastard.

The bartender, introduced as Adam, came around to take your drink orders. “I am a cider girlie. What’s good?” You asked Adam.

Adam stroked his silky salt and pepper beard and looked behind him. “We got a few things. How you feel about blueberry?”

“Blueberry cider?” You asked.

Adam grinned. “If you don’t like it, it’s on the house,” he said. Adam leaned forward on the bar top and you smiled back. Oh, he was adorable.

Terry cleared his throat. “How’s Melissa?” Terry asked, bringing a beer to his lips and sipping.

Adam’s smile didn’t waver. “She left me. I’m all alone in my modest, but spacious house,” Adam said, never taking his eyes from you.

You giggled and waved him off. “Oh stop!” You said.

“With a beautiful woman like you, how can I?” Adam asked.

Terry made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a growl. You side eyed him as he shared a glance with Adam. Adam knocked on the bar top with a grin and then moved away to grab you a blueberry cider. He popped the top for you and waited for you to take a sip.

It was…actually delicious. You nodded. “Okay, not bad, Adam,” you said.

Adam’s permanent grin spread wider. “I aim to please,” he said.

You hid your giggle behind your hand and shook your head. “Did Melissa really leave you?” You asked.

Adam groaned and looked at Terry. “Thanks, T. Yes, she really did. But only to visit her parents. I still needed to work,” Adam said.

“Aw, why’d you get stuck with holiday duty? You piss off the boss?”

“He is the boss,” Terry grumbled.

You smiled at him. These two. “I bet ya’ll get into so much trouble together,” you said.

“Too much. And it was always Terry’s idea,” Adam said.

“Fuck outta here,” Terry said and chuckled. Adam launched into a story about growing up with Terry, running around like the latch key kids they were. Adam had dared Terry to jump off a rock formation near a creek which got both their asses handed to them by Terry’s mama.

You laughed through the story, Adam an amazing storyteller. Terry filled in details grudgingly, pulled from him the more Adam kept going.

Your food arrived in the middle of Adam speaking. You ordered tiger sauce wings and the chicken was huge. It came with fries and you immediately dug in, your hunger taking over something vicious.

Adam finally left you two alone as Adam had to tend to more and more people as the night dragged on.

“Your friend is funny,” you said.

Terry grunted. “But he doesn’t get on your nerves?” He asked.

“Nope. Guess you bring it out of me,” you said.

Terry rolled his eyes but dug into his own steak and potatoes. You both lobbed questions back and forth, learning more about each other now than over the two weeks he fixed minor things around the rental.

You downed cider after cider, getting lost in the way Terry told stories. He had a slower approach than Adam, but he was no less engaging. With that voice of his, he set the scene perfectly as a narrator.

The cider warmed you from the inside out, making your face flush with heat. But it was Terry’s voice that had something else flushing as well. Your pussy fluttered every time he licked the corner of his mouth while he spoke.

It ached every time you spoke and his focus was completely on you. He didn’t blink away, he didn’t look down, he didn’t interrupt. It only highlighted how much you craved that. Your family and friends only had so much patience for you before they were off, dominating the conversation in ways you couldn’t actively participate in. It felt more like they just wanted someone to talk at, not with.

Not the case with Terry. He included you in the conversation, stretching it, and flowed effortlessly from one topic to the next. There was rarely a lull in your conversation and your heads dipped closer and closer together the more you spoke.

The crisp apple and blueberry taste coated your tongue but also loosened your lips. “I see it all so clearly in my head, but then I get too much in my head, and it all comes crashing down. I can’t connect with this one for some reason,” you said.

Terry had asked you more about novel writing, the concept completely foreign to him. He confessed that he didn’t think that much effort went into it. Maybe not for others. But for you, it felt like you agonized over every single word. Were you true to the characters? Did anything make sense? Would it hit for others like it hit for you?

“Why’s it not connecting for you?” Terry sipped his second beer, as sober as a judge. While you felt too relaxed.

You sighed and looked away from him, peeling the label off of the bottle with your nail. “No offense, but men. I usually have a man to play with while writing to keep the inspiration going but sex-only arrangements only work if the guy initiates it. If I tell them I don’t want anything more, that’s when they get in their feelings,” you said with a shiver.

Terry’s grin spread slowly across his lips, revealing a neat row of teeth. Oh, my. He was damn delicious. “So you treat them like a ho and they get mad?”

“Yes!” You tapped his shoulder. Finally, a man who got you. “Like ugh, I know what I want and it’s not these dudes I find. I won’t settle for anything less than what I write about on the daily. So no, I don’t want to date, a girl just wants to get fucked, you know? No talking, no giggling, just work me over like a screen door in a hurricane and then get the fuck out,” you said. You nodded your head to emphasize your point.

You sighed deeply and smiled at Terry, your eyes drooping. You were a little tipsy. Terry lifted an eyebrow and then your words echoed in your mind. Your jaw dropped. Oh god. You were mortified.

“I-I am so sorry. That was so rude,” you said.

Terry lifted his fingers in a small wave. “Naw, you’re good,” he said.

“No, wow. That was inappropriate. I’m sorry. I-I’m sorry. We should go, please,” you said.

Terry turned towards you on the bar stool. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one that asked, chipmunk,” he said.

Your cheeks were still on fire. It was one thing to talk like this with your girlfriends or your sister, or even your writing group. That was normal. But you talked with Terry as if you’d known him forever. It took you one business year to make friends, putting them through the gauntlet to see if they’d actually stick around. More than that to let your freak flag fly.

“If you truly want to go, we will. But I promise, we’re cool. You don’t have to censor yourself around me,” he said.

And somehow, that permission made your shoulders droop from around your ears. You nodded, taking a sip of water. You didn’t have to apologize for being true to yourself. And it was like you crossed some invisible social boundary with Terry. Conversation flowed more smoothly, your heads dipped closer together, and your shoulders brushed against each other.

“So what are you looking for then? If not these dudes you meet,” he said.

You spent the rest of the night diving into past dating history and what you looked for in a partner. Terry shared what he liked as well. Someone that laughed at his world-stopping jokes, someone kind, and someone goofy.

Instantly, you compared yourself to the small list of women he’d been with. The traits he looked for. Did you fit the bill? Were you someone he could shove through the mattress?

It seemed wild to think about that even though you already swore him off. It wasn’t that you weren’t interested. You were too interested. Too aware. Too conscious of him. Of the way he moved, talked, or laughed. You anticipated what would make him smile, what would make him groan, or what would make him roll his eyes.

He was hands down the only man that could make you lose your marbles and you hadn’t even taken him to bed. The thought filled you with so much dread and fear, that you had to push him away to stay sane. You had to keep him firmly on the other side of the brain before your inner romantic started planning your wedding in your mind.

You could easily fall for Terry Richmond. And you weren’t sure if you were strong enough to survive if he couldn’t. Not in the way you wanted. Not in the way you craved. Not in the way you wrote about, book after book, story after story, chasing a phantom man in your mind that loved you in the way you hungered for.

Adam called last call and gave Terry the sober vibe check. Which consisted of Terry holding his middle finger to nose while standing on one leg for a minute. You laughed at the sight, instantly taking a picture because there was no chance in hell you wanted to forget the look on his face.

He flipped you the bird while he settled with Adam and then escorted you outside. The wind was bitter, biting through your jacket and hoodie. Terry stepped closer to you, taking the brunt of it as the wind came from his direction.

You joked on the way to his truck, nudging him every so often as you walked. The liquor loosened you both up, navigating the newfound familiarity together. Whether it was by intention or by accident, the touches were not unwelcome.

At his car, you leaned against the truck. You nudged your chin towards the bar. “It’s a great place. I see why you wanted to show it to me,” you said.

He leaned a hand against the car, blocking most of the wind. But it had the added benefit of bringing him warmth closer. He smelled delicious like the outside air he belonged to. Like pine needles and cinnamon.

“Figured you might. Did it help with your book?” He asked.

You gasped. “Was that the goal?” You asked.

He shrugged. “A little. I figured you were too in your head,” he said.

“You think you know me, Terry Richmond,” you said and tapped his chest. He rocked back on his heels as if it actually hurt him and you rolled your eyes.

“No. But I’m learning to,” he said.

You giggled nervously as you blinked up at him. Light from the signs on the bar barely reached, but it highlighted him from behind. Light cut across his jaw and cheek and made his lashes glow at the tip.

Terry stepped closer, giving you all the room to step away or block him. But that was the last thing your body wanted. You stayed put, sliding your hands against his broad chest. Your fingers curled around the fabric and he sighed.

He brought his face closer to yours and inhaled. You hummed just as his lips pressed against yours. There was nothing hurried about it. Nothing filthy or salacious. But it warmed you from the tip of your toes to the top of your head.

Terry drew back and looked you in the eyes. You didn’t need to say anything. Didn’t need to share anything. You supposed kissing him was inevitable. Fated.

Terry tucked you into his truck and his hands lingered, reluctantly letting you go only because you were seated and there was nothing to help with anymore. You smiled at him and he finally closed the door. It gave you enough time to let loose the breath you held as he walked around.

He drove carefully back up the mountain. Snow had stuck to the road in some areas, so Terry went extra slow to be careful. If it weren’t for his huge lights, you wouldn’t be able to see a got damn thing.

It was pitch black outside, as if the world had disappeared during your ascent. As soon as the headlights passed on to something else, the darkness encroached and gobbled it back up. It was trippy. Yet strangely called to your inner emo.

The ride was mostly silent, soft music playing on the radio too low for you to pick up words. Terry found your rental without a hitch and came around to let you out of his truck. He walked with you to the front door and hovered outside of it while you stepped in.

You put your head on the door, swinging back and forth. In a minute, Terry would have to fix that one too. You giggled at your joke and Terry smirked.

“What’s so funny, chipmunk?” He asked.

You told him and Terry groaned and shook his head. “That was a terrible joke,” he said.

“What! No it wasn’t!” You squeaked with your outrage, sputtering for the right words to defend yourself. You could call your jokes bad, he couldn’t. You didn’t know why just yet, but he couldn’t.

“Was to,” he said and stepped closer. Terry’s eyes drooped as he leaned his shoulder against the door frame. He took up the majority of it, so large and imposing. Yet his energy was nothing but peaceful and quiet, setting you at ease in a way only a thorough cleaning could achieve.

“Was not,” you said, holding your ground. You wanted to invite him in. Wanted to go ahead and explore what he started.

Terry sighed and dug his hands in his hoodie pocket. “Goodnight, chipmunk,” he said.

Oh. You matched his sigh and rolled your eyes. “Good night, Terry,” you said. You’d have to think of a good nickname for him. Like Big Bird…Clifford…whenever it came to you, you were gonna hit him with it.

Terry stepped back and waited while you closed and locked the door. You heard his boots travel down the steps and into his awaiting truck.

You leaned your back against the cold door and sighed once more. If you were a chipmunk, then the only tree you wanted to climb was him.

“Girl,” you said, drawing the word out.

“Girl, what?” Your best friend, Whitley, asked.

“This motherfucker out here chopping wood on Christmas Eve,” you said. Terry stopped by a week later, finally coming around to chop more wood for the fireplace. You had forgotten all about it, feeling better now that you had an upgraded emergency kit.

But then Terry took off his hoodie, revealing a silver blue T-shirt that really brought out the blue in his eyes. He blamed the storm, criticizing you for not paying more attention to the weather channel.

Um, and miss bingeing Alex Cross for the umpteenth time? Yeah, no thanks. You called him an old man while he grinned and went outside, round to the side. There was a tree stump there and a small pile of chopped firewood.

Terry took the larger, whole pieces and went to work. Some he cracked in one go, his powerful muscles bunching and contracting with the effort. The axe was decisive, snapping and echoing in the surrounding woods.

Terry used the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow and you got a front row seat to his abs.

You moaned into the phone and Whitley grunted. “Girl, uh uh. Put me on video or something. You can’t be moaning like that and I don’t get to see too.”

Fair, she was right. You hurried and put her on video, tilting the phone to look at him through the window. Though he faced forward, he rarely looked up while he worked on the firewood as if it stole something from him.

You bit your lip, needing that same focus while he fucked you stupid. You wanted to be fucked so hard that you forgot your ABCs.

“Oh damn,” Whitley said, moaning with you.

Lord, he was fine. This so wasn’t fair. Not even in the slightest. “And you ain’t rode that big dawg yet?” Whitley asked.

“Girl, no. Look at him. He would snap my ass in half and then eat my heart on his way out,” you said.

Terry took a break, lodging the axe in the tree stump. He wiped his forehead with his shirt once more and you and Whitley sighed in appreciation. Wisps of his breath clouded in the air, sunlight shining brightly on Terry.

“I say this with all the love in my heart. You stupid ho, go ride that man!” Whitley yelled into the phone. Since she was on speaker, you ducked in case Terry looked towards you. He didn’t need to see you being a creeper.

When you deemed it safe, you slowly stood back up. Terry stretched his thick biceps, causing his shirt to ride up. His belly peeked from underneath, giving you a glimpse of his belly button. You felt no better than an 18th century man but your core was in full agreement. Your clit throbbed, painfully. His tattoos poked out from beneath his short sleeves and you wondered what the story was behind each one.

“Now what if he looked over here? Now we both looking stupid ‘cause you don’t know how to shut up,” you said.

Whitley giggled and sighed. Terry picked up the axe and continued chopping. He leaned forward, grabbing a whole piece, and then placed it on the stump. He hefted the axe above his head and let it fall with force behind it, splitting it in two.

“Got damn. Maybe I need to visit you up there, friend,” Whitley teased.

“Um, no,” you said.

Whitley giggled. “Then if that’s your man, go get him!”

You grumbled to her, listing off reasons why you absolutely shouldn’t. But night after night, little Laz Alonso wasn’t cutting it. Ever since the bar, ever since the kiss, you hadn’t been able to keep him from your mind.

It was his face that you stroked yourself too. His voice that you moaned to. His eyes that set you off but it was empty. Sure it felt good, but you needed more. You needed the heft of a man on top of you, splitting you open, talking nasty in ya ear.

Spicy audios and a vibrator just didn’t have the same effect. Not when you wanted some body heat. When you wanted the rough scratch of a beard on your skin. Fingers buried to the knuckle.

“What am I gonna do when he get me addicted to that monster in his pants and I can’t have no more? You really want me out here like a crackhead, begging for dick? You wanna come bail me out of jail because I was banging on his door at 3am?” You asked.

Whitley howled with laughter as you kept going, describing all the ways Terry would have you acting out of character. And you wouldn’t feel a lick of shame about it. You’d stand outside buck ass nekkid in the cold, brutal winter if it meant you’d get to hop on it again.

“Stop, my stomach hurt! Stop it!” Whitley yelled in between pulls of air.

You finally giggled with her, eyes still on Terry. The pile of wood next to him grew more and more and you wondered how long he expected this storm to last? Or if he had that little faith in the central heating.

Terry glanced towards the house and you ducked, heart in your throat. “I think he saw me,” you whispered.

Whitley giggled and shook her head. “How you gonna explain that one?” She asked.

“I’ll tell if you if works,” you said. You hung up with her and then grabbed two bottles of water from the pantry.

You threw on your hoodie and jacket, leaving the house. You slid-walked towards the side of the house, the snow giving way and making you earn it. You huffed as you made it around the side.

Terry stopped chopping and watched you struggle. He lodged the axe into the stump and then placed his hands on his narrow hips. The silver blue T-shirt clung to his body with sweat. If he were to wring it out, you’d bet it’d fill a bucket.

When you got closer, Terry lifted an eyebrow. “You know chipmunks s’posed to hibernate in the winter,” he said.

“Oh shut up,” you said, shaking your head. “I saw you struggling so I decided to come give you the break you needed.”

You handed him the bottle of water and then unscrewed your own. “Saw me struggling, huh,” he said, his voice deeper than normal. Or were you imagining it? Fuck. You were losing touch with reality now.

His eyes slanted towards you as he tilted his head back and gulped down the bottle of water. He didn’t stop for a breath. He kept going, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the action. His bicep could probably crush steel. Veins ran down the length of his arm and saliva pooled in your mouth.

“That’s a lot of firewood,” you said, your voice unnaturally rough. You cleared your throat and drank your own water.

You finally figured out how Wesley and Gabrielle meet so the rest of Act 1 flew from your fingers. You made it to the part where they have sex for the first time and Gabrielle would discover that Wesley was an investigator.

You’d had sex on the brain all day. A little obsessively so considering it was Christmas Eve. So Terry being out here, looking like that and chopping wood like that... It was like a cosmic nudge in the pants to ride him ‘till the cows came home. Your resolve weakened the more you spent in his presence. This was why you needed to stop listening to Whitley’s ass.

“Want to make sure you’re prepared,” he said, his accent seeping through his words.

You drank more of your water, shivering as a brutal wind kicked up. “Oh, that’s cold,” you said. Was that the universe telling you to take your ass in the house? Surely, it would be on your side, telling you to keep your eye on the prize and not fuck the incredibly hot handyman.

The wind blew again, the cold light of the sun disappearing all together. You looked upwards. Clouds rolled across the sky as the temperature dropped ten degrees. “Fuck,” you shivered, rubbing your arms.

Terry scowled. “The storm’s early. Go get inside,” he said.

Overhead, trees swayed violently with the gathering wind. “What about the firewood?” You asked.

“I got it,” he said. He waved for you to go ahead of him but you didn’t want to just leave him to do all the work. He moved carefully, heading to the side of the house and grabbed a blue tarp. He jogged to the stump and loaded the tarp with firewood. “Go get inside!”

“It’ll be faster if I help,” you called back over the wind.

You ran towards the stack, helping him load it with the firewood he chopped. He scowled but he couldn’t argue with you once you started. In no time, you had it loaded with as much firewood as he could move.

He pushed you towards the house, pulling on the tarp and dragged it across the snow. Snow flurries kicked up and swirled around you as you ran-slid towards the front door. Terry was hot on your heels, huffing, clouds of breath in front of him.

You held onto the railing as you jogged up the steps, already knowing Terry wouldn’t want you to help with the wood. He gathered up all four corners and lifted with his knees, carrying the tarp up the stairs like it was nothing.

You opened the door, the wind doing most of the work. The door banged against the wall and Terry stomped in after and dropped the firewood. “Close the door,” he said and went back outside.

“Wait!” You called after him. He kept walking so you did as he said, closing the door behind him. You had to push against the wind but you finally managed to close it. You looked outside of the window beside the door.

The snow blew around hard and fast, obscuring visibility minute by minute. You could barely make out Terry’s outline as he ran to his truck and opened the bed. He pulled out a bag and then closed the bed of the truck, locking it behind him. He jogged towards the front door, holding his bare arm up as he did so.

A second later, he opened the door, entered, and then closed it behind him. He shook himself out, flinging snow across the entrance. “I’ll clean that up,” he said. Water clung to his scruffy beard and plastered his shirt to his body. His nipples poked out and you dragged your eyes away.

“You need to get in the shower, now,” you said.

“What?” Terry asked and his eyes went wide.

“The last thing you want to do is get sick. Go warm your body up in the shower. I’ll throw your clothes in the dryer,” you said. Your words sunk in a second later and then you giggled. “I mean, leave your clothes outside the door, obviously.”

Terry smirked, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you,” he said. He nodded towards the fireplace. “You know how to start that? We should conserve power tonight, just in case.”

“I agree. But no, still haven’t learned how to start it. You go get in the shower, the heater will be fine for now,” you said.

Terry looked like he wanted to argue, pinching his lips together. But then he shook his head and took off towards the bathroom. He peeled off his shirt as he went and you bit your lip.

Sweet fuck, that was not what you meant! Got damn. Your eyes widened as you looked at the dip in his back. The expanse of shoulders. The tattoo on the back of his right arm. Sweet fuck, almighty.

Terry looked back at you as he went into the bathroom. He ducked to enter and then shut the door behind him. He caught you staring. He so, so caught you staring. A beat later, he opened the door and tossed out his shirt, jeans, and socks. Not his underwear though. Bastard.

You put the items in the dryer and let it run for a cycle. You closed the closet doors on the other side of the kitchen and then started up a kettle. Your fingers tapped on the countertop waiting for the water to finish.

All the while, the shower was loud through the walls. On the other side of it, Terry was showering. He was naked. He was running soap all over that massive, long body. Your panties grew so damp, you wondered if you had enough time to dry them before he got out of the shower.

You needed all the strength you could muster. Because right now, you couldn’t remember a single fucking reason why you couldn’t hop on Terry’s dick. Really, what was the price of heartbreak? A wild ride in the sack? It just may be worth it for Terry Richmond.

The shower turned off just as the kettle clicked off beside you. You jumped and then closed your eyes. You were an adult. You could keep yourself in check.

You poured some tea for yourself but you weren’t sure what he drank. You didn’t like beer so you didn’t have any in the house. You weren’t expecting any visitors.

Wind blew against the window making you jump once more. You were too hyperaware. Too attune with every little noise or screech.

You retrieved his clothes from the dryer and then knocked on the door. Terry opened it a crack and you made sure to keep your eyes on his face. Nowhere south. “Clothes,” you said.

“Thanks,” he said. He opened the door wider and grabbed his clothes from you. His fingers grazed yours and you gasped. He was so soft and warm. Steam poured out the room, fanning across your face. He smelled like your soap and you bit back a moan.

“Yup,” you squeaked and then left him to it. Tea, tea, all you needed was some tea. Some sleepytime tea to do the trick. But you weren’t sure how you were going to sleep with a storm raging outside.

You hated to admit it but your winter getaway turned out to be anything but idyllic. And you had a teensy, smallish, not even worth mentioning fear of storms. It was the bigness of it. The fact that it made you feel so tiny, so insignificant, so aware of your mortality. That nature was the foremost authority and you lived and breathed by its good graces.

It was an annoying feeling to you as a writer. You created entire worlds at whim. Played with characters like dolls. But you held no such power in real life.

Terry left the bathroom, his footfalls softer now that he wasn’t wearing boots. Freshly dressed in his warm clothes, he looked younger without his beanie. He sported a mini, curled afro atop his head. It gave him a mountain man sort of look, like he would be at home out there in the woods.

“Thanks,” he said.

You nodded. “I wasn’t sure if you were into tea,” you said.

Terry waved you off. “Water is fine,” he said. He moved over towards the living room and opened the tarp on the floor. He knelt on one leg as he worked on stoking a fire to life. The flames gathered traction, flicking orange and yellow light across his features.

You rolled the bag of tea around a spoon to squeeze excess water out. Then you doctored it how you liked, adding in cold water. You grabbed a bottle of water and headed to the living room as Terry finished with the fireplace.

Terry accepted the bottle, drinking down half of it while he turned off the main heater and sat on the other side of the couch.

“Looks like we’re having a sleepover. Did you plan this too?” You asked.

“If I were powerful enough to control the weather, I’d use it for more nefarious purposes,” Terry said.

“Like what?” You asked, your curiosity piqued.

Terry chuckled. “And give up my evil plan? Naw. I ain’t grow up on a chicken farm,” he said.

You laughed and shook your head. “What?” You asked, chuckling more.

Terry laughed with you. “Chicken Run?” He asked.

“Shut up, you ain’t seen that movie,” you said.

Terry scoffed. “Bet,” he said.

“What’s the young rooster’s name?” You asked.

“Rocky, try again,” he said.

You squinted at him as you thought of your next question. Something only a true fan would know. “Who was the first chicken to go through Mrs. Tweedy’s chicken pie machine?” You asked.

Terry sucked in a breath and widened his eyes. “Okay, tough. But it was Ginger,” he said.

You looked at him and raised your eyebrows, trying to cast doubt on his answer. He matched your stare, smirk on his lips, and didn’t fold.

“Okay, fine, you’re right,” you huffed.

Terry laughed and drank the rest of his bottled water. You fell into a comfortable silence, both lost in your thoughts. “I haven’t seen Chicken Run in a while,” Terry said.

“Me neither. We should see if it’s streaming,” you said. You turned on the TV and snuggled under your inside throw blanket. With the heat blowing across your legs, you felt warmer than the heater could ever achieve.

Before long, you were both laughing at the shenanigans of the claymation movie. You both tossed out quotes, going back and forth about things you noticed in the movie.

One movie turned to two, throwing on How the Grinch Stole Christmas. It was among your favorite Christmas movies and a perfect distraction against the raging storm outside. The wind knocked harshly against the window every so often, causing your eyes to dart to it and your heart rate to speed up. You hated being such a baby sometimes.

But, giving yourself grace, storms really could be scary. If it knocked the power out, it could also knock over trees into the house or onto someone’s car. Storms were devastating and of course you’d find them a bit scary.

Terry scooted closer. “You afraid of storms?” He asked. His voice was like butter melting over a freshly baked biscuit. You hummed and decided to be honest.

“There’s so many things that could happen in a storm,” you told him.

He nodded. “I got something to help with that,” he said.

You turned to him and hummed for him to respond. He scooted closer on the couch, close enough for your shoulder to lean on his. You giggled at his solution. “Stop hugging the throw too,” he murmured and you giggled.

“This helps storms, huh?”

Terry nodded. “Hell yeah. Feel better?”

You pinched your lips together but went on and nodded. “It has its merits.”

As you worked on Wesley and Gabrielle’s relationship, you couldn’t help picturing how Terry would be in a relationship. Would he be the perfect boyfriend? Would he be as annoying as he usually was, always poking at you?

“Before we get comfortable, we should grab some drinks. I only have tequila or wine,” you said.

“I’ll take the tequila,” he said, making a face. You laughed and rolled your eyes at him. You got up and went to the kitchen, grabbing your favorite tequila and two shot glasses. You turned off the kitchen light on your way back, bathing the living room in darkness. The flames in the fireplace flickered across the wall, still pumping out delicious heat.

You poured a shot for each of you, clinked the glasses, and then drank. During the movie, you talked and joked, also quoting this movie back and forth. Terry’s laugh was so adorable and infectious. Was there anything on this man that didn’t scramble your brain?

He breathed and you were ready to drop your panties and beg for his dick. You were not above begging. But your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth. You wanted it too badly but you wrestled with your brain. You shouldn’t but you oh so wanted to.

“Can I confess something?” Terry asked.

You turned your head to him. You had managed to curl into his side, soaking in the heat of his body. You felt every rise and fall of his chest. You licked your lips and Terry’s eyes drooped down.

“What is it, Terry?” You asked.

Terry licked his own lips and you couldn’t resist following the movement with your eyes. His lips were so big, so juicy.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about our kiss,” he said. His voice was so soft, so velvety, that your shoulders dropped and you leaned in.

“Me neither,” you said. You shook your head. The kiss invaded all of your senses, leading to distraction even when Terry wasn’t there. All week, you caught yourself veering off to replay the kiss over and over again.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the moment you threatened me with a poker,” he said and smiled.

Your chest rose and fell in waves, processing what he was saying. “Don’t play with me, Terry Richmond,” you said. You just couldn’t stand it if he were.

“When you said what you said at the bar, I wondered what kind of man you’d take to bed. And then I started thinking that I wanted to be the only one in your bed,” he said.

Your mouth dropped open. It’s not that you didn’t know you were gorgeous. It’s not that you didn’t think you could pull someone like Terry. It was the fact that he said it so plainly. So openly. So clearly for your brain to not misinterpret his words. You didn’t have to guess with him. And that was one of the sexiest things ever.

You blinked a few times. “I–”

“And then I started hoping that you’d let me audition,” he said.

“Audition?” You asked. What the hell was he on about?

Terry grinned and then leaned closer, bringing his large hand to cup your face. His thumb stroked across your cheek. Your eyes slowly blinked closed, your skin tingling where he stroked. His warm breath fanned across your face, smelling faintly like tequila.

He rubbed his lips against yours but it wasn’t a full kiss. And that made you want it more. You wanted his lips on yours. You would simply die without it.

“Let me show off my skills. If I do well, you can use me as inspiration for your latest book,” he said.

You giggled, biting the inside of your cheek. “And what do you get out of the arrangement?” You asked.

“You,” he said.

You gasped, staring into his eyes. The low light made his features stand out more. It made his expressions more severe, more striking. You were at a loss for words. This man handed over everything you wanted on a silver platter.

You were so nervous to accept. You had been let down in so many ways by so many men. You had reached a point where you weren’t actively looking for a relationship. You didn’t need some raggedy boy in your phone.

But Terry was a man. A huge, perfect, wonderful man who got on your last fucking nerve. He always had something smart to say or some new quip to lob at you. But he was also thoughtful. Kind. Funny. Sexy as fucking sin.

“Are you sure? What if you don’t pass?” You asked.

“Then I’d like to keep trying until you tell me to leave,” he said. He licked your lips and you sighed, ending on a moan.

“Okay, what will you do for your audition?” You asked. The tequila traveled straight south, making your pussy throb. Your inner thighs tingled even as your breathing increased.

Terry smirked. He finally crashed his lips to yours, kissing you harshly, brutally. Like he had merely been caged before and you finally set him free. You brought your hands up to his neck, pulling him closer.

Your moans combined and danced as you leaned closer, pushed harder, kissed back just as fiercely as he did.

His hands moved underneath your shirt, hands wrapped around your sides, gripping onto your meaty flesh. You moaned, arching your back into him. Terry pulled you closer, made you straddle him.

An impressive bulge rubbed against your core and you moaned, closing your eyes. Fuck, you were overstimulated already and nothing even happened yet. You knew he had a monster in his pants. You just knew it.

You made out with Terry like a horny teenager, clashing teeth and biting at each other’s lips. You grinded in his lap, rubbing yourself against him. He groaned, hands lowering to cup your ass. He took two big scoops and squeezed hard, causing you to squeak.

“O-Oh fuck,” you moaned. The pain hurt so good. He kneaded your ass and you dropped your forehead to his shoulder. You moaned low, breathing harshly through your nose.

“You are so fucking beatiful,” he murmured against your temple.

“Terry, fuck, I’ve wanted you so bad,” you moaned.

“Why didn’t you say?” He asked.

You shook your head. You couldn’t speak. Didn’t want to speak. Your body moved on its own accord, rubbing against his hot erection.

Terry moved one of his hands to grip your chin and force you to look at him. “Why?” He demanded.

“You could break me. And that scares me,” you whispered.

“How do you think I feel?” He asked. “You could rip me apart.”

You crashed your lips to his, scratched at the nape of his neck. He returned his hand to your ass to squeeze, knead, and mold with his large hands. You moaned into his mouth, needing more friction.

Terry grabbed you by the waist and pulled you off of him. He made quick work of your jeans, pulled them down your legs, and off in one quick snap. You squealed with laughter, at the physicality of him, yet he still remained sweet and gentle.

Terry peeled your panties from your body and he groaned. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispered, his voice one of awe. He slipped your panties off as well, biting your thighs as he pulled, and tossed it over his shoulder.

Your pussy throbbed looking at the way he stared at the heart of you. The smell of your arousal permeated the air and you moaned, smelling how turned on you were. He pushed at your thighs until they rested against your stomach.

He blew his breath across your pussy gently. “Oh, shit,” you twitched, hand reaching down to cling to his afro.

Terry groaned and blew once more, lowering his face until he was close enough to lick you from entrance to clit and back again. Your back bucked off of the couch, grinding into his face.

Terry moaned and wrapped his thick lips around your clit. He suckled sloppily, licking you like a dog with its favorite toy. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” you moaned, your stomach caving in and your eyes rolling back.

His tongue was the sweetest torture of pleasure against your pussy. His drool mixed with your essence, causing his sloppy eating to echo in the living room. “Fuck, that pussy good,” he sputtered against your sopping wet pussy.

“Oh fuck!” You screamed, your orgasm tearing through you too fast for you to comprehend. You flopped on the couch as your body shook and twisted with pleasure. Terry kept eating, slurping up the latest wave of essence on his tongue.

His beard grew more wet, sliding against your skin. It tickled and you wiggled, trying to move. Terry locked his arms around your thighs, shoving his face further into your pussy. His nose tickled the top of your mound and you groaned and moaned, loving the attention but unable to stand the tickling.

“Hmmmm,” he moaned, shaking his head. His tongue flicked across your clit without mercy, suckling on the swollen nub.

“Shit! Shit! Wait! Fuck!” You panted. You were out of breath, hardly able to make any sounds as Terry continued to eat you like a starving man to bread. Your stomach caved in once more, your lungs refusing to work any longer.

You pushed at his forehead but he kept going. Your eyes rolled backwards, your thighs clenched around his head as another orgasm tore through you, yanking your soul around like a ping pong ball.

Your pussy clenched and unclenched, wanting attention too. “Fuck me, fuck me,” you begged. You loved that he was a munch, Loved, loved it. But fuck you needed to be filled up. You needed to feel him deep in it.

“Not done yet,” Terry said. He came up for air, his face shiny with your juices. He licked his lips and closed his eyes, savoring it. When he opened it again, he narrowed his eyes. “Show me those pretty chocolate nipples.”

Your belly flipped painfully. Pussy throbbed. You lifted your shirt slowly, giving him a slight tease. Your overheated skin tingled with awareness as the cotton shifted across your body.

You revealed your titties and Terry groaned and rolled his hips into the bed. He winked at you. “Play with them while I eat,” he said. He returned to lapping at your pussy and your thighs squeezed around his face.

You were too sensitive. You jerked with every flick, every suck, and every glide of his lips. Your thighs shook with passion, tingled, and tensed. But you managed to pinch and roll your nipples, squeezing in time with his licks. “Please, please, Terry, fuck! I can’t!”

He pushed two fingers inside to pump in and out of your entrance. He wrapped his lips around your clit and used some kind of devil, voodoo magic to create a sucking vortex that had you seeing an entire galaxy behind your eyelids. Your mind flashed with dense clouds of pinks, violets, fiery oranges, and the softest greens.

You lost all ability to speak as another orgasm was wrung from you. You bowed forward, pushing his head into your clit as you came and came with howls and screams loud enough to wake the dead.

White and black spots danced in your vision as you suffered through aftershocks, ribbons of pleasure causing your nerves to go haywire. “Fuck, fuck,” you twitched.

You didn’t have the words nor the presence of mind to process what the hell just happened. You were spent. Put out. Dangle you on the clothesline to air out because you were out of it.

Terry came up for air with a growl, kissing your inner thighs, then your stomach, then climbed up your body to capture your lips with his own. He smeared your essence all over your face and you locked tongues with him eagerly.

You tasted too good on his tongue. Smelled too good on his lips. “Did I pass? I get the job?” Terry asked in between kissing you stupid.

You nodded and licked your lips, tasting more of yourself. “You got it, you got it,” you panted.

“I don’t have a condom, but–”

“I’m clean and on the pill,” you said. You kept up with that shit religiously, setting an alarm and everything. You were too chicken to try any other methods.

“I swear I’m clean,” he said, going back to kissing your lips. You moaned, and rubbed against his body.

“Fuck me,” you whined.

Terry chuckled. “Keep begging, chipmunk,” he groaned. He managed to continue kissing you while he ditched his jeans and underwear. His jeans dropped to the floor with a loud flop. His shirt went next, his muscles bunching as he lifted it off of him.

He removed your shirt as well, hands coming around to grab your titties. He pushed them together, lowering his mouth to suck on both nipples at the same time. You jerked and whined, grinding on the couch.

“Please, Terry, fuck me. Fuck me, I need it. I need your big dick to split me open,” you begged.

Terry groaned and moved his right hand between you. He rubbed his dick up and down your folds, gathering up all the slick he could to coat his dick. He pushed into your entrance and your pussy started talking.

“Mmm, growl at me,” he moaned. “Fuck.”

He dipped the head of his dick in and out of you, slowly, your pussy doing more than growling as he toyed with your aching hole. You cried every time his tip stretched you. He was easily the biggest you’d ever taken.

Terry put his left hand on your chest and moved his right hand up to your clit. This thumb pressed on your clit and a strangled noise burst from your throat. “I need you inside me,” you whined. “Please, please.” Your eyes watered.

You were going to lose your mind in a minute. You would dissolve into a puddle of goo or start barking like a dog if he teased you any more.

Terry moved his thumb in circles around your clit, causing you to sputter and moan, completely lost to the sensation. “Eyes on me,” he commanded.

Your eyes snapped open to him. To the softest gray and darkest blue of his eyes. His eyebrows curved in a severe arch. The same focus he had while chopping wood, he brought to killing you slowly from the inside out.

His thumb made your pussy relax enough for him to sink in deeper, further, aided by the fresh slick leaking out of you. If it weren’t for the throw blanket, you were sure you’d have to buy Mr. Omar a brand new couch.

“So wet. Fuck, you’re gripping my shit tough,” he moaned. He flicked his thumb harder.

You sniffled, tears running down your cheeks. “Please, I can’t. I can’t no more!” You yelled.

Terry leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. You moaned and played with his thick tongue, licked his juicy lips, and gently bit his bottom lip. He moaned. “I say when you’re done,” he said.

“Oh fuck,” you said as you lost all control over your body. Terry pushed all the way down to the hilt with a guttural groan. Veins popped out of his neck as he used you to hold some of his weight.

His dick throbbed, pulsed in time with his own heartbeat inside you. His dick pushed up against your sweet spot and before long, you were cumming on his dick.

“Yes, yes, cream this dick. Show me you need that shit,” he moaned. He pulled back until he was almost out and then he shoved back in. He increased his strokes the more he did it, your pussy growling on his dick, while he rolled his hips.

Your nails scratched at his chest as he moved his hands to either side of your stomach. The couch dipped with his weight as he pounded your pussy, punished her for whatever perceived slight against him.

“Terry!” You screamed.

“Scream it, baby,” he moaned. He pounded faster, nothing but wet, nasty smacks echoing in the room. Your pussy welcomed him in easily. He glided and fucked you to within an inch of your life.

“Why you fucking me like this?” You panted. Your thighs were weak against his hips. He pounded so fast that the hair on his thighs created a slight burn on yours. The burn only seeped into your skin, driving your pleasure through the roof. The next one was gonna kill you.

“Because you cum so pretty. Give me another,” he demanded. How many was his limit? How many would he pull from you? You were scared to find out.

Tears ran in tiny rivers down your cheeks. The pleasure was too much. Too big. Too wild. Too uncontrollable and fuck, you greedily wanted more. Your head flopped from side to side. You didn’t have another one in you. You couldn’t give him what wasn’t there.

His head dipped to nip at your chin, your neck, and your breast. He suckled your nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth. Like a wilted flower with fresh water, you came back to life.

Electricity buzzed beneath your skin. Terry slipped out and then slapped his dick against your clit. Your pussy juices squelched and droplets bounced off. “Keep taking this dick like a good girl,” Terry moaned.

“Fuck, yes, Terry. Terry, Terry,” you moaned.

“Cream that shit, fuck,” Terry moaned.

He fucked another orgasm from you. Your nails dug in hard enough to draw blood as you screamed with pleasure, your voice drowning out the roaring wind outside. Terry stroked three more times before finally releasing his nut.

He bathed your insides with hot, throbbing splashes of his cum. He jerked above you, head lolling from side to side as he rode out his climax.

You both breathed heavily, bodies slick with sweat from the sex and from the still lit fire. You kissed each other with little pecks, needing air too much to lock lips. “Let me taste,” you said.

“Fuck,” Terry groaned. He slipped out of you carefully. You hissed as his glorious pipe slid out of you completely. His cum gushed out, pushed out by your pussy. You couldn’t stop clenching as you got onto your stomach.

You opened your mouth and looked at Terry. He stood up with one foot on the ground and one knee planted on the couch cushion. You gripped onto his waist and pulled him closer. Without hands, he made his dick jerk to attention, still fully hard. You took him in your mouth and hummed at the mix of your flavors.

You relaxed your jaw and took him in as far as he wanted to go. You controlled your breathing as he gripped your head. He pushed you onto his dick, making you suckle the full length of him. Not all of it fit, so his dick started to poke against your cheek.

“Lick it all up for me,” he said. His voice. His voice. He could command you to walk through burning flames and you would if it meant that he slutted you out like this every day from now on.

You suckled him deep, your eyes never leaving his. You communicated without words that the final chink was in place. You were his. Locked in. Mind to mind. Body to body. Soul to soul. You were his to toy with, play with, his to do whatever he fucking wanted. Because you knew down to your bones that no one else would do it for you. No one else would be able to redefine the meaning of sex for you.

His stare pulled you deeper and deeper into the pool of his eyes. Your eyes drooped as you let yourself get used. He thrust into your mouth, pulling your throat down on his dick. You gagged a bit and he moaned and jerked his hips. He lessened his strokes but kept up the pace.

Saliva and his pre-cum mixed in your mouth and dribbled down your chin. Your gawking was loud and disgusting as you sucked him down.

“You’re fucking perfect. Fucking perfect. Fuck, I’m finna bust,” he groaned, his chest rumbling with a growl.

His entire shaft throbbed as he held your head in place while he spilled down your throat. You swallowed his delicious cum, moaning at his taste. His eyes rolled back and you whined at the image.

You suckled on his tip like candy and he stuttered with a chuckle. “Okay, okay, okay,” he tapped out, gently pushing at your shoulders.

You giggled and then sat back and wiped your mouth. “Fuck. What the fuck was that?” You asked.

Terry grinned. He leaned over, kissed you, and then sat next to you. He pulled you into his side, running his hand up and down your back. Your body felt more than relaxed. Floating on cloud nine in a way that you didn’t know was possible.

“Ever since we met, I’ve been imagining what I’d do to you,” he said.

“I love the way your mind works,” you huffed.

Terry chuckled and kissed your temple. “I’m just happy to be of service,” he said.

You tapped his chest. “I can’t stand you,” you said.

Terry rained kisses down the side of your face until he could nibble on your ear. “That wasn’t what you said earlier.”

“I cannot be held accountable for the shit I say while you’re balls deep,” you said, holding up your hand.

Terry gripped your hand with a chuckle and brought it to his chest. He stared into your eyes and then kissed your hand. Then he moved your hand lower and lower, a grin spreading across his face. Your hand wrapped around his thickening dick.

“Already?!” You asked.

He shrugged. “Everything about you turns me the fuck on,” he said.

Terry made quick work of putting out the fire. Then, he brought you into the shower to ‘clean off’. All he managed to do was haul you against the shower wall and dig into your guts once more, filling you to the brim with his searing hot cum.

You dried each other off on the way to the bedroom before falling asleep as soon as your face hit the pillow. You smiled as you drifted off, the later half of your book filling in from your imagination. With Terry as inspiration, you had enough material to fill three books.

The next morning, you were on fire. Well, not literally, but Terry’s body heat ensured you never needed a heater or a throw blanket again.

Feeling you move, Terry woke up and kissed your neck. He was curled behind you, his large arm dropped across your stomach. He was too cute when he first woke up. Eyes blinking open. Licking his lips. Face fussy and scrunched up.

“Hm, good morning to you too,” you said, wiggling your ass against his morning wood.

Terry chuckled and moved his hand to your waist to still your movements. “Don’t play with me,” he said.

You continued to wiggle your ass. “Well, it is Christmas morning. Don’t I get a present?” You asked.

Terry hummed in your ear. “What kind of present?” He asked.

“You,” you said.

“It’s my pleasure to serve,” he whispered in your ear before lowering himself in the bed, beneath the covers. Your legs fell open as he adjusted himself in between and went to work, licking and suckling and nibbling around your clit and entrance until you were a ball of putty in his hands.

Incoherent nonsense spilled from your lips as he made you glimpse heaven two times before coming up for air. He kissed you, face shiny once more with your essence. You licked it off of him, licked the corners of his mouth, and suckled his bottom lip.

Terry groaned, sliding into you with ease. “Nasty ass,” he moaned.

But fuck, he was still so big. So nasty. He pounded into you, giving you long deep strokes. He lowered himself closer to your body so that your nipples rubbed against his chest.

“You fucking me too good!” You screamed.

Terry moaned and closed his eyes. He placed kisses all over your chest, neck, and lips, keeping pace. He carved a Terry shaped hole in your pussy and in your heart, one that he would only be able to fill.

“Cum on this dick. Let me feel it,” he begged.

Your moans increased. Like his words were just what you needed. You clenched around his dick and he groaned, hips jerking forward, before you finally gave in and gave him what he wanted.

“Shit, fuck,” he moaned as he came with you, dick twitching and pulsing. You would never get sick of that feeling. Never, ever, ever.

“Merry Christmas, chipmunk,” he said, panting for air.

“Merry Christmas, Terry.”

Terry spent the remainder of your stay fucking you into oblivion. Every morning, you woke up with new ideas, new tweaks to make the story better and improve on it. The sex scenes, in your very humble opinion, were the spiciest things you’d ever written. Filthy.

When you shared some snippets with your writing community, they about fell out with gleeful gifs and unhinged keyboard smashing.

Every night, Terry fulfilled his promise of giving you plenty to work with for your books. He twisted you in more ways than one. Folded you like a pretzel. Moved you in positions you’d never heard of. And each session left you so spent, your brain unplugged for the night.

On your last day there, you spent it wrapped up in the bed with Terry only coming up for air long enough to snack. And then he’d call you chipmunk or give you The Look. The one where he dipped his chin and his eyes lured you in.

Then you were kissing, touching, and exploring. Then your hand was wrapped around his dick and his fingers were buried in your pussy to the knuckle. You made it a game on who would cum first. You should’ve known you’d lose that battle. Especially when he commanded that you cum on his fingers with that deep voice and Carolina accent.

He would shove his wet fingers into your mouth so you could taste yourself while he fucked you from behind. Or from the front. Or from the side.

The side was becoming a favorite because you could look at him while still giving him access to your ass. He would smack it and squeeze it. Then you would hold your ass cheeks apart so he could watch his dick disappear inside you.

Then he’d make a show of licking his thumb and swirling it around your clit to set you off like a bottle rocket. Then you’d scream and scream his name and beg and beg for him to fill you to the brim one last time.

Just one last time. You just needed to feel it soaking your walls one last time. Really, the last time. Because you did have to get on the road soon.

You promised to find a way to spend time together. You weren’t that far from the rental and since he had his own cabin, it wouldn’t be so bad to arrange dates and fuck sessions.

You didn’t know what kind of Christmas miracle this was or who upstairs was looking out for you, but Terry Richmond was the best present ever.

Merry Christmas, my loves! Love ya'll so bad!

The Secret Terry Richmond Files

Taglist:

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@judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi @xo-goldengirl @superhoeva

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loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 2 months ago

Text

Kinktober (4)- What's Your Favourite Scary Movie

Dark Natasha X Reader 18+

Summary: Whilst on the phone to your girlfriend, the conversation starts off innocently with favourite horror films before escalating down a more sinful path. You tell her how you wish she could be here with you, unaware of the small camera she had hidden in your room, watching as she guides you to slide your hand under your panties.

Warnings/Tags: Dark Natasha/Innocent Reader, Stalking, Non Consensual filming, Hidden cameras, Unhealthy Relationship, Possessive and Obsessed Natasha, Phone Sex, Guided Masturbation, Fingering, Dirty Talk

All sexual acts are consensual, the reader is just unaware she is being watched. Please consider the warnings before reading!

Word Count: 4.5k

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

A/N- I hate this chapter with a passion, I want to remove its entire existence from my brain. It annoyed me that much whilst writing. Apologies about the quality of writing in this, I just wanted to finish it before I actually threw my laptop out of a window.

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The sound of the phone ringing caught your attention as you pottered about the kitchen, grabbing the popcorn from the cupboard whilst your other hand reached into your pocket to answer the call on your mobile, a frown gracing your features at the unknown caller id appearing at the top of the screen.

“Hello?” You asked in a hesitant voice, unsure of what scam call would be ringing you this late as you placed the phone on speaker and onto the countertop, using both hands to prepare the popcorn, ready to curl up in bed and watch a horror film to get into the Halloween spirit.

“Hello,” spoke the other person, a familiar husky voice at the other end of the phone making you relax, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you realised who it was, a similar expression appearing on your girlfriends face as she watched you bite your lip shyly, the camera hidden in the corner of the room giving her a perfect and clear video for her to watch you on.

“What number are you trying to reach?” you playfully murmur whilst leaning against the countertop, quoting the opening scene of the film you knew Natasha was obsessed with, the words at the start of Scream practically engraved in your mind as you had watched the film with her so many times, your adorable expression amusing the redhead as she admired the sight of you so innocent and unaware.

“I don’t know,” she continues to go along with your joke, your fingers playing with the end of your jumper as you smile at the other woman’s voice, having missed her all day whilst she was away at work.

“I think you have the wrong number,” you hum out in a tone that suggests you're trying not to laugh at how silly the two of you were, shaking the popcorn loudly so you could skip the small chatter at the start of the film, making it noticeable for her to hear.

“Do I?” she starts off before chuckling in a raspy tone, your cheeks tinting pink at the sound, a little embarrassed at the heat it sent through you as she indulges your tease, “What’s that noise?”

“Popcorn,” your tone is frivolous as you pop the ‘p’, teeth biting down on your lower lip to stop the wide grin that wanted to spread across your face, memories of the two of you wrapped up in tender embraces as the film played filtering through your mind, the two of you practically making it a tradition every Halloween to watch the entire film series.

“You’re making popcorn?” She questions almost knowingly, an amused hum escaping you, the Russian unable to take her eyes off the screen as the way you sway your body slightly, practically giddy as you speak to her, her green softening at your cute form. “I only eat popcorn at the movies,” Natasha says, your eyes rolling as you knew for a fact that was a lie, your girlfriend having a weird taste for popcorn and always randomly buying it for the two of you to share.

“I’m getting ready to watch a film,” you murmur back, taking the popcorn off the stove and placing it into a bowl, pinching a few pieces and throwing them into your mouth to entertain yourself, pleased at the delicious taste of sweet and salty popcorn.

“Really? What?” The redhead asks, adding a bit of theatrics to her tone as she already knows exactly what you’re going to say as you pick up your phone, wandering through your apartment to your bedroom, placing the bowl on your side table before finding the remote to turn the tv on, smiling as you start to search for the film on Netflix.

You chuckle to yourself as you gently toss your phone onto the bed, deciding to get changed into some more comfortable clothes to settle in, your fingers finding the hem of your sweater and lifting it over your head as you reply.

“Just some scary movie,” your tone signals your amusement as you delicately fold the cream coloured jumper, placing it onto your desk before wandering over to your wardrobe, your eyes searching for a suitable sleep shirt to wear as you started the film, not minding if you missed a little bit of the start whilst you got changed. Your gaze flickered over various items, your lips pulling into a confused expression as you struggled to decide on something, your eyes eventually landing on the shirt you had stolen from Natasha, the slightly baggy shirt making you smile to yourself as her raspy voice met your ears.

“Do you like scary movies?” She asks, purposely letting her voice drop an octave, arousal and thrill coursing through the redhead as she watches you slide your shirt over your head, leaving you just in your bra and joggers as you grin at her words, laughing softly before humming in response.

Natasha couldn’t get over the sight of you as you stretched slightly, arching your back to try and crack it before letting your arms reach behind your back to unclasp your bra, swiftly removing it before sliding on the other woman’s shirt, the sight something she was mesmerised by. The sight of you, so casual, so unknowing sent excitement flooding through her, the fact that you were all hers to admire and obsess over… it was everything she could ever want. She wanted to know everything about you, she deserved to know everything about you, where you had been, what you had done, what you did when she wasn’t there, she just had to know. It pleased her to know you were just as innocent and adorable alone, that you were someone easy to manipulate and corrupt into her own little play thing, someone to worship and control. It was all she ever wanted to do with you.

“What’s your favourite scary movie?” She asks, enthralled with the screen as you slide your joggers down your legs, finding a pair of loose shorts to wear instead under the soft duvet, the warmth of your apartment adding to the comfortable and cosy atmosphere as you shake your head softly at both of your antics.

The redhead tries to find it endearing at the way she can see the way the corner of your lips lift at her words, the way your eyes seems to overflow with joy but she can’t, her mind taking a more sinful route at the sight of your legs, the earlier sight of your exposed torso sending warmth through her body. Images of the various times she had watched you at night flooded through Natasha’s head, the countless occasions she intently observed as you moaned her name, your own fingers buried deep inside you as you chased the high you wished your girlfriend was giving you, or the other occasions where she rewatched the footage of the two of you to entertain herself and her twisted fantasies.

“Hmm,” you teasingly say, pretending to think hard about your decision as you settle in bed, watching as Casey talks on the phone to the stranger as the film plays on, your hand reaching over to grab a few pieces of popcorn as you answer her. “Probably Scream because it’s my girlfriend’s favourite,” you softly say, unable to hide your excitement as you smile lovingly, biting on your thumbnail to try and contain yourself, eyes trained on the screen as the patio lights come on, the character’s boyfriend butchered for her to see.

“Girlfriend?” Natasha questions jokingly, your eyes rolling at her words as you make a noise of acknowledgement.

“Yeah, girlfriend. Hi baby,” you murmur, the redhead’s heart melting at your affectionate voice, something inside her craving more of you, needing more to obsess over as she continues to stare at her own screen, the perfect view she has of you all tucked up in bed.

“Hi Detka, I’ve missed you,” she whispers, causing love and care to wrap around you in a snug manner, “How’s your day been?” At her words, you ramble on about your day, the way you explored a little café in the city that you had been wanting to try for a while, the redhead humming along, acting surprised at everything you told her as she already knew exactly what you had done, her ‘busy day at work’ having been spent following you around New York, intrigued as to what you would do. She knew every small detail about your day, the way a small child had accidentally mistaken your for his mother or the way the barista had given you the wrong order by mistake, offering you a free ginger bread in the shape of a spooky ghost in apology, the eyes on the treat slightly wonky. She knew everything, yet she still revelled in the way you told her about your day, the sheer excitement in your voice something she adored.

“How was your day?” You eventually asked after having waffled about a few random tangents, her smile growing at the genuine care lacing your words as you continued to eat some more popcorn.

“Boring as usual,” she huffs out, her lie executed perfectly as you make a sound of disappointment, hoping she had a pleasant day on her work trip, “Coulson is a sweet man but his meetings are so dull.” You smile softly at her, offering a few reassuring words before asking her a little bit more about her day, lie after lie being fed to you as you learnt about your girlfriends day, the other woman’s interest growing when you slide out of the duvet, deciding to lay on top of it instead as you were getting too warm, the sight of your exposed skin capturing every ounce of her attention.

“I wish you were here with me right now,” you murmur into the phone after hearing her say she couldn’t wait to come back to New York, her enchanting green holding a bit of mischief in them, the corner of her lips lifting into a seductive smirk.

“Oh yeah? What would we be doing if I was there?” She rasps out, purposely letting her accent seep into her words, knowing the effect it had on you, the way you shuffled on the bed slightly and squeezed your legs together telling Natasha exactly where your thoughts were heading. You paused before replying, deciding on whether you wanted to elaborate on your thoughts, not wanting to end up frustrated without her touch as she was so many miles away, another part of you tempted to give in and have another sinful night with her over the phone.

“We’d be trying to watch the film,” you start off with, biting down on your lip sheepishly as you decide on your next words, your shy form amusing to her as she watches you blush slightly, lewd images flashing through your mind. “But I think we’d inevitably get distracted…” you trail off, hoping she catches the insinuation to your words, the other woman chuckling at the other end of the phone, knowing exactly how she wants to tease and torment you.

“Distracted with what, Detka?” she asks innocently, wanting you to say everything you were fantasising about, enjoying the way you always became so flustered when she asked you to be direct.

“Nat,” you whine into the phone, a little embarrassed as you wanted her to take control, to lead the conversation and indulge in the desires you were both having. You weren’t sure that you had it in you to tell her how you desperately wished she was on top of you, knee slotted between your legs as she pressed you further into the soft mattress, her fervent lips constantly chasing yours and stealing your breath away, hands caressing your body in a manner that had you moaning in anticipation, wanting to know how her fingers felt elsewhere. You weren’t sure you could vocalise how you also wanted her to press your face further into the sheets as she pounded into you from behind, the strap on reaching deep inside you with powerful thrusts, her hands occasionally spanking you and turning your ass red, leaving her mark on you as she told you that you were her little slut, only hers.

“Come on Detka, I can’t know what unless you tell me,” she mutters playfully, watching intensely at the way you squeeze your legs closer together, your eyes flickering around the room as you get lost in your fantasies, cheeks vibrant and flushed with shyness.

“I don’t know…” you shyly murmur back, not having the confidence to share your thoughts, the innocent tone lacing your words making the redhead smile, your cuteness making this all the more exciting for her.

“Are you sure?” she hums out in a condescending tone, further darkening the colour of your cheeks, a small, shaky breath escaping you at the dominance she radiated. “I guess I’ll just have to tell you what I wish we were doing then,” she teases, planning on how to drive you mad with the idea of her touch, her mind searching for how to torment you and drag you to the brink of madness.

“Please,” you whisper without hesitation, desperate to know what she would do, the other woman always knowing how to make you melt, how to cause a prominent throb between your thighs. The sound of you already pleading with her further entertained Natasha, a warmth settling at the pit of her stomach as she let her mind run wild with sinful images, her hand moving the mouse to make sure her screen perfectly showed you, the resolution as clear as she could manage, wanting to watch everything she was about to tell you to do.

“I’d want to drive you insane Detka,” she husks out, arousal shamelessly pooling between your thighs as you imagine the ghost of her lips brushing the shell of your ear, the way her accent seeps into her words as she would whisper them against you. You can feel your heart already pounding against your chest, a sense of thrill going through you as she continues, your hand subconsciously moving to settle on your thigh, clutching loosely at the fabric of your shorts.

“I’d start of by kissing you softly, slowly, watching as you become the needy girl I love so much,” she purrs out, memories of her gentle but passionate kisses invading your thoughts, the way her teeth would softly bite down on your lower lip, dragging it down playfully before releasing it, crashing her wet and wanting mouth back to yours and clouding your mind with desire and lust. “I’d want you to beg me to do more, to let my hands lower down your body,” she practically whispers into the phone, adding to the intimacy of the moment as you feel the throb between your thighs become more noticeable, your body urging you to move your hand and help you relieve the ache there. “You’d love that Detka, wouldn’t you?” Natasha asks as she can see your hand subconsciously sliding closer to your core, your body craving some sort of relief as you drown in the thoughts of green eyes, red hair and sinful fingers.

“Yes, fuck,” you sigh out in response, vividly picturing everything she was saying to you, thinking back to instances that were engraved in your mind. “Please,” you add at the end, not even sure as to what you were pleading for as she was so many miles away, her eyes lighting up at the plea as she chuckled on the other end of the line, the sound enough to have arousal pooling pathetically between your legs.

“Go on baby, I know you want to touch yourself,” her tone is dominant and amused as she encourages you to give into your desires, her smirk growing as she watches you move the popcorn bowl out of the way, not wanting to knock it over as you settle on the bed, hands moving against your body. “Listen to me carefully Detka, I want you to follow my instructions,” she says, pausing your movements as your hands still at the waistband of your shorts, a small sound of desperation already leaving you as you can feel how soaked your panties were, a hint of embarrassment washing through you at how turned on you already were. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes Nat,” you obediently murmur back, letting your eyes flutter shut as you wait a little impatiently for her guidance, wanting to be able to picture everything and let yourself embrace the moment fully.

“Good girl,” she husks out, making you groan quietly at the praise, the redhead watching with curiosity as you trace random patterns against the fabric of your clothes, attempting to distract yourself. “I want you to slide your hands under your shirt slowly, tease yourself for me Detka,” Natasha murmurs out, emerald eyes trained on the way you immediately obey her words, your cold fingertips meeting your burning skin, making you gasp at the contrast in temperature. You focus on the feeling of your hands, caressing your own skin in the same way she would if she was on top of you, sliding up and down the curve of your hips before going higher, your hands softly cupping your breasts.

“Does that feel good?” Her tone contains a seductive rasps, the other woman enthralled with you as she watches you play with yourself, fingers massaging your chest, fingertips brushing over your hardening nipples as you moan softly for her, slowly building in confidence to let her hear you, unaware of her witnessing everything.

“Yes, fuck I wish you were here with me,” you mutter out, arching your back beautifully and slightly, pushing your chest further into your own hands as you brush over your weak spots, pleasure building gradually inside you. You can hear her mutter something in agreement, not comprehending what she was saying properly as you're too busy imagining her touch, her slightly larger and skilful hands worshipping you, setting your body alight.

“That’s my girl,” she murmurs in praise, watching as you lose yourself in the sinful touches. “Now slide your shorts and panties off for me,” the redhead husks out and it doesn’t fully click in your mind what she’s said, the fact she knew what you were wearing irrelevant to you as you wanted, needed to feel pleasure crashing through you.

A little rushed, you did as she said, shuffling the items of clothing off you, sighing a little at the feeling of your exposed skin meeting the pleasant temperature of the room and the soft fabric of the bed sheets under you. You settled more comfortably on the bed, almost posing perfectly for the other woman, your arousal glistening in the light and clear for Natasha to see, a small curse leaving her lips at the sinful sight.

“Nat please, I wanna come so bad,” you mutter in a desperate voice, your shyness and shame gone as you were too far gone in your delirium of the thought of her. You kept your more dominant hand resting against your thigh, obediently waiting for her permission whilst your other hand moved back up your body, still grazing over the sensitive skin of your breasts, squeezing a little harder, making you gasp in pleasure at the sparks of ecstasy that shot through you.

“Patience Detka,” she hums out a little condescendingly, revelling in the amount of control she had over you, the idea of having such dominance over you thrilling her, her heart beating a little erratically in her chest as she savours the moment, one of her favourite fantasies being lived out again. “I’ll give you what you want soon,” her tone is smug as she watches you move in a protesting way, seeming to be impatient as your fingers press into the soft flesh of your thigh, your hips shifting in an eager and desperate manner. “Tell me how wet you are Detka, use your fingers to feel for me, ” she commands, staring at the screen intensely as you listen to her, moving your fingers to slide through your dripping folds, arousal coating your fingers.

“Shit,” you sigh out, teasing yourself as you move your finger to circle your clit, your hips softly bucking up into your hand as you lose control of your body, giving in to the pleasure flooding through you at finally being able to touch yourself. “So wet, I…Fuck, I’m so wet and it’s all for you,” you groan out wantonly, grinding against your own hand as you pretend it was hers, your pace increase as you continue to please yourself, Natasha moaning audibly on the phone at your words.

‘All for you’ rang around in her head, almost causing something inside her to break, to drive over to your apartment right now and fuck you like she wanted to, but she refrained as she knew she would have been caught, a heavy sigh escaping her instead as she watched through lust-filled eyes as you masturbated to her voice.

“Slide your finger in Detka, I want you to pretend it’s me filling you up with the strap,” she lewdly sighs out, images of the many times you had spent passionate nights with the toys filling both of your minds, a broken moan escaping you as you loved it when she fucked you roughly with the strap on, reminding you of your place, how you were all hers to play with and torment.

“Nat,” you desperately moan out as you slide your finger in, curling it beautifully inside you as your palm brushes your clit with every frantic roll of your hips, euphoria coursing through your veins as you pump your finger in at a steady pace. Growing desperate, you slide another in, curling them both at your sweet spot and sighing out curses and chants of the redhead’s name as your mind fogs over with arousal and pleasure, the sight of you so needy engraving itself in Natasha’s mind as she struggles to take her eyes off of her screen.

“That’s it Detka, fuck yourself like the little slut you are,” she seductively murmurs out, a soft moan escaping you as the coil in your lower abdomen starts to tighten, your movements turning even more desperate and frantic as you chase your release, feeling your body steadily drive you closer and closer towards that familiar edge. “My little slut,” she adds, pushing you significantly closer to your orgasm, the way her accent seeps into her words, voice husky and dominant, sending you reeling in lewd and sinful thoughts and ideas, a whimper leaving you pathetically at the idea of her hand wrapping around your throat as she pounded into you with the strap on, increasing the power behind her thrusts as she watches you fall apart beneath her.

“I’m so close, Nat, please,” you plead, a sense of urgency evident in your voice as you grind against your hand, your free hand clutching at the sheets, knuckles bleeding white at the intense desire crashing through you.

“Come for me Detka,” as soon as the words meet your ears, a guttural moan is ripped from the back of your throat, your body tensing, legs trembling. You throw your head back, neck straining and jawline on show as your body is thrown into your powerful release, hips desperately rocking against your palm. Your ragged breaths and the wet sounds of your fingers sliding in and out of your soaking cunt take over the room as you slow your pace, riding the last waves of your release, pleasure coursing through you until you eventually collapse onto the bed.

Soft words spill from Natasha’s lips, your hazy mind barely processing them as you roll over onto your side, getting comfortable with the sheets around you as you listen to her gentle and delicate voice, the other woman saving the footage of everything that had just occurred to her laptop.

“I’m so proud of you,” she murmurs in a loving voice, making you smile shyly as you relax in the duvet, content on just listening to her voice, missing her presence and wishing she was next to you, her warm and comfortable body embracing yours.

“When do you get back?” You ask after a brief, tender silence, your tone of voice suggesting how much you longed for her to be there with you, the yearning for your girlfriend making Natasha smile. You just wanted to be wrapped up in her arms, her lips kissing your temple affectionately as you both drifted off to sleep or relaxed against one another, continuing to watch the film you put on before losing focus on it.

“I’ll be back in a few days Detka, I promise,” she whispers, finding it endearing how much you missed her, how much you depended on her. It was everything she ever wanted. “I’ll be back soon and we can watch the rest of the Scream films then,” she teases, a small smile gracing your lips at her words, a small warmth wrapping around your heart.

“Good,” you mumble, a little tired after your long day and the recent high you experienced, “We’ll have to try to not get distracted during them.” Your drowsy joke earns a small huff of laughter, her head shaking softly at your antics.

“We can try,” she murmurs in an amused tone, watching you with a tender smile as you start to drift off at the sound of her voice, curled up snug under your duvet. “Goodnight Detka,” she whispers, turning off the live camera and leaving you to sleep, the thought of you continuing to play on her mind, leaving her to obsess over what had happened.

#natasha fanfic #natasha romanoff fanart #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fanfiction #black widow x reader #black widow #scream #stalker #stalker gf #stalking fantasy #dark fanfiction #kinktober 2024 #kinktober masterlist

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trashogram · 11 months ago

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He Chose You (Pt.1)

Lucifer/Reader

Hazbin Hotel AU where Lilith never existed, Lucifer has been lonely for over a millennia and Charlie will be born one way or another. Rated E for explicit sexual content of the raunchiest variety in later chapters and also weird old people.

There was a knock at your door. It sounded like someone rapping their knuckles against the wood whimsically, as if following the beat of a song you couldn’t hear.

The methodical folding of your clothes into garage sale-quality drawers came to a halt. You looked over your shoulder, shifting on your feet hesitantly.

It had been little over a week since you moved into the grand old Donner apartment. Apart from a quick tow-in of shoddy furniture from your hired movers, no one had come calling.

You definitely weren’t expecting anyone either, not in a brand new city you’d spontaneously decided to live in.

After another moment of uncertainty, you pivoted to the door and inched it open to a slit you could peek through. “Hello?”

Your brow furrowed as you stared at the empty space ahead of you. Pulling the door open fully, you peered down one end of the hallway to the other.

Nothing but cracked and crumbling crown moldings on wainscoting, a matted-looking saxony carpet, the same musty, stale air…

‘Quack’

You nearly jumped out of your skin, head snapping down to see a real, live duck standing just outside your doorframe.

“Oh!”

You immediately squatted down to marvel at the animal. It gazed back up at you with beady red eyes and a curious gait.

“Hey little guy,” You cooed, smiling despite the incongruous image of a waterfowl in your building.

You raised a hand and reached out slowly, instinctive desire to pet the cute little creature warring with a minuscule yet no less embarrassing fear.

Were ducks typically friendly? You knew so little, ornithology not being your thing.

“Will you let me pet you?” Your fingers hovered over the surprisingly patient animal before it decided to nudge itself under your palm.

The duck shivered with delight at your touch, all-white feathers ruffling excitedly and tail wagging, looking akin to a very happy dog.

“Oh my god.” You gasped, heart melting. “You’re so cute!”

Soft feathers brushed against your bent knees as the duck drew close enough to rub its body against you. It had gone from doggish to cat-like effortlessly, and you couldn’t help giggling over how silly it looked.

“Where did you come from?” You asked after a bit of cuddling, glancing from side to side once again. The hallway remained empty, no one running to fetch what you assumed was a beloved pet.

‘That’s… weird.’ You thought. ‘So, who knocked on my door?’

It was tempting to ask the bird that was currently bouncing on its webbed feet. You couldn’t help but snort with laughter before positioning yourself so that you were sitting. In an instant, the duck made to climb into your lap, allowing you to carefully lift it onto your legs when it couldn’t reach.

“You’re so silly!” Grinning, you continued to stroke its head. “Your owner is probably worried sick about their silly little guy.”

‘Quack’

The duck burrowed its head against your stomach as it settled on your lap, and you sighed. “I’d love to keep you, but I don’t know how to take care of you, sweetie.”

Little red eyes bore into you from below, seemingly wide and beseeching. It was too precious, and too perfect (to the point where you idly wondered if someone was somehow scouting a way to scam you via adorable duck shenanigans).

Aside from the guttural, sad ‘wek’ you got in reply, a slow creak of hinges drew your attention back up. The door across from you had visibly opened the barest amount. You squinted, just able to make out frizzy red hair and a red-rimmed, down-turned mouth in the dim lighting.

“Oh hey, hi!” You stopped yourself from standing, instead of bracing the bundle in your lap close. “Is this your duck?”

A tingle went up your spine as the door opened fully and an old woman appeared. She was dressed in green capri pants and a ruffled tan blouse, hair red as an open flame and barely kept in-check by a cheetah-print scarf. The makeup she wore was caked on, harsh red lipstick smeared around her thin lips and black kohl-rimmed eyes popping out of her wrinkled face.

The sour, almost suspicious look on her face softened but did not completely go away, even when she smiled.

“Oh Lou!” She cried, making you jump. “You didn’t get very far, did you? I almost didn’t notice you were gone, you little scoundrel!”

“Well, thank goodness for that I guess. He’s got those little legs, ya see,” She nodded down at your lap, “but he’s so darn fast anyway, might as well be a midget racehorse!”

You chuckled and smiled politely. That persistent tingling at your back had you holding back a shiver, and the skin on your arms prickled and rose.

“I didn’t know we could have pet ducks in this building.” Your words belied a confidence, as well as interest in having a conversation with this woman, that you didn’t truly have.

As a matter of fact, despite the inner scolding you gave yourself for being judgmental, you were quite off-put in the woman’s presence. The want to return to your apartment and shut the door in her overly-painted face was rising like a lump in your throat.

“He seems to really like you, that’s so sweet. He’s not usually this friendly with anyone but my hubby. That’s Mr. Farrow, honey, have you met him?” The woman - presumably Mrs, Farrow, leaned down just a few feet away.

She still looked to be examining you and your avian companion, the bland pleasantness oozing yet unable to suffocate the shrewd glint in her dark eyes.

“Oh, uh, no. I’m afraid I haven’t -” You started.

“Oh, that’s alright! That’s fine! Matter of fact, he’d get an earful from me if he was talkin’ to a pretty thing like you without me knowin’!” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Just kiddin’, honey. You’re new to the building though, aren’t you? Well, welcome! It’s nice to see a new face here! ‘Specially a young one!”

“Thank —”

“Maybe that’s why Lou is so taken with you! Animals just thrive off energy and sunshine and all that. Not slow, almost dead things. I’m sure you’re birds of a feather that way.”

Again, your soft laughter is polite, teetering on nervousness.

You took a moment to rise, humming apologetically when Lou squawked as he was jostled. On your feet, you instinctively stepped back. One foot over the threshold and solid in your apartment.

“He is really sweet.” You said, holding the animal out as carefully as you could. “I’m glad he didn’t get lost.”

Mrs. Farrow stared, arms falling to her sides. She didn’t attempt to take the bird from you for a long, long moment.

Confusion and disbelief clouded your mind as you stood, waiting, watching as Mrs. Farrow’s throat bobbed when she swallowed forcefully.

What? Was she afraid of the duck?

In a split-second, she returned to smiling animatedly and waved a geriatric hand in the air so flippantly that the uncomfortable moment ceased to exist.

“Oh honey, you can put him down if you want. He’ll come back over now that our door’s open.” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Lou’s not my biggest fan. He’s such a prideful thing, you know. Just like Mr. Farrow - it’s probably why they get along so well!”

You blinked, then slowly bent at the waist to let Lou down. The duck made another disdainful quack, red eyes looking at you morosely.

It’s little legs eventually rowed through the air in an effort to gain footing. You lightly placed him over the carpet and let go, allowing Lou to jump down.

The duck began waddling away, though it appeared to hang its head as it did so. Occasionally, he turned to look at you, somber and sullen as if bidding farewell before walking on death row.

“Aww, poor little thing.” Mrs. Farrow drawled. At your side. “Looks like my Lou is sweet on you! Poor guy, I can see why! Again, a lovely young thing like you is probably a gift from above in this stuffy old place.”

“Say, how long have you been here?”

You turned to the old woman. “About a week, I’m still getting settled.”

Mrs. Farrow nodded vigorously, eyes bright but mouth pursed. “A week, a week?! A week and no one’s introduced themselves to you?”

“Holy Toledo, you must think we’re all a bunch a’ snobs in here! That’s no good. Oh! Why don’t you come over for dinner sometime and me and my mister can show you some proper hospitality?”

“Oh, that's really nice of you —”

“Sure! Sure! It’ll be great, how ‘bout tomorrow night? It’d give us some time to get prepared, have things cleaned and settled. Do you like steak? That’d be perfect, actually. I’ve got some in the freezer just waitin’ to be defrosted.”

“Um, well — That’s a little short notice…”

“I’m sure Mr. Farrow won’t mind. He’ll be glad for the company, and if he isn’t, well he will be when I’m done with him.” She chortled. “Just another joke, honey. He’s always dyin’ to talk to someone that isn’t me. It’d be a real treat to him. Treat ta me too! What do you say?”

Your mouth opened and closed as a light sheen of sweat broke over the nape of your neck. Mrs. Farrow’s sharp eyes were wider, attempting to beguile you while your head was still spinning.

“I-I guess, maybe —” You stammered.

“Wonderful!” The eccentric woman’s eyes lit up like fireworks, cigarette-smoker’s voice becoming truly raucous in her delight. “I’ll go ahead and get started. You go get back to what it was you were doing before Lou and I interrupted you! And don’t worry about a thing! We might be old timers, but a good meal and good cheer never go out of style.”

Mrs. Farrow laughed, pretending to shoo you away until you were back inside your apartment and she was pulling your door to a close for you.

“Have a good night, honey! We’ll see you tomorrow! 6 o’clock, don’t be late!”

Before you knew it, you were staring at the back of your own door again.

‘What the fuck just happened?’

#hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel

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majinbangus · 5 months ago

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I literally just wanted a sugar daddy/mama!au. Maybe I'll talk about sugar daddies!141 x sugar baby!reader after this. I am not an expert in sugaring, so bear w me here. readers age is not told either, but i imagine reader to be younger than price.

Times are tough; the 141 need funding the government isn't willing to cough up. Price's solution? Getting them a sugar mama.

You never expected your profile to be picked. It was a silly thing you signed up for in a moment of weakness when you were feeling sad and lonely, wallowing after a messy break up. You even forgot about it after a week, throwing yourself in your self-made business, working when you didn't have to, but you needed to bury yourself in it. It's no surprise you forgot all about your little profile, but it is a surprise when you see a missed inquiry from a Mr. John Price about a day old.

Hello, darling. I've never been on this side of the message before, but my boys and I don't have many options, and I needed a solution fast. I saw your profile and I think you'd be a good match for us. We're a package deal, the four of us. You don't have to pay us exactly, we just need some funding for our work. My boys and I are willing to provide you with any type of company you desire. We don't mind sharing and we take care of what's ours. There are other little details we can go more in depth later, although I might not be able to tell you everything. I'd like to hear what you have to say and any questions you may have. Hope to hear from you soon, Capt. John Price

Everything about the message is... strange... to put it kindly, but you can't help but feel this Capt. John Price is being sincere. Maybe that's a naive, lonely part of you that's convincing yourself that the message is real and not some scam. Maybe you're desperate enough to believe someone- four someone's!- actually have an interest in you.

For what you can give them, but you're not entirely innocent either. This Captain Price- you assume he's military- said he and his boys will give you what you need, and if he's a man of his word, maybe they can distract you from all the noise in your head.

You stare at the message. It wouldn't hurt to take a risk, would it? You can always block the man if he ends up being a creep.

It takes you an hour to finally work up the nerve to craft a small message back to the man. It takes less than a minute for him to respond.

Glad to hear from you, darling. I'll tell you everything you need to know.

The rules are simple.

You fund them with enough money each month they need it for however long they need, and they'll give you all the companionship you want. Whether that's sexual or not is up to you. It doesn't matter to them, though John informed you that if it is sexual, you would need to discuss any limits with the other men yourself. With him, you got to briefly stutter through your likes and dislikes, and he did the same, after discussing all of the rules and expectations.

You don't know if you should be thankful or not when he listened with such intense focus. Like you were briefing him on a mission or whatever it is captains like him do. It makes you nervous. He makes you nervous. Not quite in a bad way, but you've never done this before. The idea of paying another person, well this task force, in exchange for some company to fill your pathetic void feels kind of... sad.

You almost talk yourself out of this whole crazy thing, but you're also kind of curious what could come of it. If John and his boys will really be able to distract you and make you forget how lonely you are.

Being alone, being lonely, never really bothered you before, but after your last relationship... It opened up some old wounds and this sugar arrangement could be the perfect distraction. If only for a while. You'll take whatever you can get at this point.

You look over the messages John sent you, lingering over the pictures he sent of him and the other three men. Well. Two men. John told you this Simon guy would show you his face himself if he wanted to. You don't know if it's a sexual thing or not or something else entirely. You were too afraid to ask, and you don't really know if you want to know. But the other three are handsome, if the pictures John sent aren't fake.

You're still not entirely sure you should trust him. Trust that you're not gonna get all your money stolen. The site you signed up on is reputable for sugar mamas and sugar babies. You couldn't find a bad review written about it. Only positive testimonies with positive outcomes. That could be suspicious in and of itself. Hopefully, you didn't make a mistake.

John said that he would meet you next week when he had time off. Alone. In a public space, but alone. He said he didn't want the boys to overwhelm you, and you're grateful for his consideration because you would have been overwhelmed if you met all of them at once.

You still have time to cancel, if the nerves get to you and you chicken out. John even told you you could back out any time you wanted. But. You want to do something different. You need to do something different. Get yourself out of your head and focus on anything else that doesn't make your mind feel like static.

These men can help with that. This'll be good for you. Probably.

As long as this doesn't end up with you mysteriously disappearing or getting murdered, you'll be content with whatever happens. Besides, it's good to do something out of your comfort zone, and what better way than becoming a sugar mama to four military men who can give you all the company and care you could ever want? Hell, that sounds weird to think about.

There are still little things you have to work around, such as their schedules, but John promised that at least one of them would always come when you called. Already, that gives you more comfort than he could ever know, and perhaps that's foolish of you, but it truly meant a lot when he told you that.

You scroll down to the last message John sent and feel something in your gut flutter.

Can't wait to meet you, Mama.

this might an anthology of sorts. maybe have some loose plot to it. idk.

#john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #price x reader #f!reader #141 sweet treat <3

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smutoperator · 1 year ago

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Cam you make jihyo and eunbi x m reader.eunbi and jihyo is reader horny mommy,jihyo want reader to make her pregnant and eunbi want it too because she was jealous.

The Breeding Clinic

Park Jihyo, Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader

Tags: breeding, creampie, titfucking, nurses, rough sex.

Word count: 5961.

Day 1

The last few hours hadn't been the best for Dr. Park Jihyo. Attracted by the alternative of a stable job beyond her already long idol career, she had decided to get a job at a medical clinic in the days she wasn't performing in Twice. However, the first few days of the job had been exhausting for her, leaving Jihyo in a state of despair. As the last patient entered the room, he found Jihyo with her head down, having enough of such a job.

"Hi, I'm here to see a doctor." You entered Jihyo's room. She wasn't much in the mood for another patient this late in the day, having even forgotten she still had someone waiting for an appointment. In spite of that, Jihyo kept it professional, putting her head up as you talked to her, asking for your name to see if that was indeed the case, and then confirming you were indeed scheduled for an appointment. "Sit down there; I'll be back soon with the procedures." Jihyo stared at you, dirty thoughts already in her mind as she looked for. Her previous patients were all insufferable dudes with little man syndrome, but you look different. She kept looking at your sexy stature and plotting what she was about to do.

Jihyo put her uniform in a position where you could clearly see her massive tits popping out before exiting her room. You took the magazines she had put in the waiting room to market her "TT Clinic", almost wondering if this wasn't a scam. The magazine had nothing regarding medical procedures, and it was filled with sexy pictures of two idols: Jihyo and Kwon Eunbi, who was apparently the other doctor in the clinic. You keep looking at the magazines and seeing the same thing before the sound of high heels coming out of Jihyo's room interrupts you.

"Come to my room." She says. You look shocked as Jihyo is wearing those sexy nurse costumes you'd usually see at a party but not at a clinic. A perfect cleavage to showcase her boobs, a red thong, and a pair of gathers connect her nurse outfit to her pantyhose. You obliged, sitting in her medical chair as Jihyo picked up her instruments, ready to examine you. "So, what issues do we have here?".

"I injured my hand; I don't even know how to tell because you'd feel so embarrassed knowing the reason", you tell her. "It's fine; you don't need to tell me; just disclose the injury. Now we're going to follow some standard procedures. Can you please take your shirt off?", Jihyo asked. "Alright", you say as you take it off. Jihyo doesn't even look at your hands, checking instead your heart rate, her breasts bumping against your chest, making you feel a little embarrassed, leading you to ask, "What kind of exam is this?"

"Just relax, baby; trust your doctor", Jihyo replies as she puts her hands under your pants, also taking them off while placing her boobs against your face. Things start taking a wild turn as she wraps her blood pressure monitor around your cock. "Looks too flaccid; let me do something to make it go up", she says, licking the tip of your wrapped cock, as you're only able to groan as her tongue keeps making some naughty circular moves around your tip.

"Ahhhhh", you let out your first loud moan as Jihyo wrapped her mouth around the tip of your shaft, making her smile as you screamed. She pumps the monitor, clenching it around your cock as she keeps sucking it. It turns out she knows how to pump someone's blood pressure up as you start to get hard and your penis veiny at each pump and licking Jihyo gives you. "How about that treatment, baby?", Jihyo asks with a big smile on her face, putting the monitor down as she just turned your cock from a flaccid instrument into a throbbing monster. "Hard as rock, would you mind if I sat down on it?", Jihyo asks.

"Sit down? I-I-I", you stutter as Jihyo starts taking her red panties off, her high heels shaking the floor as she walks in your direction, climbing on top of your body as she lines up your big cock against her tight wet entrance. For a second, you forget your injured hand and try to line it up yourself, but she quickly takes control, grabbing your pole with her left hand and sticking it inside her pussy, moaning for the first time on that exasperating day. She wastes no time, taking your full length in one go. "Ohhhh shit" you exclaim as her tight pussy wraps around your cock.

"Much tighter than that pumper, right, baby?" Jihyo brags as she starts bouncing up and down your cock, taking a pair of inclined bounces before riding you straight down. The little air coming out of her super tight vagina makes it queef, as you hold yourself not to cum after not even a minute inside her. You gave her left cheeks a spank, but Jihyo remains unfazed. "Spank me, baby", she says, as it only makes her bounce faster and go all the way up before slamming straight down your cock. Jihyo sets both feet in the chair as she moves faster every time she slams her cheeks down your hips.

You grab Jihyo's ass, but truly, she's the only one setting the pace; her sexy moans make you go even crazier. Jihyo uses your cock like a training toy, her cheeks clapping against your hips as she tests multiple bouncing motions against your dick. She puts her right leg on the floor with her left leg still holding by the edge of the chair, making your cock hit different spots in her womb. "So how do you like mommy Jihyo's treatment, baby?" she asks. "Oh, yes, it's so good", you reply as you pant at every bounce. "Faster, please" you say as you spank her ass again, and Jihyo grants your wish, riding you in a way that feels like your cock is about to snap in half. "Hold on, baby", you can't resist, and you start thursting upwards into her pussy, making Jihyo release her loudest moans yet. "Oh baby yes baby" she says in a cute voice before taking back control and slamming back down. Her tits bounce very close to your face, but Jihyo makes sure to keep them out of your range.

She then pulls out after a long ride and gives your prick a deep sucking. You can't resist her warm mouth, thrusting hard upwards and fucking it the way you wanted to plow her pussy. Jihyo then gives you a long deepthroat before she gags on your massive cock. You grab her by the hair and make her go down on you again all the way into your balls. But Jihyo is a tough fighter and starts stroking and sucking you like nothing happened. As she licks your balls, you give her tits a little pinch, making her bite your testicles in reaction. "Give me that dirty face", you answer back as you give her an even harder facefuck than the first one.

After this oral session, you get up the chair, holding Jihyo's hands and putting her on her knees against the chair, your hands going straight into her wet cunt. Then you give a pair of spankings to her ass. "Bad doctor, this is what you deserve", you tell her. Your tongue then circles around Jihyo's anus, making her squirt for the first time as you lick her butthole clean. Next, you stick a pair of fingers back in her pussy and start fucking her with them. "You like them better than my cock, don't you?", to which Jihyo only answers with louder moans. "Fuck that pussy and eat that ass", she demands, to which you answer with even more aggressive fingering and tonguing.

You can't resist your urge anymore, sliding your cock back inside her warm hole with her wet folds, inviting you into that chair. You put your fingers in her mouth to shut her up as she tastes her nectar straight from her pussy. The loose buttons of Jihyo's nurse outfit couldn't hold anymore, freeing her tits to bounce as you pounded her relentlessly. You firmly groped her melons as you keep pumping in and out of Jihyo. "Fuck that pussy hard" she says as her voice starts to crack. You started choking her as well, leading to her clenching her tight fuckhole even harder around your cock. "AHHHHHHHH. AHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHH" it was all she could scream as you kept stabbing her insides.

"Give it to me, please", the dominant Jihyo had given away to a begging one as you kept increasing the pace. "Turn around", you said as Jihyo could only give muffled noises out of her mouth, going back to suck your cock without even needing to use her hands, before caving in for another round of you pounding her messy face as tears flew out of her eyes. "Put those tits up for me to see", you demanded as Jihyo grabbed her saggy milkers as you kept destroying her throat, eventually making her gag again as you stuck your sword fully inside, with even your balls being engulfed by her needy mouth. You kept slapping your cock on Jihyo's face while her mouth heated up your testicles.

More sloppy blowjobs, deepthroats, and facefucks followed, but you had your eyes on a bigger prize. Noticing how they freely bounced as you fucked Jihyo's face, you turned your eyes to her huge honkers. "Ahhh yeah, put those tits out" you said as you finished throating her, sliding your cock between her soft milkers. Jihyo spits on the top of her tits to let you slide easier into her fun bags, moaning as you split her boobs in half with your cock. Jihyo's iconic tits are your playground now, as she moans like a whore and licks the tip of your penis every time it's within her range. Her hands on top of your shaft, her melons squeezing and gripping it, her mouth sucking it. Everything is an invitation for you to cum.

But Jihyo isn't done. "Give me that cock again", she asks, as you sit on the chair for another ride, this time in reverse. Jihyo's pink, unshaved pussy now engulfs your cock fully. Her tits bounce like pinballs, but you can't see them, leading her to tease you. She rocks her hips, grinding and circling around your shaft, all that while moaning in a manner that sounds like baby noises. You hold her waist as she fingers her pussy, the chair making loud noises as she presses your body against it harder at every bounce. You grab her tits as she stops the bounce to drink her juices straight out of your cock.

Jihyo grunts as you dunk her face against your shaft, then sucks it compulsively, getting it ready for fun. Her hands stroke it with no mercy, and her mouth throats it deep into your balls. Quickly, she's back on top, where she belongs, as you direct your cock using your injured hand straight inside her warm vagina. Jihyo spreads her legs wide open, allowing you to pump deep into her cervix. She moans as she's about to be sent to the heavens. Her pussycat squirts as your balls hit her clit. "OHHHHH FUCKK YESSS, KEEP GOING!" she yells. "OH MY GOD, DON'T STOP", she grunts as you pump her like a piston and grab both her big tits. "Ah ah ah ah ah oh shit", she says as she bites her teeth. "I love the way you fuck me", she says.

But even at the roughest moments, Jihyo never loses her composure, jumping out of your cock like nothing happened, sitting on the chair and spreading her delicious pussy out for you to eat it out, enjoying as your mouth licked her folds. "Oh yeah, baby, lick that clit" she mandated as you kept sucking her insiders while she grabbed her own tits. She puts her right foot in your neck and her right rand in your head, guiding you towards paradise, but you decided to surprise her, sticking two fingers inside. "Oh yes, fuck that pussy", she moaned. You grope her right boob and leave its nipples close for her to lick them as her pussy gets wetter. Jihyo starts shaking with both your mouth and fingers, now stimulating her pussy, her head drops down, and she gets ready to orgasm, coating your mouth with juices just as you grab her tits again.

You put Jihyo upside down in the chair, cock in her mouth, hand in her tits. As you keep mating against Jihyo's filthy mouth, you move upwards and start fingering her clit. "Don't speak, bitch", you tell her as you keep stimulating her. "Stick that tongue out", you also say as she licks your shaft inside her mouth, only letting it out for her to lick your balls. "Play with that pussy", you say as you go back to honking her tits, your cock still in her face. "Wanna do that to my pussy?", Jihyo asks just as you pull out. You grab her by the waist and put her back in the chair on her knees, letting her tits freely bounce.

The pounding continues for a few minutes until she switches positions. Jihyo lies her back against the chair and spreads her pussy wide open for one final round. "I want you to get me pregnant and make those tiddies grow", she tells you. You start pounding her in missionary, your hands grabbing her just under her boobs before you move up, using her knockers as a grip as you pump in and out of her pussy. "Fuck it, yes, harder", she says as you then grab her neck with your right hand and place your left hand on her soon-to-be pregnant belly. You then start going full speed, your hands all over Jihyo's right side, grabbing both her right leg and tit, before your left hand moves into her left tit and gropes it as you get closer to cumming. Her pussy clenches waiting for that warm load. Jihyo pants loudly, making you take your left hand out of her tits and straight into her mouth. You don't want to hear what her slutty mouth has to say, hyper-focused on destroying her tight pussy.

You eventually decide it's futile, just letting that bitch scream. You put her on a mating press, both hands on her big tits. "Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah oh fuck yes" seems like all Jihyo can say now before she suddenly says, "I want you to fuck that pussy hard until you cum". You grip her boobs even harder, knowing you can't last for much longer. "Please, baby, cum in my pussy", she says with an angelic voice, your hands all over her chest and neck. "Fucking give me that cum. Fill that pussy up; give it to me", Jihyo keeps demanding. You manhandle her like a toy, which eventually leads to you giving in. "Ahhh ahhh ahhh" you groan as your semen flows inside her tight fuckhole.

"Oh fuck, oh shit", you scream as you quickly fill Jihyo up with such a strong load that when you pull out, you still ejaculate sperm into her creamy thighs, and cum quickly starts flowing out of her vagina. "Are you better now, baby?", Jihyo provokes. "A lot better, but my hand still hurts", you reply, ending the appointment.

Day 2

The night after wasn't the best. Jihyo had drained your energies so much that you could barely get yourself hard. Your hand still hurts, but since your medical appointment became a fucking appointment, nothing has changed. So, just like the night before you tried what led to your injury in the first place, jerk off to your endless supply of fancams. However, this time, things weren't working. After the real thing, it was difficult to get hard again. Well, except for one girl frenetically bouncing her tits at some water festival and getting herself wet.

Things got worse the following day; you woke up extremely sore, needing a long bath just to get things rolling. But things took a massive turn when you received an email: it was the bill from yesterday's appointment. The unaffordable cost made your head spin. You felt scammed, ready to go back to the clinic and have a talk with Jihyo. As you arrived, there was no Jihyo to greet you, but another short girl with big tits and a ridiculous nurse outfit. "Hi", she said. You felt almost offended. "What do you mean by hi? What is this?", You showed the medical bill to the girl.

It turns out Dr. Kwon Eunbi's plan worked just as she intended it to. Finding out what you did to Jihyo yesterday made her very jealous and horny. But she needed to find a way to bring you back. Eunbi wasted no time, sending you the medical bill as soon as she set foot in the clinic. You, of course, didn't know anything about this at all. But her goal was met with ease; she knew how mad people can go over money. "So what do you want?", Eunbi asked.

"Jihyo, where is she?", you asked. "Not her shift today; you'll have to wait until tomorrow", Eunbi replied. "What if I don't want to wait until tomorrow?", you said back. "There is no way; she's at another job today and won't come", Eunbi lied. As a matter of fact, she could call Jihyo from her apartment at any moment, but she wasn't going to share with her what she could have for herself. Meanwhile, your blood was boiling. "Fuck!" you screamed. "No way you can call that bitch until tomorrow? What kind of scam do you two run here?", you screamed really mad, but also keeping a look at Eunbi's big tits.

"Stay for today, and you'll find out", Eunbi laughed. Her outfit was even skimpier than Jihyo's, showing off her belly and with just a nurse top covering her tits. Her red panties were just like her big-tit co-worker's. Eunbi got back to her room but left the door open, remaining in your sight. As she turned back to close the curtains, you could see her bare back, her ass in undies, and even a sideboob. Eunbi then turned around and grabbed her tits, teasing you from afar.

"What the hell is this?", you asked, coming towards her room. "You two are not real doctors, just a bunch of scammers", you said. "And who are you to tell us that? I know you liked being scammed by that other big boob bitch that works here, didn't you? She told me everything", Eunbi stood her ground. You grab Eunbi by her arm, growing madder at her. "I'm gonna dennounce you both. Running a brothel disguised as a medical clinic, you two are disgusting", you said. "Surely you didn't find it disgusting when you were fucking the shit out of her baby boy", Eunbi punched back.

"Alright then. Let's find out". You picked your credit card out of your wallet and paid the so-called unafforable medical bill Eunbi had sent you. "So after this money I paid you, be honest: is this a medical clinic or a brothel?", you asked. "It's whatever you want to be, baby boy", Eunbi replied. "Now you're mine too, bitch", you told Eunbi. "Yes, I am", she confirmed, jumping on you as both of you started kissing each other.

Eunbi headed to a different room. She knew that one had been used by Jihyo yesterday, and it still smelled like sex. But she didn't want to fuck while sensing her co-worker's smell. She couldn't stop kissing you; it was really her thing. And you couldn't stop looking at her tits, ready to burst out of that top; it was really your thing. Just like Jihyo, Eunbi was quite strong, as despite her light frame, she managed to pin you against the window. She quickly started working around your pelvic area, putting her hands on your still clothed but already hard cock. "Let's see if you can fuck me better than that bitch", she said.

You answered her moves back, grabbing Eunbi's ass and giving soft kisses on her neck. It wasn't long before you started sucking her right tit, wondering how her milky melons tasted. Yesterday you were too afraid to do that to Jihyo, but today you went after Eunbi's massive milkers from the start. She kept her hands on your cock, exclaiming "Oh you're so hard" as you kept grabbing her boobs. Eunbi couldn't resist for long, dropping to the floor and licking it with your pants still on. She quickly tossed them out, grabbing them with her left hand while wearing her nurse gloves, stroking them, and sucking them right from the get-go.

"Oh my God", it was your first reaction as she finished her first sucking, staring at your massive shaft with lustful eyes. "It's so much better than the old and twinky cocks I usually suck here", she tells you before giving you the first deepthroat of the day and a few more hard and fast strokes, her tits already fully out. Eunbi then added some spit to her intense stroking as she kept diving her mouth in and out of your prick. If Jihyo moans were on the cutesy side, Eunbi's were more like the ones of a veteran pornstar.

It wasn't for long before you unleashed the rage she had made you feel. The first victim was, of course, her mouth. As Eunbi was giving you a deepthroating, you grabbed her by the hair and started fucking her face. Her sexy moans after you pulled out turned you on even further. Eunbi put her tongue out, licking the tip of your penis as you swung it close to her slutty face. Of course you took full advantage, letting her lick your whole cock from balls to tip while also slapping it against her face.

"Use me", she demanded. Hearing those words only increased your desire to fuck the shit out of that bitch as you humped your cock against her face. Yesterday you were too nice to Jihyo, but today you'd be the one taking control and turning Eunbi into your sex object. You inserted your cock back in Eunbi's throat, making her gag. She moaned every time you pulled it out, which drove you insane. You pushed Eunbi close to the bed and slammed your hips against her chin, jerking yourself off as she licked your balls like a maniac. "God you're so fucking slutty!" you exclaimed, grabbing her neck and spitting in her mouth.

You got on her knees and went straight up into fucking her tits, "aaaahhhh. aahhhh, ahhhhhh" out of breath moans coming out of her mouth. You push her tits against each other, holding your shaft with just your thumb as you kiss her. "Yes, baby, slide that cock under those fucking tits", she said, bobbing her head to take your penis head in her mouth. "Spit on it, spit on it, whore", you demanded, fucking her even harder and even using the straps of her fallen bra as a support. Eunbi put her tongue out as your cock kept meeting her needy mouth, sucking it deep as soon as you paused a bit.

"Oh God damn it," you reacted, pushing Eunbi's head against your crotch, making her engulf your sword balls deep again. Out of breath, she lied only the top of her back in the bed as you tried ripping her nurse outfit. It turns out it was easier just pulling her panties to the side and sliding inside her tight mommy pussy. "Aaaaah aaaaahh aaaaah", Eunbi moaned as your cock went between her legs. She attempted to start riding, but you were having none of it, putting her back against the bed and thrusting your hips against her hot body, making her tits bounce from the start.

You firmly groped Eunbi's tits, her moans getting louder at each thrust. You spanked her tits before grabbing her by the waist and sticking your thumb on her belly button. "OH, YOU'RE SO FUCKING DEEP INSIDE ME, DAMN IT", she screamed. Her pussy was on fire as each thurst you gave her made Eunbi twist harder and harder. Eunbi was almost falling on her knees; she wasn't expecting such a rough treatment and quickly started losing the strength she had once shown. You grabbed her by the neck, choking her like she was just a sex doll.

It wasn't long until you carried Eunbi, taking advantage of her weakness, your cock still inside her hole. She screamed as you lifted her off the ground and started carryfucking her, Eunbi's tits bouncing right at your face for you to suck. She felt truly scared; even though she had been fucked in that position multiple times, you had put her completely at your mercy. "Oh my God", she screamed as she spanked her own ass. "Yes, bitch, spank yourself like the useless whore you are", you told her. "Fuck!" Eunbi yelled as she spanked her ass again, leading to your cock briefly pulling out of her hole.

"Put that cock back in, put that shit in", you ordered, punishing her almost immediately. Just as Eunbi tried to make up for her little slip by trying to bounce on your cock, you pulled out of her and slammed her body back first against the bed, while also yanking your pants off. "Oh, baby, please give it to me", Eunbi begged, bobbing her head against your cock while upside down. You kept testing her limits, fingering her pussy while she throated your cock using none of her hands, until finally hitting the right spot in her clit that made her moan and pull it out of her mouth. But she quickly recovered and kept sucking, making you put even more pressure and work your magic inside her folds until you finally turned her into a moaning machine.

"Oh God", she said in the middle of many moans. But you didn't care. "Put that tongue in my balls", you immediately asked from her as she also jerked you off with her glove around your shaft. All your fingers except your thumb were now fucking her pussy, making Eunbi moan with your balls in her mouth. "That fucking pussy is so damn wet", you exclaimed before moving to her tits, groping them hard once more, and sitting on top of Eunbi for another round of titfucking, even better now with her tonguing your asshole.

After a while, you flipped Eunbi back, ripping her nurse outfit for good and going back to work. Her cunt was even wetter now. Eunbi was caught off guard by the speed at which you were plowing her, moaning like a submissive toy. You spat on her vagina and slapped your cock against her clit, before going back in for another extreme pounding, rattling the bed. "Oh God", Eunbi screamed again as you started fingering her while working her insides. Her legs started to tremble, giving you even more room to destroy her unchallenged as her left leg went up in the air. "You're so fucking deep, I'm gonna cum", Eunbi announced as you fingered her hard, making her legs shake even harder.

"There you go, cum for me, bitch", you said as you noticed Eunbi shaking, her legs closing, and her screaming as you kept pounding her while she reached intense orgasms. "Holy shit", you said as her insides closed around your cock, but you kept fucking her relentlessly, taking advantage of a now weaker than ever Eunbi. She kissed you, trying to cling to anything as her fuckhole kept being obliterated. She could barely speak properly, saying a bunch of words you interpreted as "keep sticking that cock deep inside me." After a while, all she could do was beg. "Please, please, please", she kept screaming.

You dropped Eunbi to the ground, letting her taste her juices straight from your cock. "Good girl", you laughed, putting a stop to it as she attempted to suck it deep by fucking her face once more. Eunbi was so weak, you managed to grab her by the nipples and pinch her back against the wall. She put her right leg on the window as you fucked her from behind, spanking her ass in the process. More grunting noises came from her mouth as you continued the pounding and spanking. "You're a fucking animal, fucking me so good", she said. Hearing it gave you further incentive to fuck her even harder, turning her ass cheeks redder at each spanking. "I'm that fucking bitch", Eunbi kept saying.

Indeed, by that point, Eunbi was your bitch, as she started shaking once more. Sensing it, you fingered her folds again, seeking for that second orgasm in just a short period of time. Eunbi lost her balance, gabbing your cock with her left hand as it landed right on her face. "Do you want it, bitch?", you asked her. "Yes, put it on my tongue", Eunbi said, almost losing her voice. She licked your tip before you stuck it deep in her throat once more, grabbing her by the neck as soon as she gagged. You lied on the bed with Eunbi on top of you. She finally got herself fully naked as you inserted your cock back into her pussy. Her big tits were looking amazing.

You gave no time for Eunbi to adjust, keeping control even with her on top, grabbing both her boobs while thursting hard inside her pussy. Both your hands went down to finger her clit as you made the bed scream. "That's for you, my tight pussy, that's for you, baby", she said, almost out of breath as you kept destroying her babyhole. "I love watching that dick split me up", Eunbi said as you spread her clit wide open, exerting extreme stimulation on her sensitive spots. You slapped her clit as she moaned louder, before rocking her hips and pounding her insanely, then gripping her boobs once more. Eunbi had barely any force to do anything, spitting on her own pussy which prompted you to call her a nasty girl. "So good; I'm a dirty fuckwhore", she said.

You put her body close to yours, kissing her while your right hand held her clit. "I'm a fucking whore, I'm a fucking whore, for you", she repeated as your mouth sucked her neck and right boob. "There you go, come on, come on, bitch", you said as Eunbi once again was coming close, shaking her legs once again. Eunbi was now completely dominated, as you grabbed her tits hard and kept plowing her, her head almost falling out of the bed. "Take me, take me, take me", she demanded as you pumped her hard. All she could do was moan. Her legs kept shaking as you fingered her once more, her body twitching as she came onto your fingers. As she released her juices, you spanked her juices and quickly moved back to her tits, stimulating her at both the top and bottom of her body.

"That's my whore, that's my whore", you exclaimed as you rocked the bed, putting your right hand in her mouth to silence her moans. Eunbi started fingering herself as you kept pounding her, finally reaching full climax and rocking her hips against your cock. You asked her to pull it out so she could taste it. Eunbi savored it as if she were a kid eating ice cream, but she wanted more, quickly jumping on top of you and lining your shaft back against her entrance. "Put it in", you demanded, hugging Eunbi as soon as she was deep inside you. Unlike Jihyo, you knew she didn't have the strength for a ride after such a rough pounding, meaning all you got was another chance to destroy her pussy unchalleged.

Of course you took it, starting very slowly and giving her ass some grabbing and spanking. Eunbi was crying at this point; her moans were now followed by tears flowing out of her eyes. "Daddy, daddy", finally hearing those words from Eunbi's mouth made you flip a switch, turning you more animalesque than ever as you switched quickly from slow thursts to another hard plowing, wrapping her body around your arms. "AH AH AH. FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME", Eunbi screamed, trying to hold herself to the bed's headboard and to the wall as you sucked her tits. "DADDY!" she screamed again and started riding you, trying to show she wasn't being utterly dominated, her bounces were deep and slow, almost like she was exerting all the will inside her to execute them.

That didn't last long, as you quickly got back to your normal route, plowing Eunbi once more. You unwrapped her from your arms, letting her body stay upright, reaching now to grab her tits. Eunbi moaned some uninteligible noise, which you heard as "FUCK MY PUSSY", You obliged and kept going, pushing her ass down against your pelvis, then you You quickly take Eunbi in your hands, grabbing her waist with ease, and carry fuck her once more, more violently than ever. You then pull out of her, slapping her face as you put the bed's pillow on the floor, pushing her head towards it. An upside-down Eunbi then screams, "GET ME PREGNANT NOW.".

That was what you wanted to hear. The thought of impregnating two titcows on back-to-back days gets you extremely turned on. You put Eunbi in a piledriver position, grunting as you get back inside her. Eunbi's tits and her slutty moaning mouth upside down make you get even more maniac. "PUT THAT ASS UP, I WANT THAT CUM FLOWING STRAIGHT TO YOUR FUCKING WOMB", you yell at Eunbi as you pull out to let her adjust before going back in again, this time not even looking at her, treating her as if you were fucking your personal fleshlight. "Cum in my little fuckhole", Eunbi demands, to which you answer by spanking her ass. You start groaning, ready to burst at any moment. "OH MY GOD, YOU'RE SO DEEP", she screams. "Spread that pussy for me, bitch", you scream. As Eunbi now can only moan, she closes her eyes, getting ready for you to fill her womb with your thick load. "Give me that fucking cum", she says right as your cock pumps out that white milk straight into her womb. You pull out but have so much to give; some of it bursts right after and hits her tits.

"You drained me good, you fucking bitch", you tell her. "That's amazing", Eunbi says as she cleans your cock, satisfied that she won't have Jihyo as the only one bragging about the wonders of your cock. "Exactly what I needed", you say as you walk out of the room after two days of putting up an exhilarating breeding clinic for these two titcows. Eunbi fainted on the floor as you put your clothes back on and left. As you went back home, you deleted all your fancams from your drive, knowing you'd never be able to replicate the experiences. In your drive, only two sets survived: Jihyo in a bikini and Eunbi bouncing on that waterbomb festival. As if you ever missed them, you could take a look at those tits and remember these special times.

#jihyo smut #eunbi smut #kwon eunbi smut #twice smut #izone smut #girl group smut #female idol smut

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