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redeyerhaenyra · 1 year ago

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Hey, its ya girl, ominoose. Honoured to be here on opening night.

I would like to request Jake Lockley, Blue Jones and Basil Stitt with a curvy/chubby reader please! XOXOXO

Jake, Blue, Basil, with a curvy reader

Summary: Some headcanons for Jake, Blue, and Basil with a curvalicious reader

Warnings: Masturbation(male), possessiveness, unhealthy relationships in Basil's section, recording, thigh fucking, dollification(?)in Blue's section, a small bit of titty worship if you squint

Notes: MUSHI omg, yes yes yes 1000% yes, autistic bisexual curvy oscar isaac lovers RISSSEEE- I kinda got carried away with Basil's section hehehe but I hope you enjoy nonetheless :)

Jake Lockley

OK so if there's one thing we know about Jake, he is the opposite of shy, especially when it comes to his affections for you

Man lives and breathes to just look at you

The bastard will fucking pout if you're going out and you don't wear tight clothes

"But, hermosa, I wanna show you off, you're so hot. Everybody wishes they were you, prometo."

He's so proud you're his, there is nothing about you he doesn't love. Like I said earlier, he just likes to look at you.

All the curves and bumps, your soft tummy, your plush thighs, he can't get enough.

You will be sitting in his lap most of the time and this is non negotiable

It's half a sex thing for him and half that you're basically his plushie that he likes to cuddle, just having you sit pretty on his lap, all warm and squishy, makes him feel better

I think he'd definitely be into thigh fucking like c'mon now it's obvious

Feeling and seeing his dick between your squishy thighs just makes him go feral

I've said it before I'll say it again he fucking lives for making Marc and Steven jealous and recording himself fucking your thighs on Steven's phone for the poor guy to find later is just one of the many ways he does that

He talks alot too, just to rub it in further

"Guau, qué chica tan bonita. Hmm? You're so beautiful aren't you, baby? So perfect and squishy for me, I bet Marc and Steven wish they were here right now, huh? Don't you agree? Yeah, I bet you do."

Blue Jones

Oh no

If you thought Jake was bad you have a whole nother thing coming

Blue will PERSONALLY make sure all the costumes you wear on stage highlight just how curvy and plush you are.

But no one else is allowed to touch you

Oh no, that right's reserved for him and him alone

Tbh even when you're not performing, he'll want you to be wearing tight fitting shirts so he can stare at your boobies as you go about your day

Yeah he's a tit guy, don't get me wrong he loves all parts of your body but titties just do it for him

Him and Jake are very similar tbh, he also likes to show you off.

When high rollers are in the club you'll be sitting on his lap and no one else's

You're his doll, toy, barbie even

He likes to dress you up and play with you ;)

I'm serious he will pick out outfits for only him to see you in, dress you up in them, sit you on his lap and brush your hair

Like I said you're his toy, his stress ball, even

Just squeezing you will calm him down, any part of you, it's almost grounding to him

He talks to you in these moments, but it's just sort of general babbling about how shit his day was, and all you have to do is sit in his lap and let him nuzzle your breasts

"You're so good to me, bunny. I don't deserve you, do I? No matter what I do you're always here.. always so soft for me.."

Basil Stitt

Ah, everyone's favorite recluse

Look at the way this man lives and tell me he's not a porn addict please

YOU KNOW I'M RIGHT

So we've established that he's a greasy little basement dweller who watches porn on the regular

And we all know that most mainstream porn showcases sort of a singular body type (no hate to my skinny ladies btw ily mwah mwah)

Like it never occurred to him that he might find chubby ladies attractive

So when you, his new neighbour, moving into the apartment across the hall from him, knock on his door to say hi with the most wonderful tight leggings on he basically dies on the spot

The way your thighs looked so squishy and plush- he just wanted to grab them and sink his teeth into them

He tried to end the conversation as quickly as possible because he knew he would've ended up moaning out loud at any point

And then you turn around to walk away AND HE SEES YOUR ASS he's dead he's so dead

The next time he sees you, you're coming back from a night out, clearly a little tipsy, and wearing the shortest, tightest black dress he's ever seen, he dies a second time

His face is pressed up agaisnt the peephole in his door so he can watch you

You drop your keys at one point and bend over to pick them up and he basically cums in his pants untouched

Groaning and falling to his knees as his now softening dick rubs against the wet patch in his jeans

He makes it a point to watch you whenever he can now

He learns your schedule off by heart, it becomes his schedule. Probably has alarms set for it on his phone

Like "Oh , it's 9AM, time to watch my neighbour leave for work." "Oh its 8:30 time to watch her come home."

He really desperately wants to talk to you more but the poor guy is just so insecure :(

This cycle continues for a while.. until one fateful day, you come back from your weekly night out, in the same tight black dress that he loves so much on you... but this time... you're accompanied by a man

The both of your are similarly a little drunk, giggling and fumbling over the keys to your apartment

What? What's this? A friend, brother... partner? Basil silently begs you from behind the door to not let him into your apartment but oh god that's exactly what you do

He feels the tears running down his face before he realises he's crying, pleading for you to stop from behind his door.

His pleads turn to shouts as you close the door, sniffling and crying

Definitely fucks up his apartment again in his anguish

And when he's done that he angrily jerks off, to get back at you? He's not sure. He doesn't even know if you're having sex with the guy, or if it's just a friend you're letting crash at your place, but he's so obsessed with you he can't imagine it being any other reason that you would "betray" him like that

His poor cock is red and sore and he realises he shouldn't have tugged on it so hard 🥺 poor baby

He spends the next day crying in bed, it feels like you've dumped him when you're both barely more than acquaintances but by this point he's formed a sort of parasocial relationship with you, and your soft tummy, that he can't get over the prospect of you even looking at other men

And so, it's decided. He's going to go, knock on your door, and talk to you.... tomorrow. One day. He will do it! Just.. not today.

#blue jones #blue jones sucker punch #blue jones x reader #blue jones smut #mushi ♡#jake lockley #jake lockely x reader #jake lockely smut #jake lockley moonknight #basil stitt #lightning face #basil stitt x reader #basil stitt smut

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pattwtf · 8 months ago

Text

Well, it seems like I always say the same thing every time I read something written by @alwaysmicado but it's just the pure reality:

This wonderful woman's talent, ideas and the way she captures them in writing are truly insane. I am in so love with every single text I have the privilege of reading.

And now, about this particular part.... I was warned that it was going to be too hot, but I was not prepared for such a marvel. A minute of silence for my pussy. Thank you.

And directly to you, dark side twin, tell you that I love you, and that you are spectacular.

Nothing else left to say but... SMILE, BABY!😏❤️🥰😜

smile, baby

5.1k | 18+ MDNI | Nathan Bateman x f!reader

Warnings: D/s dynamic, drinking, degradation, orgasm denial, masturbation (m), spitting, big fat cumshot Summary: Nathan teaches you a lesson in submission. You hate love it. A/N: Filth with heart. I can't be normal about this man, okay? Can be read alone or as a prequel to in control and predator & prey. Enjoy and let me know what you think! 🤍

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” he asks. “Giving up control. Being able to turn your brain off.”

– – –

“What are we doing tonight?” You sit down on the couch beside Nathan, a glass of wine in hand.

“I’m watching TV,” he answers coldly without as much as a glance in your direction.

“Hmm…okay,” you murmur. You take a generous sip from your glass, appreciating Nathan’s excellent taste in wine. It’s your favorite; you discovered it on a trip to France during your college years and haven’t been able to find it since then.

What an incredible coincidence that he would just have it here, right?

Not right.

Unbeknownst to you, Nathan meticulously arranged every single detail of your living environment before you even crossed the threshold of his mansion for the first time.

The exquisite wine you now sip, seemingly a stroke of luck, was deliberately stocked to align with your taste. Much like the lavender shampoo that envelops you in its soothing fragrance during each shower, the never-ending supply of fresh strawberries, and the perpetually replenishing KitKats in your minibar, each aspect of your surroundings has been carefully curated to ensure your every comfort is met.

You haven’t really picked up on that fact yet, as you’re still in the process of settling into your new, exciting, but overwhelming environment.

In the two weeks since moving in, you’ve immersed yourself in the intricacies of artificial intelligence, navigating the uncharted waters of innovation under Nathan’s eccentric mentorship.

And eccentric, he is.

It took you five minutes of mostly one-sided conversation to realize that his intellect, an unmatched force of brilliance, is rivaled only by the staggering magnitude of his ego.

And, even more strikingly, it took you just as little time to realize you’ve never craved another human being as badly as you do him. There’s just something about him…beneath all the arrogance and assholery. You can’t put your finger on it, but you feel it’s there.

Nathan sensed your immediate attraction to him, of course, reading your microexpressions and body language. And after a few days of subtle teasing, he decided to give you a small taste of pleasure you didn’t know you were capable of, only to leave you without it for the past week since then.

Beyond lingering glances, the subtle brush of his hand against the small of your back in the kitchen, the knowing smirk when he catches you stealing glances at the bulge in his shorts, or his deliberate choice to work out shirtless—Nathan has been purposefully cold, relishing in your growing desperation.

For him, this is more than a game; he revels in a level of amusement he hasn’t experienced in years.

He could never get the androids to look at him with the same intensity, hunger, and raw need he can see in your eyes, and the control he now holds over your desires is a source of unparalleled satisfaction.

He definitely made the right choice by selecting you.

Nestling your feet under you in an attempt to find comfort on the cushion, you silently study your boss’s profile, observing as he brings the fourth bottle of beer to his lips. Your eyes slowly trace the distinct contours of his nose, the meticulous lines of his beard, the strength evident in his neck and shoulders, until they finally reach the casual sprawl of his naked feet at rest on the coffee table.

His lidded eyes remain unwaveringly fixated on the screen as he leisurely surfs through the channels, a deliberate act of indifference that extends to ignoring your presence. You nervously chew on your lip, trying your hardest not to break the silence first, even though you so obviously want to.

Seemingly absorbed in the movie he settled on, Nathan is keenly aware of your eyes repeatedly drifting towards him, lingering for a few seconds before retreating reluctantly back to the indifferent glow of the screen.

You’re so cute when you’re trying to be coy.

“Did you think of me?” he asks suddenly, taking a sip of his beer.

“Did I…huh?” you respond, startled, your brow furrowed in confusion.

He turns his head to look at you, his face revealing no emotion, his dark eyes piercing yours. A shiver runs down your spine as his gaze drops to your lips for a split second before finding your sparkling eyes again.

“When you were fucking yourself with that purple dildo last night. Did you think of me?” He peers at you with a straight face, casually taking another sip from his bottle.

“Wha–”

Your heart skips a beat, and heat immediately rushes to your cheeks as his words hang in the air. Shocked and exposed, your eyes widen, and your body tenses. After a few endless seconds, surprise turns into a mixture of anger and humiliation as you figure out how he knows.

Mother. Fucker. There’s a fucking camera in your room.

“No need to act embarrassed, baby,” he scoffs. “You put on quite a show.”

“It’s not technically a show when I’m unaware that my pervy boss is watching me, though, is it?” you snap at him, crossing your arms defensively in front of your chest.

“Yeah, well. It’s all in the NDA you signed.”

“Oh, of course it is,” you chuckle incredulously, looking up at the high ceiling of the living room.

“Did you think of me?” Nathan asks again, his eyes not leaving you.

“Uh...yeah, I did.” You down the rest of your wine in one go.

“Tell me about it.”

You sigh deeply. “You saw everything, so why don’t you tell me?” you say, unsuccessfully trying to mask your embarrassment with annoyance.

Nathan raises an eyebrow but doesn’t respond.

When he had you on your knees in front of him a week ago, hands tied behind your back, allowing you a few seconds to catch your breath before going back to fucking your throat, he asked if you’d thought of him while touching yourself. You were flying high at that point, teetering on the edge, so desperate for release that you would have admitted anything he asked.

And so, you blurted out the truth.

He can tell you regret it now, but that only makes him want to push you further. The thought of forcing you to admit what you want, what you are, has his cock hardening in his sweatpants.

“Okay, fine,” you murmur, unable to take the deafening silence anymore. You clear your throat and shift uncomfortably in your seat.

“I couldn’t fall asleep and thought…you know, an orgasm might help. So I started with my hand, trying to get myself off as fast as possible. But then, um, that wasn’t enough,” you trail off, your gaze avoiding his, and you set the empty wine glass on the coffee table with a sigh.

“Look at me, baby.”

Nathan studies your face, typically adorned with a confident smile, and feels a surge of satisfaction as he takes in your dilated pupils and bashful expression. This is turning you on.

“Continue.”

“My fingers weren’t enough, so I thought I could use the toy I brought. I, um,” you inhale and exhale deeply, “I imagined it was you and I thought of what you…I thought of what you’d do to me.”

Anxiously, you search his eyes for a sign of approval, your heart racing in your chest.

“What did you think I’d do to you?” he asks, taking a swig of his beer without breaking eye contact.

You swallow audibly, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, your cheeks ablaze with heat. The sensation coursing through your body is undeniable—an intoxicating blend of humiliation and arousal.

Under Nathan’s intense scrutiny, you can feel yourself growing wetter with each passing second, succumbing to the forbidden pleasure of confessing your innermost, shameful desires.

“I thought you’d grab me like last time and kiss me…kiss my neck, bite my lip, hold me down while…” you stop again, too ashamed to go on.

“Hold you down while?” Nathan prompts, making it clear that you’re not done talking.

You tilt your head and furrow your brow as your gaze lingers on the man who has dominated every waking thought since the first time your eyes locked with his.

He’s condescending, self-centered, moody, and so used to playing God in his kingdom of androids that he’s seemingly forgotten how to connect with humans and their emotions. And yet, there’s an inexplicable allure about him that has you longing for his touch, his attention, his…guidance.

What is going on with you?

“I imagined you’d put your weight on me, keeping me pinned down, making it impossible for me to get away,” you say, peering at him through your lashes. “You’d fuck me, hard, using me in any way you like.”

You bite your lip and shift in your seat, feeling your pussy clench around nothing as you catch sight of Nathan’s hard cock twitching beneath the elastic fabric of his sweatpants. He’s still looking at you, his casual demeanor unchanged, beer in hand on his belly.

“You’d take, um, you’d take control of me, choking me, muffling my screams with your hand, grabbing my tits. I’d beg you to let me come, you’d bring me right to the edge and then you’d stop, denying me over and over again, and using me until I…”

“Until you?”

The subtle arch of Nathan’s eyebrow, the lingering scent of his beard oil, the way his lips press against the glass bottle’s opening—it all ignites an overwhelming surge of arousal within you, urging you to give him what he wants.

“Until I couldn’t take it anymore,” you purr seductively, your pupils so dilated your eyes are black.

“Is that the thought that made you squirt all over your bed?”

Your jaw drops and your chest tightens, the humiliation intensifying as he talks about this intimate, vulnerable moment with such nonchalance. Like it’s not a complete invasion of your privacy. Like he’s not penetrating the very core of your personal boundaries.

You feel a flutter in your stomach, and your throat constricts as you struggle to find your words.

“I…no,” you murmur, averting your gaze. Your eyes land on Nathan’s hand gripping the bottle a little harder than before. “What pushed me over the edge was you telling me to come.”

When your eyes meet his again, you recognize the same dark glint in them that you saw seconds before his lips crashed against yours for the first time.

“I would beg you to let me come over and over again, and you’d always deny me…until you decided I deserved it. And when you, uh, when you ordered me to come on your cock, I came so hard I lost all control.”

Nathan can barely hold back a groan as you confess your desire for his dominance. His cock is leaking precum, staining the inside of his pants. He’s this close to ripping your clothes off and taking you right here, right now, burying himself deep inside you and filling you up with his cum.

But that’s not the plan for tonight.

“Is that so,” is all he says, turning his head back to the TV, a satisfied, almost unnoticeable smirk playing on his lips. He chugs the rest of his beer, then sets the empty bottle down on the little side table next to him.

Keeping his eyes on the flickering screen, he purposely ignores you again, reveling in the escalating neediness and desperation he perceives from you. He can sense your fidgeting and squirming beside him, uncertain of your next move. After a brief pause, you lift your hand but retract it hesitantly. Amused, Nathan catches a glimpse of your indecision from the corner of his eye.

You’re such a perfect little slut—beautiful, eager, smart, pliant. And it just tickles him that you could scream at him to fuck your ass harder during sex, but act all shy and flustered when asked to talk about it.

Another minute of silence, and you’re unable to resist any longer. Your swollen clit is painfully sensitive, your damp panties are clinging to your pussy, and your brain is screaming at you to make a move. You reach out again, this time making contact with Nathan’s clothed chest. The rhythmic beat of his heart becomes palpable under your touch, and feeling his body connected with yours has you pressing your thighs together.

Your breath quickens as you slowly start trailing your hand down his chest and his belly, but before you get a chance to touch his cock, he stills your hand with his.

“Don’t,” he says without looking at you.

You wince and immediately pull your hand away, clasping it protectively against your chest with your other hand.

“I thought…sorry.” You look at him like he just slapped you.

Nathan sighs, but doesn’t say anything. There’s no scolding, no inquiries, no indication of what he wants you to do—it’s unnerving. You’re fidgeting with your shirt again, clearing your throat, and shifting your legs, trying to find a position that will alleviate at least some of the burning ache in your core.

“Can I–” you say quietly, but cut yourself off. You’re facing him completely now, feet tucked under you, hands on your thighs, a silent restraint preventing you from reaching out to touch him again.

Satisfied that you’re learning, he decides to reward you with his attention. His eyes find yours again, and he’s pleasantly surprised by what he sees. It’s not just lust or neediness; no, you’re lost. Completely, unequivocally lost without his orders.

Nathan’s used to Kyoko looking at him with a blank face, awaiting his commands, reacting to his actions, doing what he programmed her to do. But this is different.

You actually want him to tell you what to do.

He takes his feet off the coffee table and scoots back in his seat, spreading his legs. “Sit on the floor,” he orders, watching with an imperceptible smile as your eyes light up. You quickly get off the couch and kneel on the floor between his legs, your eyes fixated on the outline of his cock inches from your face.

You want to taste it so bad you can feel yourself salivating at the sight. You bite your lip and move a little closer, looking up at Nathan expectantly before gently putting your hands on his thighs. He lifts his hips slightly, groaning at the delicious feeling of his tip rubbing against his pants. You take that as a sign to continue, moving your hands further up to the waistband.

“No,” he says calmly before you can pull it down.

“Why not?” You don’t pull away your hands this time. “You’re hard. Why won’t you let me–”

“Look.” He leans down to tilt your chin up with his thumb and index finger. “I get that you’re a needy whore and seeing my cock instinctively makes you want to suck it, I really do, baby,” he scoffs, condescension dripping from his words. “But I honestly thought you’d be able to follow a simple instruction even dogs can understand.”

A sharp inhale catches in your throat and your eyes widen at his demeaning words. Your gaze locked onto his, you can feel a surge of frustration coursing through your veins, tinged with a spark of defiance. You swallow hard, trying to keep your composure.

Nathan tilts his head, studying your expression, your reaction. You could have slapped him by now, stormed off, told him to go fuck himself—anything. But no, you’re still kneeling between his legs, lust and determination evident in your eyes.

“Let’s try this again, hm?” His thumb gently traces your bottom lip. The sensation sends a wave of ecstasy through your body and it takes all of your self-control not to start sucking on his finger. He can read in your eyes what you’re thinking, so he repeats the motion with your upper lip just to test your resolve.

The way you squirm under his touch is mesmerizing and oh so gratifying.

“Sit on the floor.”

He releases his hold on your chin, reclines into the couch, grabs another beer from the side table, and redirects his attention back to the TV.

You decide to crawl out from between his legs, ensuring he gets a tantalizing view of your shapely ass in those snug yoga shorts. Leaning against the couch with a deep sigh, you position yourself next to his leg. You glance up at him, searching for a sign that he’s happy with your obedience—and also very much hoping for a reward that involves him fucking your brains out again.

It’s not as if you don’t deserve it for enduring his grandiose monologues and drunken crying sessions every other night. Besides, you’re hot, and he should be so lucky…

To your frustration, though, he’s ignoring you again, absentmindedly tapping the beer bottle with his index finger as his eyes stay focused on the movie. He can feel your annoyance, your anger, and it’s almost enough to get his softening cock hard again.

You sit in silence for a minute before quietly scooting closer and gently leaning against Nathan’s leg. Feeling him, even through fabric, is enough to embolden you to go further. You look up at him, trying to be sneaky. He doesn’t look at you. His eyes are fixated on the TV, one hand cradling his beer, the other casually draped over the backrest.

You’re not giving up that easily. Your pussy won’t let you. Just one little touch, and you’re convinced you can get him in the mood. Just one little touch, and he won’t be able to resist you. Just one little–

“I’m not going to fuck you.”

“Then why the fuck am I down here?”

“Because I want you to be.”

“Oh, wow,” you scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. “And now what? You think I’m just gonna sit here and watch you get drunk?”

He ignores your pouting.

“I got better stuff to do, you know.”

He turns up the volume of the TV.

“This is so dumb, Nathan. Why do you want me to sit here if you’re just gonna ignore me?”

“You like it when I tell you what to do,” he says calmly.

You’re taken aback by his statement and furrow your brow. “Well, yeah…but this isn’t…I–”

He looks down at you, effectively shutting you up.

It’s absolutely amazing how he can watch in real time as the defiant fire in your eyes fizzles out. The small, self-satisfied smile creeping across his arrogant face stings.

He’s such a cocky bastard.

You huff agitatedly, cross your arms in front of your chest, demonstratively turn away from him, and kick your legs out from under you. Nathan, on the other hand, relaxes in his seat. He’s thoroughly enjoying your little show, and your pouting doesn’t bother him. Not as long as you’re doing what you’re told.

After a few minutes of listening to the blood rushing in your ears and the occasional gulping sound coming from Nathan working on his beer, you can’t hold it back any longer.

“I’m not just gonna stay down here,” you hiss at him.

“Yes, you are.”

Unbelievable.

You stare at him incredulously. “And what makes you so sure of that, huh? I could just walk away and leave you here to sulk. I don’t need this, okay? And you–you can’t just–”

Nathan says your name sharply. “Stop your whining. You’re sitting on the floor because I told you to. That’s it.”

He looks at you, his eyebrow arched, daring you to defy him.

“That’s it?” you repeat, your eyes narrowed.

Nathan smirks and turns towards the TV again, slowly sipping his beer.

“Yup. That’s it.”

You glower at him, and, for a brief moment, he half-expects you to finally get up and storm out in frustration. He wouldn’t mind, really. But there seems to be a subtle shift within you, and after a few tense seconds, you release a long, aggravated breath. Turning away from him, you cross your arms with annoyance, and firmly plant your back against the couch.

Nathan keeps an eye on you, observing how your tense posture relaxes and how you make yourself comfortable after a few more minutes of sitting at his feet.

It’s an image he wants to savor.

You’ve been good for some time now, doing what he told you to do, submitting to him nicely. He decides to reward your obedience, reaching out to pet the back of your head. You’re startled and your body stiffens at his touch, but he can feel you relax more and more with each gentle stroke of his palm up and down the nape of your neck. He gives you a soothing massage, soft scratches, allows you to lean into his touch.

He’s stroking you for some time, relishing the feeling of dominance, of control, until a quiet moan escapes your lips.

Nathan smiles to himself and tightens his grip on your neck for a few seconds, intensifying the sensation. You sigh in pleasure and close your eyes, getting lost in his forceful touch. He then loosens his grip, and you release a contented sigh as you rest your head against his leg. He lets you, gently scratching your scalp, your soft moans music to his ears.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs. “It’s so much better when you do what I say, hm?”

You lift your head to meet his gaze, your brow furrowed.

Seeing you look up at him with those pretty, lust-filled eyes of yours is enough to get his cock hard again.

“You can just do what you’re told,” he says, his fingers gently tracing your neck. “You don’t have to think, or ask questions. You can just let yourself fall and give up control.”

Your eyes widen, and he caresses your cheek.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” he asks. “Giving up control. Being able to turn your brain off. Not having to think for yourself, not having to make decisions.”

You don’t respond, mesmerized by his dark eyes and calm voice. There’s a hint of surprise in your expression, but that doesn’t surprise him. You’ve been suppressing your desire for submission for a long time, and now, he’s presenting you with the chance to finally embrace it.

“If I want you to sit on the floor because that’s where I feel you belong, you don’t ask why. You just do it,” he says, running his thumb over your lips again. “Right?”

You nod slowly and press your thighs together with a little whine. Your panties are drenched and it physically hurts you how empty you feel.

“Very good,” Nathan murmurs, pressing his thumb against your lips, and giving you a quick nod when you look at him questioningly. You open your mouth for him to slide his finger inside, your eyes going even wider at the sensation.

Nathan’s cock twitches at your total submission.

He gently thrusts his thumb in and out of your mouth, sliding it along your warm tongue. You suck and lick it seductively, eyes half-closed as you hum around the digit, swirling your tongue around it as if to show him what his cock is missing.

He sucks in a sharp breath and takes his thumb back out of your mouth, pulling down your bottom lip slowly before bringing his face close to yours.

You half-expect him to kiss you, but instead he murmurs, “Clothes off, hands on your thighs.”

He watches contentedly as your eyes light up, and you eagerly follow his orders, pulling your shirt over your head, unclasping your bra, pulling down your shorts and panties in one swift motion.

“Kneel over there,” he says, directing you to a spot away from the couch.

He gets up and pulls down his sweatpants, letting them fall onto the floor. You stare at his cock with need, awe, and a tinge of fear—your holes were sore for days after your last encounter. He smiles to himself, crossing the distance between you two, and positioning himself in front of you.

You’re sitting back on your heels, thighs spread, your hands firmly placed on them, your glistening pussy on display. There’s a smooth arch in your back and your head is tilted upwards as you wait for further instructions.

Nathan looks down at you, his eyes scanning your naked body, spits in his hand and starts stroking his cock. He groans at the delicious feeling of finally getting some relief. He hasn’t jerked off all day, despite watching the tape of you fucking yourself after he got up this morning. And after lunch. And again this afternoon.

To say he’s pent up would be an understatement.

“That’s it,” he moans, wasting no time to tease himself. His right hand sets a steady pace, sliding up and down his length with honed efficiency.

“I’m gonna come all over your pretty face, baby. And you’re gonna take it like a good girl, aren’t you?”

The thought of it, of Nathan marking you that way, dirty and wrong and everything you’re not supposed to desire, it sends a surge of heat through your body, settling in your clit with a throb.

You whimper an unintelligible response, your eyes fixated on his hand moving in practiced motions around his thick cock. Nathan chuckles above you, and you manage to tear your eyes away from his cock to catch the look of dark amusement on his face.

“You gotta speak up, baby. Or are you too cock-drunk to use your words already?”

You swallow hard and dig your nails into the flesh of your thighs. “Y-yes,” you manage to choke out. Your face burns with humiliation, intensifying your desperation as you plead, “Please come on my face, Nathan. I want you to mark me. Please give me your cum. Please.”

Shocked at your unexpectedly bold words, Nathan’s hand momentarily falters in its movement, before picking up again with increased speed.

A strangled groan bubbles out of his throat, followed by your name and a swipe of his thumb over the tip of his cock. His dark eyes meet yours for a split second, looking down at you as you’re patiently waiting for your reward with an opened mouth.

You writhe and squirm at the sound of Nathan’s groans and the intense sight of him pleasuring himself. You’ve never seen anything hotter. You want to touch yourself, to rub your clit or slip your fingers into your wet core—to finally get some release—but you resist the urge, clenching your hands into fists.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come, baby,” Nathan pants, his words coming ragged and tight. He’s so close.

You look up into his lidded eyes and whisper, “Please.”

“You want that, huh? Oh fuck. Such a filthy little cumslut.”

You moan at his words and feel your walls clench in desperation. Your arousal is dripping out of your pussy onto the floor below, an obscene sight that confirms what Nathan already knew.

You’re loving this.

Nathan’s hand is jerking his leaking cock, fast and firm, as he races toward his orgasm. He’s all you can see, all you can hear, all you can feel—the wet squelching sound of his hand around his slick cock, his grunts and moans, the mumbled curses, the heat radiating off his imposing body.

You see him twitch in his hand and your swollen clit pulsates in response. He increases the speed of his hand and reaches to fondle his balls with his left hand. It takes a harsh squeeze and a “Holy shit, fuck!” before he’s coming with a long, low moan.

Your eyes shut instinctively but you don’t flinch as you can feel it hitting your face and tits in hot, wet spurts. You stay still, like the good girl that you are, moaning as another thick rope of Nathan’s cum lands across your lips, dripping into your mouth, salty and bitter on your tongue.

You don’t get to see his face as he comes, but the explicit sounds that reach your ears are enough to make you twitch and moan in pleasure, expanding the puddle beneath you.

Nathan strokes himself through his orgasm until his balls are empty and he’s milked every last drop out of his cock and onto your face—until he’s painted you with it, until he’s marked you as his.

“Goddamnit.”

Spent, he lets go of his pulsating cock, putting his hands on his hips, taking a step back to take a good, long look at his work of art.

Your face is painted white with cum, spread all over your cheeks, chin, and dripping down to your tits. You put on a little show, gathering up the drops with your finger and sensually putting them on your tongue while keeping unwavering eye contact.

“You can swallow,” Nathan says, pleased with your conduct.

You do as he says, happily adding some more cum from your lips, and swallowing it all down with a blissed-out smile.

“Thank you, Sir,” you coo.

“Such a filthy little thing, aren’t you?” he murmurs, stepping closer. He bends down, grabs the back of your neck forcefully, and tilts your head up.

“Open your mouth, slut. Tongue out.”

You open wide, sticking your tongue out for him to see. He leans in to let a big glob of his spit fall directly into your open mouth. He hums in satisfaction as he watches you swallow it eagerly, and then he finally kisses you, dirty and messy, tasting himself on your tongue. You moan into his mouth, bucking your hips, desperate for him to finally touch your neglected pussy.

“Good girl,” he whispers against your lips, making you moan. “Now, go get cleaned up.”

Oh no, he wouldn’t.

You stare at him with wide eyes. “But I–”

“Go. Get. Cleaned. Up.”

“But I haven’t…what about me?” you stammer, your voice trembling.

“What about you?” he responds with a raised eyebrow, a sadistic glint in his eyes.

Your face falls and his cock pulsates at your expression. You look like you’re close to crying, your thighs pressed together to alleviate your aching clit, your nails painfully digging into your palms. You’re shaking with anger and frustration.

Nathan’s never been as turned on as he is from seeing you suffer—you’re just so pretty when you’re denied.

He can already picture himself playing with every part of you for hours on end, denying you over and over again until your body is ablaze with burning anticipation. And then, once he’s finally reduced you to a brainless, overstimulated mess, he’ll wrap his hand around your throat and make you take him until you beg him to stop.

But that’s for another day.

“Smile, baby,” he smirks, tapping your cum-stained cheek and straightening up to get himself another beer from the kitchen. “You’re on camera.”

– – –

Thank you for reading! 🤍

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