#kaia writes tashi

[kisses4kaia]

phone sex with tash.. yeah…… (ps. dedicated to my fav ever @hvneybuckin love you aiden💕)

you knew from the moment she breathed “hey, baby.”

your eyebrows furrowed, but you stayed quiet. “hi, tash. how ‘s your day?” she hummed. “fine, i wish i could have seen you, though. practice was as practice always is. art asked about you?” there was a sigh—slight, sultry, and quiet—but you caught it.

“yeah? how is he?” you sit back onto your bed, clicking your bedside lamp off and crossing your free arm over your sweater-clothed chest. “he’s okay. he and patrick have been arguing for a little bit, though.” you nodded to yourself, although tashi couldn’t see you. “they’ll get over it. they’re best friends, they always do,”

you seem to be able to sense her agreement through the phone, and you tell her a little bit about your day.

“and you know, it was so funny. i saw a poster of you in the hallway—from the adidas campaign, you remember—and i was just thinking ‘i need her inside of me.’ which, of course, is preposterous considering… you know—“

“don’t be so naïve. i’ve been inside of you, you know that.” you’re so grateful you decided to give her a phone call tonight rather than a facetime because your eyes are wide and your cheeks burn at the memory of tashi fucking her strap into you. “i do…” your voice is much higher than you would’ve wished, but it made tashi chuckle on the other end of the line.

at this point, your hand was already snaking down your torso, teasing the hem of your boy shorts. “you want me inside of you, do you?” she goads, and you can feel the humiliation setting in. “mhm,” you squeak meekly, and she sighs. “well, it’s too bad i’m not there to help you.” tashi speaks the words like it’s hopeless and impossible and you whine, fingers beginning to push past the elastic of your shorts. “n-no, i can… imagine,” your pitchy whine pulls a groan from your lady. “imagine? good girl, baby. such a problem solver,”

the praise sets your core ablaze and your pointer and middle finger lazily begin to circle around your clit, sliding up and down your slick slit. “do you remember the last time i touched you?” she pinged, voice ringing with a sort of early satisfaction, like this was her goal from the very start.

“n-no… not really. sorry, tashi,”

you absolutely remembered, in vivid detail how and where she touched you last, but you could do with the inflection of her voice upon reminiscing with you. “oh? do you need me to refresh your memory?”

you whined, nodding before remembering that she couldn’t see you. “mhm, please.”

she hummed. “well, i fucked you with my tongue first, you remember that?” you whined, growing more and more slick against your fingers as she spoke. “and then i had you suck on my cock, had you wrap your pretty little tongue around my dick—got it all fucking nice and wet and messy, didn’t you?” her tone was spitting, making you moan so fucking pathetically, she laughed.

“yeah, then i bent you over your shiny little vanity in your daddy paid for, made you watch your pretty face as i sunk deep, deep into you, remember? remember how many times i made you cum around this cock? you were fucking dripping onto the hardwood by the end of it, you little cockslut. all for me, right?”

“yes,” your fingers were pumping in and out of you so fast, the sounds were audible to tashi on the other end of the call. “yes, what?” her voice was mean, demanding, and nearly tear-jerking.

“yes, daddy,” the sex in your voice drew a deep groan from tashi, and it pushed you over the edge. “ngh—fuck! i’m coming, please, please please please, i need it—!” you didn’t know if you were talking to yourself or to her but her never-ending praise into your ear through the phone speaker kept you in convulsions.

coming down from your high, you drew your fingers out from your panties and thanked tashi, all before bidding her goodnight and virtual x’s and o’s.

1 Video Attachment from tashi🤍

the notification was unexpected, as you had just ended the call, but you decided to tap on it anyway.

your mouth went fucking dry as you watched tashi’s golden-complexioned hand stroke up and down the same, big, deep blue, strap-on she’d fucked you with last time she was in town. the video ended with a flash up to her face, coy smile playing on her lips.

tashi🤍

You’re the best girl for me. Love you baby❤️

[kisses4kaia]

In your blurb about teaching art how to give head you wrote “[Patrick] wanted to push [Art] onto his chest and make him sob, let you watch, if you wanted” - any chance you would write that scene 👀 it sounds soo hot

was waiting for this one. and, why yes there is😁!!

(unprotected penetrative sex (m receiving), voyeurism, switch!art, switch!patrick. mega unproofread😴. MDNI.)

“are—are you serious?” art’s wide eyes flick over to his best friend’s matching nerve-wracked ones at your request. “as cancer,” you lean back, taking a drag of your cigarette through a mischievous grin.

patrick can feel the tension rising, and can’t help but chuckle nervously. “well… i mean—“

“i’m down.” art’s a little shocked at himself, the surety in his voice, but he lets his words simmer. somehow, you smile even wider, and patrick studies art’s face then yours, briefly flicking to the woman in the chair’s, secretly thinking this was a plot you guys to kid him.

he’s still skeptical even after you’ve gotten up and pulled art along with you, cigarette hanging from your lips. his cynicism is only soothed when you sit art down on his knees on the bed, sitting back on his heels and awaiting further instructions.

and tashi, she’s remained silent during this whole ordeal, leaning back on her chair in the corner of the room. the glare in her eyes, the one that’s catching every movement of every atom, lets patrick know that this may have very well been her own idea.

“you’re okay with this?” patrick asks art, approaching the bed and kneeling parallel to him. the question was already answered, but he needed to know he wasn’t dreaming of this… again. “yeah. are—are you?”

“yes! i mean, uh, yeah,” patrick flushes at his reply. too quick, he thinks. i must sound so stupid right now.

art just smiles smally, glancing over to you, whose now sitting atop tashi’s lap, back pressed to her chest with her arm wrapped around your waist. you’re both watching so tentatively, it makes shivers jolt through art’s vertebrae. you burn your cig out on the arm of the chair, prompting them to begin.

unsurely, art leans forward and presses his lips to patrick’s. the kiss begins slow, hesitant, but desire builds up quickly enough and it has them pushing tongue down the other’s throat and the kisses soon turn to open-mouthed smacking all over cheekbones, jaws, and necks. clothes shed, and hands find skin.

they seem to forget they’re two different entities as they begin to grow more and more greedy with what they can grab and keep of the warm body attached to them. the way patrick growls before pushing art onto his back pulls a curious, yet pleased hum out of you, and tashi presses a kiss to your shoulder.

it’s all a blur after art is flipped over onto his chest, patrick’s saliva dribbling disgustingly onto the blonde boy’s tight hole. the prep has art arching his back and whining, eliciting ‘shh’s and praises and kisses to his shoulder blade from the boy above him.

and when he finally sinks himself into the warm embrace of art’s tightness, patrick shudders and you can see the muscles in his back tense. he’s trying to hold himself back, you know, for the sake of art.

it’s nearly a minute before art whimpers out a ‘keep going’, and patrick can finally build up his pace.

it was so filthy. the way patrick’s arm snaked around art’s hips to tug on his cock in intervals, bringing him to the very brink of his orgasm before retracting it all and slowing the roll of his hips, all before speeding it up to the tens once more.

you learned very quickly that art was much more vocal with patrick than with you. not in volume—no, he was always loud—but in his words.

“c’mon, faster.” “you can go harder than that, i won’t break.” “you’re such a fucking dick, you know that?” “don’t give it to me nice, trick. you know how i like it.”

so many phrases he wouldn’t ever dare to utter when you’re so graciously pleasing him. he takes all you give him and makes no selfish request or protest to what he is gifted. tashi makes the same note, you can tell, because she tenses her thighs at every crass comment art throws at patrick.

he’s so close, everybody in the room knows it. patrick’s voice always raises in an octave or two when he’s about to start begging, and you’ve all had enough practice with him to know the rest of his tells. “where do you want it?” patrick just barely whispers into art’s ear, and you catch half of his signature toothy grin. “inside.”

“oh, g-od—!“ patrick voice breaks as he cums nearly immediately after the word is uttered, and tashi smiles against your skin. he’s still in a haze as he absentmindedly wraps his hands around art’s cock once more and drives him to a summit of euphoria, squirming as his tip weeped out pulses of white, hot, sticky, spend.

patrick regrettably must pull out now, and as he falls down next to art, breathless and dopey, you begin to clap.

it’s slow, at first, and then tashi joins in with hollers and laughs.

“that was incredible. thank you, boys. do you suppose it’s now our turn?” tashi knows what the answer will be, and her assumptions are proved correct at the pleads art and patrick meet her with.

[kisses4kaia]

he shouldn’t like it this much.

that’s all patrick is thinking as art’s warm, unsure mouth works its way onto his painfully hard cock. your voice coos in art’s reddened ear, manicured hand tugging and swirling his blonde curls. you’re guiding him, teaching him how to open up his throat and take all 8 inches of patrick.

art’s tongue slides over patrick’s weeping tip, causing the brunette to squirm and nearly growl. you see patrick’s hand twitch on the chair’s wooden arm, and he hears you ask something out of earshot to the blonde boy. he’s hesitant for a moment before he nods, letting you peel patrick’s calloused hand off of the arm and place in on art’s head. naturally—instinctively—patrick’s hand twists and pulls on the golden tresses.

“go ahead and lick from the base to the top, yeah, good. he likes that, angel,” you’re scratching the nape of art’s neck with one hand and patrick’s muscly thigh with the other, both parties being grateful for the extra stimulation.

he shouldn’t like it this much. he shouldn’t be this close to cumming. this is wrong, and he knows it. he has tashi and you have art and this is all wrong; but the taboo of it all just makes him hotter and hotter hotter—and now he’s cumming down arts throat without warning.

he doesn’t even realize how far and hard he’s slammed his friends head down onto him, choked gasps and pleads weaving with his squirming thighs and your nipping on his chest and neck. patrick only realizes what he’s done when his best friend looks prettier than he’s ever looked with tears in his eyes and his cum dribbling from his pink lips. he wanted to push him onto his chest and make him sob, let you watch, if you wanted—tashi, too.

he shook the thoughts away as he wiped the spend from art’s lip and stuck it into his own mouth, making eye contact with you.

and when it’s all over, your praises don’t ever end, only after you’ve all bathed and patrick’s been dropped off back home to an unsuspecting tashi and art falls asleep on your chest do you let your voice go out.

you think you’ll invite your favorite brunette lady next time, for you felt rather lonely with your two boys.