#wooden wisdom
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https://x.com/ElChurro27/status/1705847082677141723?s=20
#he looks so excited. forget dream blunt rotation dream dance circle me elijah wood and 3 other lesbians#elijah posting#elijah wood#wooden wisdom#zach cowie#mtg las vegas#enya#my post
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Still not over this 😭 this show was basically a family event where everyone got to take the stage . Elijah's son was on the stage for a while, and then his daughter was brought on stage by Zach . Elijah's daddy and Dj duties were a very fun and enjoyable to watch .
Credits to the owners on Instagram ikeike55jump
#elijah wood#primavera sound madrid 2023#primevara dj set 2023#dj fitz#zach cowie#wooden wisdom#dj duties 2023
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Last chance to post this before people stop caring about Wisdom saga ODY AND ATHENA FRIENDSHIP MEAN SM TO ME YOU DONT GET IT
#He later uses this same carpentry skills to carve the odypen wedding bed 🥹#I first saw this wooden owl gift Odysseus gave Athena in a We’ll be Fine animatic#Has not left my mind ever since#I wonder why the kid hesitated saying “mentorship#JUST ADMIT YOU LIKE THE BOY ATHENA HES INTERNALLY HOLDING BACK BE HE KNOWS YOU DONT LIKE ADMITTING FEELINGS#epic the musical#epic athena#epic the wisdom saga#fanart#epic odysseus#jorge rivera herrans#epic the musical fanart#artists on tumblr
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I like how everyone has been reacting to Echoes Of Wisdom in the normal person way, which is gushing about playing as Zelda, meanwhile I am just buzzing in my seat over the Deku Scrubs being back and it being confirmed now that there are 2 types of Zoras 💀
#My OOT loving ass jumping around in the corner jdvdjsbhsbs#Oh funny wooden pop it people- How I’ve missed you#Zelda#Tloz#zelda fandom#tloz fandom#the legend of zelda#tloz echoes of wisdom#echoes of wisdom#Zelda echoes of wisdom
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Zelda this, Zelda that-
DEKUS
DEKUS ARE BACK
THE SILLIES
AAAAAAAAAAAAA
#legend of zelda#echoes of wisdom#loz eow#the silly lil guys#or at least the helicopter hat guy from màjoras mask lol#I liked Dekus a lot ok. Wanna pinch their wooden lil faces#all of them
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i am the hot girl with teeth box in her room hello welcome and hope you enjoy your stay. leave your teeth as an offering if you love me.
#i have a little wooden box that i keep all my teeth in and by that i mean yes mine but also my sisters and my friends teeth...#i still have my wisdom teeth but i hope i get to keep them when i finally get them taken out#anyway... sigh.... i am so interested in how jeonghans milk teeth looked like my canines were INSANE and i mean it like root#3 times bigger than the teeth looks like a mammoth's tusk#tt
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The Wooden Sword
A Jewish folktale that has had many well made children's stories made. I hear It was born in the Jewish Communities of Afghanistan, but I'm not 100% clear on that. The story typically follows the Afghan King who suffers from insomnia and decides to go out into the kingdom and see how his people live. When he sees the poorest people living happily, he has a hard time understanding how they can be so happy without financial security. They, the Jewish family, claim they are sure God will help them find a way no matter what. So the king decides to challenge that by making earning money harder and harder for the Jewish family, only for them to impress him with their resilience and wit.
I found this version of the story from a religious education website. There are cues where audience interaction is encouraged from the children they are sharing this story with. Since I'm not presenting in such a way, I'll go a head and edit these ques out.
The Wooden Sword
Once, on a summer night in the country Afghanistan, the ruler Shah Abbis changed out of his fancy robes and left his palace dressed as a peasant to enjoy the evening air and to wander through the streets unnoticed. He walked and walked until he reached the poorest section at the edge of the town. He soon heard joyful singing coming from a dimly lit cottage. As he peered in the window he saw a man sitting at a table. He was eating and singing and giving thanks to God. The shah was astonished to see such a poor man in such good spirits and so he asked if he might come in as a guest.
After accepting food and drink the shah asked the man how he earned his living. "I am a poor Jew," he said. "I wander the streets and fix shoes, and in this way I earn enough money to buy all the food I need for one day."
"But what will happen to you when you are too old to work?" asked the shah.
"Oh, I do not have to worry about that," the man said happily. "God blesses me day by day, and I know that somehow there will always be enough."
The shah returned to his palace and took off his peasant disguise. He was determined to test the faith of this man. The next day he proclaimed: "No one is allowed to fix shoes for pay!"
When the Jew went to work, he was astonished to learn of the new law. "What is he going to do if he can't fix shoes and earn money?"
Here's what he did. He lifted his eyes to heaven and he prayed, "God, the Shah has made it against the law for me to fix shoes. But I know you will help me to find a new job." He looked around and saw some people carrying water. He decided that he too would become a water carrier.
The Jew carried water to and from the town well and sold it to people, for the rest of the day. And in that way he earned just enough money to buy food for one day.
The shah again disguised himself and returned to the man's house. He was very surprised to find the man again singing joyfully and eating. "How are you?" he asked upon entering. "I heard of the law and had to see how you had survived the day."
"God did not abandon me today," the Jew answered happily. "The shah closed one door, but God opened another to take its place. I am now a water carrier."
The shah took his leave again. He issued another proclamation: no one was to carry water for pay. Again the Jew wondered how he could earn money if it was against the law to carry water. But again he prayed and this time he saw that men were going into the forest to cut trees to sell for firewood. So he decided to cut trees and sell firewood also, and that's just what he did. And in that way he earned just enough money to buy food for one day."
Again the shah came in disguise and learned of the man's continued faith and good fortune. The next day, he issued a command that his soldiers stop all the woodcutters coming from the forests and bring them to the palace to work. He dressed them all as guards and gave them swords. He told them that they would not be paid until the end of the month.
The Jew was perplexed indeed, for he had no money for dinner that evening, and it would certainly be difficult to wait a whole month for his pay. But he trusted God. So he prayed and he prayed for an answer to his problem. How would he be able to buy food tomorrow, if he wouldn't be paid for a full month?
On the way home from the palace, while examining his sword and sheath, the Jew had a clever idea. He would make a sword out of wood, the same size as the shah's metal sword that would look just like it. Then he could sell the shah's sword. So he made a wooden sword and sold the real one and he had just enough money for food for a month!
The shah, in his peasant disguise again, was much surprised to find the Jew singing and eating that night. When he heard the Jew's story about the sword, he asked him, "What will you do if the shah finds out what you have done?"
"Oh, I do not worry about such things," the Jew replied. "Every day my life is filled with blessings from God. I know that somehow everything will come out all right."
The next day the shah ordered all the guards to report to the center of the city where there was to be an execution of a man who had stolen from the royal palace. All the guards came, including the ones who used to be woodcutters, and including the Jew. All the townspeople came to see.
The shah ordered his officer to call the Jew to come forth to cut off the man's head. "Do not ask this of me," the Jew cried. "I have never even killed a fly." The officer said that it was the order of the shah and he must obey or risk his own life.
The Jew asked for a few minutes to pray to God. Then he stood up in front of all of the townspeople and said out loud, "God, you know that I have never killed anyone in my whole life. Please, God, if this man is guilty, let my sword be so sharp as to kill him in a single blow. But if he is not guilty, let my sword turn to wood, as a sign of his innocence."
With all eyes on him, the Jew reached for his sword. He pulled it out of its sheath, and held it high. The crowd gasped, then clapped and cheered when they saw the wooden sword, for they thought a miracle had taken place.
The shah was delighted when he saw the wisdom of the Jew. He called him near. He told him that he had been the visitor those four preceding nights. "And now," he said, "I hope that you will come and stay with me in my palace and be my advisor, for I see that you are a man of wisdom and unwavering faith, and I have much to learn from you."
So the Jew went to live in the palace with the shah. If you went by there in the evenings, you would hear them singing.
#folklore#folktale#jewish#wooden sword#food and folklore#fairytale#jewish folklore#middle east#klickwitch#happy ending#wisdom#life lessons
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Quick Words of Wisdom
3 Thoughts. 30 Seconds. 1… Understanding God is like a toddler looking at a periodic table. Way beyond us! 2… Sin is like a big sneeze. It really feels good but it leaves you with lots of snot. 3… and Words from Coach John Wooden At times when I am felling low I hear from a friend and thenMy worries go away And I am on the mend In spite of all the doctors know And their studies never endThe…
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It's what you learn ~ @WoodensWisdom
It’s what you learn .
life, learning, life quotes, wisdom, wisdom quotes, learning quotes, knowledge, knowledge quotes, John Wooden quotes, John Wooden #PICTUREQUOTES, #QUOTES
#life#learning#life quotes#wisdom#wisdom quotes#learning quotes#knowledge#knowledge quotes#John Wooden quotes#John Wooden#PICTURE QUOTES#QUOTES
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It's the little details that are vital. Little things make big things happen.
John Wooden
#John Wooden#Wisdom#quotes#life#love#important#tumblr#instagood#aesthetic#girl#literature#sad quotes#sad poem#zitate
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yeah guys last night was great and all but we could have been at the magic the gathering convention where elijah wood of the dj duo wooden wisdom played enya. that could have been us
https://x.com/toriofthevast/status/1705831042257739815?s=20
#literally checked his mentions in the middle of the party last night and got so intensely jealous of all those fuck ass nerds (affectionate)#elijah wood#elijah posting#mtg las vegas#enya#zach cowie#wooden wisdom#my post
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Credits to carcarlo22 on Instagram
Fan meeting after the show at Barcelona primavera sound when Elijah and family were in the line to get burgers 😍
#elijah wood#primavera sound wooden wisdom 2023 barcelona#wooden wisdom primavera 2023#wooden wisdom#woodenwisdom djfitz#dj elijah#elijah wood zach cowie wooden wisdom
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Why Apollo actually didn't have beef with Odysseus (spoiler for the Wisdom Saga)
Heads up, fellas: The rambling below contains spoiler for Epic the Wisdom Saga!
As we may know, in God Games, Athena needed to convince half of the Olympian council to approve Odysseus' release from Calypso's island. Apollo is the first god Athena encountered and the easiest for her to convince.
Now, why is that? Why does Apollo's beef with Odysseus seem way too easy to rebuke? He barely has any connection with the Sirens aside from the catchy songs, so why did he use them to "accuse" Odysseus (heavy on the quote-unquote because he barely even tried) and not the sacking of Troy, the murder of Astyanax, or the violation of the cows?
Here's my theory: Apollo has no real grudges against Odysseus. Apollo has every reason to be mad with the mentioned instances, but he is also the god of reason and rationality and knows there is no point in being angry.
First, as far as I know, Odysseus had not directly offended Apollo in the Trojan War or during his journey home. Apollo won't just harm anyone, he'd only take retribution against those who disrespected him greatly.
Second, the City of Troy had always been destined to fall so if it wasn't for Odysseus' wooden horse, someone else would have caused its demise. Apollo can't fault Odysseus for being part of the city's inevitable destiny.
Third, Apollo should be mad at Odysseus for killing an infant because he's the protector of the young, right? Well, in The Horse and The Infant, it was Zeus who told Odysseus that Astyanax was prophesied to take revenge on the Greek kings when he grew up, and he had to kill the infant to prevent that. Apollo is not one to go against his father's decree, so he wouldn't be mad at Odysseus for following suit.
(And if you look from a mythological standpoint, if Astyanax actually grew up to cause destruction to the Trojan War survivors, imagine how many sons and daughters of the Greek kings would suffer because the prophesied one was spared.)
Finally, why was he not mad with the cow thing??? Simple!
The cows were not even Apollo's, but Helios'. Apollo already gave his cows to Hermes in exchange for the lyre. So when Odysseus' crew killed the cows, they offended Helios, not Apollo. Of course, you could say Apollo should be mad on Helios' behalf, but that'll take us to point 2...
The crew killed the cows while Odysseus begged them to not. Odysseus didn't commit the crime or enable it, so he was in the clear. And lastly...
Odysseus' crew were already punished by death and Odysseus was left drifting in the sea and stuck on Calypso's island for seven years to the point of driven insane, so whatever "association" he could possibly have with the violation of the cows should be paid enough.
All that aside, Apollo has little to no beef with Odysseus and only makes up a flimsy "reason" to be mad out of obligation. He didn't care about bringing justice to Athena's favorite mortal, he probably only wanted to have fun in the family drama because hey, how often do you get to see your oldest sister asking for a favor from your King-god father?
#apollo#athena#odysseus#the sirens#astyanax#helios#zeus#trojan war#epic the musical#epic the wisdom saga#epic the wisdom saga spoiler#god games#spoiler alert#my ramblings#The Pen explodes with ink#long post
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Mae was used to following orders, particularly from men, almost instinctively (the half-wolf creature in front of her appeared to be somewhat male, and his voice was vaguely familiar), so she tamed her screaming down to shrieking, down to half-angry (maybe if she acted aggressive, this thing would go away), half-frightened sound effects, and finally swallowed all her emotions down with an audible gulp.
"Ohhhh god, I think I'm going to pass out," She placed her right hand on her chest, hoping it would slow her rapid heartbeat, while her left hand reached out for the wooden column that she staggered towards. She tried not to consider that if she did faint, she would most likely fall against the column. "I haven't felt like this since..."
The vivid memories came flooding back to her. The last time she had felt like this she had been standing on her back porch, same as she was now, except back then she was terrified of the several dozen prisoners of hell moving slowly towards her, lead by Satan himself. When realisation dawned on Mae, she could have laughed.
"Of course. You're not really here, are you? Just a figment of my imagination. But I was getting better!"
The statement combined with the stomp of her foot probably seemed a bit childish, but she had more important things on her mind than appearances.
"Why are you here?! I've made some huge mistakes, all of which I've owned up to, and more or less made up for. I have no reason to experience guilt-fuelled hallucinations. Unless you really are from Hell, in which case... well, if you'd come a week ago, I wouldn't have had any complaints, but now? Now that everything's back to normal, better than normal... am I going to die?"
Mae couldn't help it. She didn't want to display her fear and weakness to a prisoner that she would soon be living amongst, but no matter how hard she pressed her trembling lips together or tried to breathe deeply, she couldn't stop herself from whimpering. She gripped the wooden column; if worse came to worse, she could cling to it as the creature tried to drag her away. While being no longer under the influence meant Mae would lack the physical strength "the stuff" had given her, perhaps the adrenaline from this type of situation would come to her rescue. It had happened before.
OPEN.
“plea-please don’t scream.” while he tries to be a little less intimidating, that is much easier said than done on a full moon. he is something between a wolf and a man, standing closer to seven feet, with sharp teeth and claws to tie it all together. though, at the moment, he’s crouched down about as low as he can get. maybe that will make him a little less scary. maybe.
#i probably should have checked you were alright with me reblogging this since your starter already had a thread going#but anyhoo#thinking about that scene in freaky friday but it's mae holding on to the wooden column for dear life#figuratively and literally#a madam runs a different kind of house (in character)#the truth about the wisdom we have learned (verse three)
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Playground Love
ೀ older!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader
Tags: hurt/comfort, age gap (unspecified but reader is an adult), a lot of self doubt, talks about mommy and daddy issues, pet names (angel, princess, sweetheart).
W/C: 1.0k
A/N: studying? who is that? Anyways, this was supposed to be a cute ‘sitting on his lap would fix me’ but I got hit by existential crisis at 2am so angst.
"Wow, dating an older guy? That's so sophisticated!"
“Are you sure about this? Don’t you think there’s a reason why no one his age is dating him?”
"You get to date someone older? That's not fair! All I get are immature guys my age."
"Darling, I know you're an adult now, but dating someone significantly older... it just worries me. Are you sure you're on the same page?"
I love him.
At every reaction, you find yourself repeating the same phrase in your mind. It was a simple truth that anchored you amidst the swirl of opinions and doubts. Every concern, every envy—you faced them all with the same unwavering declaration.
But do you really love him?
The question lingered like a shadow, casting doubt on the certainty you had clung to so desperately. You couldn't shake the nagging feeling that perhaps you were merely caught up in the allure of dating someone older, mistaking infatuation for love. Or was it that you longed for attention from an older guy who could fill the void your absent father left?
You craved the paternal presence you had been denied, and in him, you found echoes of the guidance and affection you had longed for.
"Dating someone older? Isn't that a bit... strange?"
"Why? Age is just a number, right?"
"Yeah, but... do you really think you're at the same stage in life?"
Oh, how naively optimistic you were.
Perhaps you have been too quick to dismiss your loved one’s concerns, too eager to embrace the illusion of love in the arms of someone—his arms—who offered the fleeting promise of stability and security.
“But he makes me feel loved and safe,”
“Does he?”
Was your love truly built to withstand the test of time, or was it merely a fleeting illusion, destined to crumble beneath the weight of your differences?
“Darling, can we talk for a moment?”
“Sure, Ma. What’s on your mind?”
"Well, I couldn't help but notice... you seem quite taken with this new guy you're seeing."
"Oh, you mean Leon? Yeah, we've been spending some time together."
"He's... older, isn't he?"
"Um, yeah, he is."
"I see... darling, I just want to make sure you're being careful. Dating someone older can bring its own set of challenges."
"I know, Ma. But he's different. He understands me in a way no one else does."
"I'm sure he does, dear…but promise me you'll take things slow and really get to know him before things get too serious."
"I promise, Mama.”
You've broken many promises with your mama, but why did this one hurt? Is it because you partially blame her for shaping you the way you are? Is it because she married your father? Maybe she would have lived a happier life if it weren't for him, if only.
But you thanked her, both her and him, for the lesson learned, for the wisdom imparted, for the love that had always been there, and for helping you recognise the kind of partner to avoid.
You stood before the polished wooden door of Leon’s home office, your hand hovering in uncertainty over the ornate doorknob. Each second felt like an eternity as you battled with the torrent of doubts and fears that raged within you.
You needed him, wanted him to hold you, and tell you that everything would be fine.
But what if he couldn’t understand your doubts? What if your confession shattered the fragile illusion of your love?
With a steady breath, you pushed aside your apprehensions and grasped the doorknob, steeling yourself for the conversation that lay ahead.
“What’s up, sweetheart?” His voice, gruff yet soft and reassuring, always managed to send shivers down your spine, freezing you in place. You couldn’t find the words to speak, and your throat suddenly dried.
Sensing your hesitation, he beckoned you closer with a gentle smile. You could see the experiences he went through, the complexities of adulthood etched into the lines that creased his weathered face.
“Come here, angel. Sit on my lap while I work.”
You obeyed, crossing the threshold into his office, your feet padding on the wooden floor as you made your way to him. Settling onto his lap, your linen dress pooled around you, the fabric soft against your skin. His arms encircled your waist, pulling you close, his rough touch sent warmth flooding through your veins.
You inhaled his scent, a mixture of citrus and wood, with a hint of something familiar: whisky. You thought he quit. Ready to question him, you opened your mouth, but he stopped you before you could question him.
“Don’t worry your pretty head, princess. I only drank a glass, I promised. I’m just a bit stressed.”
“Mm, okay,” you replied, pushing aside your concerns for the moment as you melted into the warmth of his embrace.
You found solace in the familiar embrace of Leon's arms, the weight of your doubts momentarily forgotten as you leaned into his chest, burying your face against him. A few of his buttons were undone, allowing the soft hairs on his chest to brush against your face.
"Is everything alright, angel?" Leon's voice, soft and concerned, pulled you back to the present moment.
"Yeah, everything's fine. I just want to stay like this, with you," you murmured, the words slipping out before you could second-guess yourself.
His arms tightened around you, drawing you closer, as if he could sense the hesitation in your voice. "Me too, princess. Me too," his stubble pricked your forehead as he murmured against them.
Oh, how weak you were. His voice and touch alone melted you into a puddle, and all your problems seemed to vanish in his embrace. Your mama wouldn’t be happy with how you turned out; she wished that you would never let a man make you weak like she was.
Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to sink deeper into his embrace, letting go of the weight of your doubts and worries. In this moment, all that mattered was the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against yours.
Perhaps one day, when the time was right, you would find the courage to open up to him about your inner struggles. Until then, you cherished this moment, clawing in the warmth of his love.
Pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, Leon whispered softly, "I love you, angel.”
“I love you, too, Leon, always,” you replied. The words were a vow of unwavering devotion and love…was it really?
All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does, and that is his.
- Oscar Wilde
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy angst#leon kennedy fluff#resident evil 6 leon#death island leon#infinite darkness leon#damnation leon#vendetta leon#dividers by fairytopea#✧˚ ༘ ⋆。 ˚
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Dr E. Munson, D.D.S
Description: praise from your dentist is the last thing you thought would stoke your passions. During another meeting, intoxicated after surgery, you accidently tell him how he makes you feel.
Warnings: Fluff, angst and smut, my favourite trio. NSFW Minors DNI, reader mid 20s and Eddie mid to late 30s but not explicitly stated, no real time given implied 90s but written as open, reader is AFAB, no use of Y/N, tooth extraction (don’t worry it's not gory), little to no knowledge of the dental industry (please don't come for me I tried my best), fem oral receiving, overstimulation, massive praise kink, p in v protected sex.
A/N: Well, the tale of my praise kink being activated at the dentist appears to have struck a chord with you all, so as unbelievable as this is, just go with it. Eddie's a dentist. Not just a dentist, but a soft pleasure dom dentist ;) I tried to make it believable!! Also, I can't write short fics anymore. I gotta get elaborate before I get into the good ole porn.
🖤 Comments and reblogs are my lifeblood, please reblog if you want me to keep writing, it really makes my day sweethearts. 🖤
8.8K words
Masterlist
Fidgeting restlessly with your rings, your leg shakes compulsively as you sit in the sterile waiting room. You really wish you didn't have to go through this alone, but your best friend Alex is working and you are far too old to be going to the dentist with your mom.
Needs must, though. Yesterday, whilst you were eating one of your nieces candy suckers of all things, you bit down and shattered a wisdom tooth. Just thinking about it you can see Dr Burke's stern face, with his ridiculously bushy eyebrows and wrinkled frown, telling you off for eating too much sugar.
When the perky receptionist calls your name and instructs you to go to room 2, you're a wobbling bubble of nerves. Walking over the cheap linoleum on click clack heels, you pause for a moment outside the door in confusion.
The little plaque on the wooden door is different. It used to hold old Dr Burke's name on it, but it's changed.
Dr E. Munson, D.D.S.
Swinging the door open, you see a much younger man sitting on a swivel stool looking over some notes. His hair is long and wavy, so long he's scraped it into a low ponytail, and there's a sprinkle of stubble over his face. As he looks up, you're met with the deepest, most soulful brown eyes you've ever seen. And is that, an eyebrow piercing? He flashes a grin, one filled with such mischief that for a second you forget why you're here.
“Well hello! You must be my next patient. Take a seat right here.”
He pats the treatment chair but you still stand gormlessly by the door.
“You're not Dr Burke.”
Well done idiot, state the obvious.
“Seems your eyesights OK.”
He shoots a wink at you which immediately turns your insides to jello.
“Dr Burke retired actually. I'm Dr Munson, I just moved to the city. You can call me Eddie.”
He extends a hand out to you. Shuffling forward in your pencil skirt you click your way over to him and take his hand. It's huge, enveloping your own, but he holds your hand with care and shakes it very gently.
He lets go to wash his hands and put a pair of latex gloves on.
“You know you don't have to dress up to go to the dentist, but it's appreciated.”
Is he flirting with me?
“I-I was at work this morning.”
You perch on the seat and pull your legs up, sliding your handbag to the floor.
“So, what seems to be the problem?”
“I was, well…”
“It's OK sweetheart, I ain't gonna tell you off.”
Sweetheart? Oh Holy Shit.
You found yourself clenching your toes in your heels. This guy is far too hot to be a dentist.
“I was eating a sucker and I, well, I bit down, broke my back right wisdom tooth. It shattered.”
He scoots his stool towards you and instructs you to open your mouth. As he examines you he hums, feeling inside your mouth with a gloved hand.
“Yup, that's broken up alright. I'm sorry, that must be painful. Don't worry, I'll do my best to help. I'm gonna do an x-ray, that OK?”
“Yeah.”
Pulling a little plastic T instrument from his desk, he wheels back over.
“Now, this is going to be uncomfortable, and I'm real sorry. Open your mouth and I'll slide it in gently.”
Face flickering a violent shade of red, you nod. Surely he's aware of how this sounds?
“OK, open wide, that's it.”
He puts the little contraption in your mouth.
“OK, now bite down. I know, it's uncomfortable. It'll just take a second. That's it, just breathe for me.”
It's not intolerable but it's not exactly nice. A moment before it would have been too much he takes it out.
“That's it, did so good for me. Well done sweetheart.”
Now, this is not the fucking time to have these sorts of feelings. A heat had started spreading between your legs that you haven't felt for quite some time.
“Hmm,” Eddie said as he looked at the x-ray, “I definitely need to remove those pieces. I'm a bit concerned about the tooth above it. That's got a cavity, it'll need to be removed, but it'll need surgery I'm sorry to say.”
“Surgery? Oh God.”
“Hey, it'll be alright. I'd do it now but it's too risky. Never had to go into surgery before?”
Laughing nervously, you fiddle with your fingers.
“I've never had a tooth removed! I'm a tooth removal virgin.”
The words just flew out and there was nothing you could do to pull them back. Eddie leaned in a little, a cheeky glint in his eye.
“Well, then I'll be extra gentle.”
A stare that's a fraction too long, and he scoots back over to his desk. Not long after he's got a needle in his hand.
“Now, I'm gonna need to numb the area, and this is going to be painful. But once this is done, that's the worst of it. If you need me to stop at any point, you just raise your hand. That OK?”
“Sure, do what you need to.”
“Atta girl, so brave for me. Open your mouth wide.”
My good God this man and his words; you can picture yourself on your knees in front of him as he says the same things.
Atta girl, take it a little deeper, that's it, so good for me…
Squirming hotly in your seat, you do as instructed and his gloved fingers invade your mouth once more.
“OK, you're gonna feel a sharp scratch, it'll go on for a few seconds, doing it now… good girl.”
As he says ‘good girl’ two things happen. He injects your gum, and you flood your panties. The pain is inconsequential at this point, you just want him to keep talking to you like that.
“OK, one more sweetheart… that's it, so brave, look at you, taking it so well.”
He stares at you with those soft brown eyes and once again you forget entirely why you're here.
“Now, you should start to feel your lips tingle, it'll mean it's working.”
Your dirty mind can't help but think; which lips?
As a numbness invades your mouth, you let him know.
“Yeah, it's definitely working.”
“Good stuff. Now, I'm gonna feel in your mouth again, OK?”
You nod, beyond words, and he puts his fingers in your mouth.
“Now, if you need me to stop, what do you do?”
Sheepishly you hold your hand up.
“That's it, atta girl. Such a good listener.”
Nothing you can do but beam inwardly at the praise.
“Now, you can feel me right here, but there should be no pain, yeah?”
Resisting the urge to moan around his fingers, you make a sound akin to a muffled ‘uhuh’.
“Awesome, now just hold still, you'll hear some crunching and feel pressure, and then it'll be done.”
As he pulls a shiny implement from a tray and starts working the tooth shards from your mouth, you focus on his forehead, at the look of total concentration. How the lines on his forehead furrow. How his beautiful eyes harden slightly. How his perfect pink tongue dips out…
“All done.”
“Huh?”
He laughs, a rich, bubbling thing, and nods.
“Yup. You're good. Need to make an appointment at the desk for the other tooth though.”
“Will you be doing that?”
It rushes out in a blather which you can't control.
“Sure thing sweetheart. Just ask at the desk for me.”
“OK. Thanks.”
“Not a problem. Got to be there for my favourite patient.”
He flashes another wink at you which seems to rush straight to your knees as you get up and leave on newborn foal legs. Reaching the door, you hear his voice ring out behind you.
“And what should we do with suckers next time?”
Turning to face him, he raises an eyebrow, awaiting your response with the most serious expression he's given you so far.
“I should… suck?”
“Yeah you should.”
A mind altering grin later and he's turning back to his desk.
I should suck? What the hell is wrong with you! You need to get laid like, yesterday.
********************
It's a couple of weeks later and you're laying in the most unflattering hospital gown known to man with your best friend Alex who is trying to distract you.
“Honey, you'll be fine, they're putting you under! It's like, free drugs!”
You laugh at his antics, smiling with nerves.
“It's not the surgery, its-”
You hear mumbling in the doorway, two nurses gossiping in what they must think is out of earshot.
“Did you hear? Dr Munsons performing the surgery?”
“Yeah, he's not even supposed to be here. I hear Dr Stevens is pissed.”
As they walk away, continuing their whispering, you look over to Alex who is smirking at you.
“Oh, so he's not even supposed to be here? Ooh he likes you!”
You blush, thinking about the other day.
“No! I… I asked for him, that's all. You know I don't like this sort of shit.”
“Ah, so you thought Dr Dreamy would make it bearable huh?”
“Shut up!”
Dr Munson walks in then, smiling that smile that held a firm grip on your panties. Alex's eyes widen as he mouths the word ‘hot’ to you. You subtly nod your agreement and then smile at Eddie.
“Well, fancy seeing you here.”
“Couldn't stay away,” you respond, rolling your eyes. He chuckles back and looks you up and down.
“I told you sweetheart, no need to get dressed up for me.”
“What, this old thing?”
You share a laugh whilst Alex's eyebrows raise practically through the roof. This is clearly crossing some line, this banter between you, but he's the doctor and he started it.
Soon, the procedure has been explained and they're wheeling you out of there and putting you under anaesthesia.
“OK, good job, such a brave girl. Now, countdown from ten for me.”
“Ten, nine, eight…”
********************
Blinking bleary-eyed, you look around and catch the eye of your friend.
“She's awake! You OK?”
You are OK. In fact, you're fantastic.
“I'm great! M'I goin’ in surgery now?”
“You've been, it's done! It's all fine.”
“Huh?”
A fantastically handsome man walks in, entirely distracting you. Long hair, sparkling eyes, a gorgeous smile, and a slender tall frame. He's so hot. Wait, you can just say he's hot, right?
“Wow, wh'ryou? You're suuuper hot.”
He laughs, looking a little embarrassed.
“I'm Dr Munson, remember? Eddie. The er, drugs will wear off soon.”
“Eddie!”
You sit up immediately, despite the hands that shoot out to keep you still.
“Now, take it easy, the ketamine makes people act a little funny. How are you feeling?”
“M��great! All… floaty like. S’good shit.”
Eddie laughs as Alex holds his head in his hands.
“Good to hear. It'll wear off soon, I'm sure your boyfriend will take good care of you.”
“Nooo he's n’my’boyfrien’. He's suuuper gay. Ya’single? I no’had- not had any for nine months!”
Alex pipes up.
“Honey, you know I love you, so much, but you need to shut your mouth.”
Eddie laughs, flashing his perfect teeth.
“He's got a point. Glad you're doing good, the surgery went smoothly, so you'll be good to go in a few minutes.”
“Thank's'much Eddie. God, you're s’gorgeous. Did I do good?”
Eddie looks like he wants to be anywhere but here.
“Course you did. The best. That's why you're my favourite patient.”
Holding your hand up to your mouth and doing the worst stage whisper known to man, you look at Alex.
“See? Tol’ ya, his wors’ make me wet.”
“...aaaand that's the line. Thanks for taking care of her Dr Munson, I'll get her home safe.”
With protests from you, Eddie shuffles awkwardly out of the room. After a little while you're discharged, with Alex promising to look after you until you're back to normal.
********************
The strong coffee aroma assaults your nostrils; you take a massive inhale of your cup as if the caffeine could be absorbed by smell alone. The coffee shop was busy this Saturday morning but you'd managed to carve out your little comfy seat and tiny table so you can work on your writing. It was a relief after the busy week you've had to actually focus on something you love.
The noises and chatter of the place wash over you as you zone out, thinking of how to handle the plot twist coming up. It needed to be thoughtful, but unforced, as if the characters…
“Well, if it isn't my favourite patient.”
“Huh?”
You look up and see a very familiar pair of eyes. Eddie. The rest of him however, looks very different.
Eddie's in an old Iron Maiden t-shirt, worn with age, and tight black jeans. A chain hangs low at his hip, and his large hands are adorned with silver rings. His hair is loose and unkept around his shoulders, but his signature smile still beams at you. His forearms are on display, covered in tattoos. It's certainly not what you were expecting. How did he just get even hotter?
Remembering what Alex told you about how you made an utter fool of yourself brings you out of your revelry. The stuff you said to him after surgery makes you visibly cringe. You were torn between wanting to ask him out and wanting the ground to swallow you whole.
Cheeks blazing with heat, you find your voice.
“Eddie! Er, hi.”
“You mind if I sit here? It's pretty packed.”
Gesturing at him to make himself comfortable, he swings his leg over the stool opposite and sits down, mug of steaming coffee in his hands.
“What brings you here?”
“Well, I write. As a hobby, you know? Needed to get out of the house and get some done. And you?”
He points a thick finger across the street and you gulp in your throat, remembering the feel of those fingers in your mouth.
“There's a record store across the way, I was scouting for anything I've missed. Unlucky today it seems.”
It was weird seeing him here. Like when you see a teacher in the wild. Except you're not a kid, and the teacher is fucking fine.
You nod and share a very uncomfortable silence.
“Listen, I'm sorry for anything I said-”
“Hey, don't worry about it sweetheart, it was the drugs. Trust me I've heard some weird shit!”
He seems to shrug it off and you breathe a sigh of relief. The last few weeks all you've managed to think about is how much of a fool you've made of yourself. Hopefully he's chalked it all up to the drugs. No need for him to know you were speaking the truth.
“I gotta say, you don't look like a dentist.”
Eddie laughs, a perfect deep laugh that has you squirming in your seat.
“Yeah, I get that alot. I er, used to get beat up when I was a kid. I got punched real hard once, broke my jaw. It was wired shut for like six weeks. After that, well, you find some respect for dentistry. Thought I'd give it a shot, went to school. Seems I have a knack for it. I have an impeccable bedside manner, apparently. Or so I'm told.”
I'll say.
“I can- I can see that.”
He blazes a grin at you that damn near combusts your insides. And that's what you blame for the thing that's about to fall out of your big mouth.
“Listen, I know this is crazy but can I have your number?”
What the fuck are you doing?? Hitting on your dentist?
It seems your word vomit was indeed something that happened in real life and not just in your head. Eddie looks pained as he warms his hands on his coffee mug.
“Listen, sweetheart, you're a very pretty girl but… I can't. It'd be wrong of me, you're my patient and-”
“No, I get it, it was dumb, ignore me.”
You grab your belongings at the speed of lightning and stuff everything into your bag.
“Hey, sweetheart, wait, I literally ca-”
Hell no.
You've made more of an idiot of yourself than you're prepared to be comfortable with. Now, cheeks burning hotly you shoulder your heavy bag and bustle out of the store, leaving an open mouthed Eddie sitting there with his arm outstretched.
********************
Today was the cherry on top of the icing on top of the cake of embarrassment. You've never asked a guy for his number before and the first time you do you're shot down? Confidence well and truly knocked, you called around and found a new dentist, and then called your old dentist's office to let them know. There was no way you could face Eddie again after you'd made a fool of yourself three times.
In an effort to cheer yourself up after that disastrous rendezvous, you'd dressed up, put on your highest heels paired with your shortest skirt and a red silk blouse, and went out for a night on the town.
Now, you don't make a habit of sitting at the bar on your own. You've dealt with enough creeps in your time to know that it was a bad idea. However, when it comes to your friends, you can give a little leeway.
Hence why you sat in your very short black skirt, heels tapping on the little rail on the bottom of the bar as you sip your Manhattan, watching your friend Alex out the corner of your eye have a make-out session with his new boyfriend. They were sitting at a table just to the right; you were on a barstool giving them a couple feet of privacy.
It was getting a little old though. In the past half an hour three men had approached you. You can't lie to yourself, it was the reason you'd agreed to be a third wheel in the first place. Trying to manifest the right kind of man clearly wasn't working however.
The first guy looked around twelve, with the wispiest facial hair you've ever seen. As he'd nervously bumbled a line at you, you told him you've never seen a theoretical moustache before. That saw the back of him. Contestant number two was the sleaziest douchebag in the whole bar, perhaps the entire city. He was the hardest to deal with; you'd ended up just turning away and ignoring him until he'd left. Number three was some balding, middle aged man with a pot belly and a stained tie. Exhausted by the previous two, you interrupted his practised line with one clear and concise ‘No’.
Almost certain that your date tonight would involve you with your vibrator, you order another cocktail. On your left directly next to you a guy starts leaning on the bar and calls to the bartender.
“Hey Jack, can I get a beer please, and whatever this lovely girl is drinking.”
Rolling your eyes and turning to look at contestant number four, ready to tell them to fuck right off, you realise its Eddie. Of course it fucking is. The universe seems to have a horrible sense of humour today. He's still in his jeans and boots, but now sporting a burgundy shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Stupid dentist and his stupid hot tattooed forearms.
“Are you following me? I don't need a pity drink thanks, I'm good.”
You reach into your purse to pay for the drink you ordered but Eddie already has cash in his hand. He pays for it anyway and leans on the bar facing you.
“It's not pity, it's an apology for earlier. And I think you're the one following me, I live two floors up.”
Lips pressed into a firm line, you stir your drink with its cocktail stick and pretend that dentists don't exist.
“You can't just ignore me, you know.”
Taking a sip of your drink you continue to stare resolutely forward.
“OK, you can just ignore me, but I'd like it if you didn't.”
Another sip, and you pull the little cherry off its stick and chew it.
“So, you got a thing for dentists or is it just me, sweetheart?”
That's it, you turn angrily to face him and scowl.
“That's totally unfair you can't just-”
“Ha, got ya talking.”
He's grinning at his little victory, laughter lines creasing near his eyes. If your eyes could shoot daggers you're sure he would have died from blood loss at this point.
“Listen, I'm sorry, OK? I would have said yes in a fucking heartbeat, but I could lose my license.”
Your eyes soften; he's clearly telling the truth and it does make sense. His licence hadn't even entered your mind.
“I understand. Sorry for being rough on you.”
“Don't worry about it. I just thought I better clear the air if I'm gonna be your dentist.”
“Oh, don't worry about it. You're not.”
“Huh?”
Looking down at the bar and drawing circles in the condensation from your drink with a finger, you explain.
“I couldn't face seeing you again, so I, ha, ran off to a different dentist. It's a half hour out of my way, but never mind.”
Eddie's posture changes immediately, standing fully to attention.
“You're not my patient anymore?”
“Nope,” you reply, and knock back the last of your drink, “I'm not.”
“You're not my patient anymore.”
You risk looking back at him; he's wide eyed, nodding in your direction, as if he's just told a joke that you didn't get. Face scrunched with confusion, you blink it away as a light bulb pings on inside your head.
“Oh. I'm not your patient anymore.”
The grin that slowly unfolds across Eddie's face is damn right sinful.
“You wanna come upstairs?”
“Hell yes.”
Leaping lightly off of the bar stool, you turn to dislodge your coat from the back of Alex's chair and wave at him frantically to tell him you're leaving. He turns to you, then Eddie, then back to you with what can only be described as A Look. If you weren't so excited you would have admonished him, but who the fuck cares.
Eddie grabs your hand firmly and pushes through the thronging crowd with you in tow. The cold night air hits you like a blow to the chest when you escape, as does your rash decision.
Eddie seems to sense your hesitation. Pulling you into a doorway he grabs your other hand and looks at you.
“Sweetheart, you know you don't have to do anything you don't want to. We can just go upstairs, have a drink, or not, and chat. Really.”
“Really?” You cock your head with the question as he licks his bottom lip with a pink tongue, dragging it to his perfect teeth to bite. He looks nervous, and for some reason, that is doing it for you right now.
“Really. I'm just saying we don't have to rush-”
The rest of his sentence is swallowed whole by your kiss as you tip your head up and push your lips against his firmly. Eddie grabs your waist with one hand, the other snaking into your hair to cradle your head.
For a moment you forget about the cold, about the fact that anyone can see you like this right now. All that matters is the pounding heat of his body smashing against yours and the passion pouring from his tongue as it swipes and rolls and fills your mouth with unexpected moans.
Nails digging into his back, as if attempting to claw under his clothes, you force his body against the wall in the wanton desire to be closer. His hand massages the silk of your blouse at your waist, warmth spreading from his palm into your very flesh and seeping down between your legs.
You'd have him, right here, against this wall, right now, if he hadn't pulled your head back softly to break the kiss. The tips of your noses rub together as you both gasp for the same air. He's smiling and biting his lip again, but this time it looks like a distraction to stop himself from devouring you. Eddie breaks the feral spell first.
“So, just a chat, yeah?”
You both laugh, a giddy silly thing reserved for the two of you.
“Yeah, you're probably right. Don't want to rush these things.”
Nodding sagely, you take his proffered hand and let him lead you inside and up the stairs.
You're not sure what you expect his place to look like, but you're pleasantly surprised at how open and spacious it is. Hardwood floors, big windows, a big black sofa, and an open kitchen area with a little breakfast bar. There's a wall of shelves with what must be hundreds of records, CDs and tapes on it, all neatly organised and displayed, and an expensive looking sound system. Two guitars sit by the couch as if they'd been played recently, along with an amp that seems to be doubling as a side table. There's a small pile of boxes over by one wall that have yet to be unpacked. And that's it.
No wonder it looks so spacious, there's nothing in it.
“Eddie, it's a great place, but er, where's all your stuff?”
He looks a little sheepish as he flicks a standing lamp on and shuts the curtains.
“Yeah. Got the basics sorted; kitchen, bedroom, music. Honestly, never lived anywhere this big before, and my last place came furnished.”
He gestures widely at the sofa with a swing of his arm and you perch on it, ankles crossed, fully aware of how short your skirt is.
“So, you wanna drink? Unfortunately I can't make a Manhattan but I’ve got rum, some vodka, sodas, maybe a beer?”
“What do you mean you can't make a Manhattan? What sort of establishment is this?”
You huff dramatically, folding your arms.
“I'm terribly sorry Ma’am, I shall have a word with the management.”
Eddie falls to one knee in a low bow, a mock plea for your forgiveness and the sheer goofiness makes your heart do a little hop inside your chest.
“What can I possibly do to make it up to you?”
His eyes are open, honest and sincere. But the grin fighting to crawl over his face is naughtiness personified.
“Well I shall have a beer now, and maybe you can make it up to me later?”
Smirking, he presses a soft kiss to your knee, then another, to the side of it. Letting his teeth drag further he playfully nips at the outside of your thigh and smooths the area with a lick.
Breathe. Remember, you need oxygen to live.
You take a harsh, ragged breath in as if inhaling for the first time and try to concentrate on slowing your heart rate. This is madness, you feel wrecked from a sprinkling of kisses.
Feeling Eddie's soft chuckle as the air from it dances on your thigh, he gets back up looking far too pleased with himself.
“You know, you shouldn't be that forward with a lady.”
Throwing his head back and laughing loudly he walks around the back of the couch. Directly behind you, he begins talking again.
“I don't see a lady here.”
Whipping your head around to reprimand him, he bends to your level and whispers in your exposed ear.
“I see a very good girl.”
Words die in your throat having never reached your tongue. There's no witty repartee, just an odd noise that blurts out of you, halfway between a whimper and a squeak.
Eddie walks away towards the fridge to grab your drink, no doubt with a very smug look on his face. In his absence you fan yourself to try to quench some of the raging heat within, but at this point it's like throwing a water bomb at a house fire. Undoing one button on your blouse, you let the girls have a little air at least.
He returns, drinks in hand, and offers one to you with a bow of his head.
“Milady.”
You take it and sip as Eddie sits next to you.
“I thought I wasn't a lady?”
“You are right, absolutely right,” he responds, shuffling closer to put an arm around you, and nuzzles your neck teasingly, “and I am not a gentleman.”
You reach out to the side, and realise there's nowhere to put your beer.
“Eddie, you need a coffee table or something.”
“Just, put it on the floor.”
Placing it gently on the floor, wincing as you do so, you mumble half to yourself, “if my mother could see me now…”
“I'm sure she'd have more important things to say than about the lack of coasters, sweetheart.”
“You have a very good point.”
Eddie holds your jaw, softly turning your face to his own, and presses a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, and finally to your lips. It's more gentle than the searing heat of the last one; a languid spell of tongues finding their way against each other.
As you both break away, Eddie strokes your bare thigh, whispering in your ear as he does so.
“God, when you walked in my office, I thought I might have to switch professions. I just wanted to hike that tight skirt up and bury my face right here.”
His hand moves up your leg, a finger ghosting over the top of your panties that makes a shiver work all its way to the tips of your toes. It's a bold move, and one you wouldn't stand for usually, but this is Eddie. You've been fantasising about this for the last two months. Hell, this scene has played in your brain so long it was almost like it didn't feel like the first time.
So, if he's going to be that bold, then bold it is.
“Well, I gotta confess, it took a lot for me to not moan around your fingers in my mouth.”
Eddie groans loud, throwing his head against the back of the couch.
“Fuck that's so hot. C'mere.”
He's coaxing you into his lap and you follow his lead, swinging your leg across him and most likely giving him a choice view of your lacy underwear. His large hands wander over your frame, mapping out your curves with his eyes as well as his fingers.
“Eddie.”
You breathe it out, your hands resting on his shoulders. He's getting hard beneath you, you can feel it as your hips start to move back and forth of their own accord.
“Hmm?”
He doesn't look up, busy stroking your sides, thumb brushing your breasts with each pass. Every nerve feels like a live wire, feeling more needy than you think you've ever been.
“Eddie, please, just kiss me.”
“No.”
“No?”
He does look at you then, giving you a cheeky smile.
“I think I've got the hottest girl in the city on my lap right now, let me savour it a little.”
Rolling your eyes, you reach to the front of your blouse and start unbuttoning it slowly, letting the silky fabric fall off your shoulders and away. The fates seem to be in your favour for once; this is your best bra, adorned in satin and black lace.
“Well, someone's eager. Were you looking to get lucky tonight?”
Eddie says as he smirks at you, a hand stroking up, over your laced covered chest, coming to rest on the side of your throat.
“It's been a while Eddie, forgive me for being keen.”
“Oh yeah, what was it? Nine months, right?”
Cringing at his words whilst he chuckles, you rest your forehead on his shoulder to hide your face.
“Technically no.” It's muffled into the fabric of his shirt.
“No?”
Still unwilling to look at him, you reply, “that was a few weeks ago. It's ten now.”
Pulling you upright again, he playfully pouts, a little mocking face that's making your insides pulse.
“Aw, poor, poor baby. Guess I shouldn't tease so much. Why don't you take this ridiculous skirt off and sit for me sweetheart.”
It's comical how quickly you follow his directions, shuffling your skirt off and laying back on the sofa, ass near the edge, as he drops to his knees on the floor in front of you.
“That's it, right there. Such a good listener.”
As he runs his hands up the inside of your thighs, you spread your legs to make room for him, breath quickening in anticipation.
“I suppose I better check,” he says as he looks up at you with a serious expression, pierced eyebrow arching.
“Check what?”
“How wet my words made you.”
‘Oh God!” you squeak, hiding in your hands, “I can't believe you remembered that!”
“Remembered it? I can't think of anything else.”
His thick rough fingertips reach higher and higher; he slips two under your panties, hooking them to one side as his digits glide through your wetness.
“Oh sweetheart, you're soaked. That must be uncomfortable. Don't worry I'm gonna do something about that.”
You're thinking of something clever to say back but your mind empties entirely as his touch moves to your clit and rubs slow, deliberate circles.
The relief of him finally stroking just where you need it has you near tears, breathy gasps pulling from your chest and rushing out your mouth.
His fingers leave you suddenly and you resist the urge to stamp your foot like an impatient toddler, fists tight at your sides. Eddie raises up on his knees, leaning toward your chest.
“I'm gonna take this off first, that OK sweetheart?”
He runs a finger between the valley of your breasts as he speaks, making your back arch into the hint of a touch.
“Y-yes.”
“Atta girl.”
He reaches behind you and flicks your bra clasp, opening it with such ease that it makes you question internally how many times he's done that before. Then, he pulls the straps down slowly and with such reverence that you forget your thoughts.
“Jesus Christ, you are just perfect aren't you.”
Solid knuckles rub gently over a pebbled nipple making you whimper and bite your lip. Leaning in, his mouth is wet and warm, almost leisurely massaging your nipple, then giving the same amount of care and attention to the other.
When his teeth graze you an unfiltered moan shoots out from you, entirely unbidden.
“Wow, you're really sensitive,” he says when he unlatches his mouth. He pinches one abruptly and you cry out, hand grasping at his bicep in pleasurable shock. Licking his lips, he grins at you.
“Oh we are gonna have a lot of fun sweetheart.”
Running a finger just under the hem of your panties, he pulls them down as you assist him, lifting your ass to give him room. He shakes his head, biting his lip as he takes all of you in with his eyes now that you're entirely exposed, as if he can’t believe his luck.
Kissing down your quivering form, he finally slips that overbold tongue of his between your folds, running it back and forth over your sensitive nub. His tongue searches you, taking care to leave no spot untouched. It's deliberate; a slow and intense exploration of your sex, as if mapping out every sweet spot, spurred on by the moans spilling from your lips with ever increasing frequency.
Each sound you make is echoed, mirrored by Eddie, as if he was taking as much enjoyment in eating you out as you were in receiving it. The build up is as slow as his movements, but that certainly isn't a bad thing. Far from it. The feeling fizzing in your very blood is deep and profound, and it keeps building.
Until Eddie does this twirling thing with his tongue that makes your eyes cross, that sets each one of your nerves on fire, fingers desperately grasping at his soft waves as you moan even louder.
“Fuck, Eddie! Right there!”
His words are muffled, a hint of amusement in them, but you're sure he says “yes ma'am.”
Then he does it again, and again, tongue twisting like it's independent from his body, swirling you into a deep pool of overwashing ecstasy. Back leaving the soft confines of the couch you clutch at his hair as your hoarse moans pound out of you, until you flop back down, a glistening panting mess.
Eddie's still kissing your delicate parts, leaving soft, almost innocent kisses. He presses his lips to your clit again and you squirm, trying to get out of his gentle, grasping hands. It's a soft touch, but his hands are immovable, like velvet wrapped around a steel bar.
“Eddie, fuck, I-I'm really sensitive-”
“Oh I know sweetheart,” he says, pressing his mouth against you over and over, “but we're not done.”
Staring at him wide eyed, he lifts one hand, ring and middle finger outstretched, and brushes the tips of them to your kiss bitten bottom lip.
“Can you get these nice and wet for me sweetheart?”
Parting your lips slightly, he slips the fingers inside and you do as instructed, licking and suckling on them, surprised by how fiercely you wanted to. They felt rough and heavy on your tongue. Eddie's staring at you with a burning admiration in his eyes, still pushing his lips to you. He suckles softly at your clit making you writhe and moan around him. As he pulls his fingers out you call to him.
“Eddie, I can't it's too much-”
“Shhh, princess, do you really want me to stop?”
A little drop of shame trickles down your throat at the thought.
“No,” you whisper.
“That's what I thought,” he says as his fingers circle your silken entrance, “be good for me sweetheart, good girls come twice.”
You're not sure if the heady moan that you release is due to his fingers slipping inside you, or his words. It could be a combination of both. Stroking at you incessantly, his fingers drive into you, perpetually caressing that soft spot inside that makes your toes curl.
Your release creeps up unsurprisingly fast. It's all force and pressure, a tightening, full feeling that's gripping your insides in its strong claws. One minute you're holding on to reality and the next, you're gone, floating away as the pressure melts and cascades from you like stardust.
Your vision unblurring, you realise what's happened when the sound of it reaches your ears. That squelching, soaking noise of Eddie's fingers working you through the last throes of your pleasure.
As you look down Eddie's staring at your dripping pussy with awe, having to pull his fingers out of you with a bit of force since you don't seem to want to let go. He sits back on his heels with a smile that could rival the Cheshire cats, absolutely coated in your juices. It's covering his face, his hand, and it's even darkened the front and sleeve of his shirt.
An apology nestles on the tip of your tongue, but it stays there when Eddie speaks.
“Atta girl, did so good for me. Fuck, I kinda want to see if you can do that again.”
Opening your mouth for a witty remark, it escapes you. Your usually sharp mind is now the consistency of spray cheese. All that comes out is a soft little noise, a cross between a hum and a thank you.
“Stay right there, I'll be back.”
You giggle a little as he runs off. Where on earth does he think you'll go? And more importantly, how?
When he returns his face and hands are clean, and crucially, he's shirtless. Lean muscle gleams in the low light, decorated with a dozen or so tattoos. He's got a cloth in one hand, and a glass of water in the other.
“Here, drink up sweetheart, you need it.”
You search for a hint of playfulness or smugness in his face and come up empty. In fact, he's staring, waiting for you to take a sip. When you do, he smiles, and goes about wiping the tops of your thighs. The cloth is even warm. You've never been given a warm cloth before, the closest being a handful of scrunched up tissues.
“Eddie, where have you been all my life?”
Laughing loudly, he sits next to you, stealing a sip of your water.
“I came as quickly as I could.”
It was a cheesy line, but you're beyond caring, a goofy grin smeared all over your face.
“Can I take you to the bedroom?”
You nod and before you can get up he's scooping you into his arms.
“Eddie, I can walk you know,” you say as you drape your arms around his neck.
“Oh I know, I just want to take care of you.”
Fuck. You could move in tomorrow.
The only things you notice about the bedroom are the soft blue of the duvet as he places you gently on top of it and the bedside lamps he flicks on that bathe the room in a warm glow. The rest doesn't matter, not right now. Your eyes are on him as he stands at the edge of the bed, looking at you as if you were a beautiful sculpture carved from the finest marble.
Getting up on your knees, you smile cheekily up at him as you hook your fingers into the worn denim and pop the top button.
“And what do you think you're doing?” He asks, hand moving up to cradle your face.
“I was going to return the favour.”
You unzip the fly and pull them down, eyes widening at the swollen bulge in his trunks. They're tight, leaving little room for the imagination, but anything you may have imagined couldn't possibly compare to the real thing.
“Not tonight sweetheart. Like I said, I want to take care of you.”
He turns to the nightstand and rummages around, pulling out a packet of condoms. It's new, you notice, as he unwraps the film and takes one out, placing it on the side whilst he rolls his underwear off.
As he's putting it on you gawp shamelessly, truly wondering if it's actually going to fit. No wonder he's so confident.
“Did you actually just turn down a blow job?”
He smiles, crawling between your legs and caging your head between his arms.
“What can I say, I'm a giver.”
He stops for a moment, knuckles stroking your cheek.
“You sure you wanna do this?”
Smiling gently, you reach down and grasp his solid member making him jolt, and rub the tip through your slick.
“Yes.”
You line him up and his smile turns into an open mouthed groan, eyebrows knitting together as he starts slipping inside of you.
“Eddie, holy- fuck.”
“You're OK sweetheart, doing such a good job for me.”
He pushes in further and you realise why all the foreplay was necessary. Clearly, he enjoyed it too, but you're not sure you could have taken him without it. When he's finally sitting flush inside you wince a little, hands tight on his shoulders.
“You feel incredible, so tight for me.”
Whimpering, you can feel your cheeks heat with the praise.
“God you really do like my words don't you?”
Grinning mischievously, he plants a soft kiss to your lips. It weirdly feels more intimate than him being inside you.
“Y-yeah, it's really sexy Eddie.”
His cock kicks up inside you, making you gasp a little.
“You're really sexy. The little sounds you make, your moans.”
As if demonstrating that, he pulls out a little and thrusts in gently, forcing a quivering sigh from you.
“See? Fucking perfect sweetheart.”
He begins rolling his hips into you, never pulling out too much, as if he couldn't stand to be any further apart.
One of his sinewy arms snakes its way underneath you, holding you close as he playfully nips your earlobe and breathing whispers into your ear.
“How many times?”
“Huh?” You respond, utterly lost in the feel of him dragging against your gripping walls.
“How many times do you want to come?”
You giggle, despite the situation, or maybe because of it.
“I don't usually, oh, get t-to choose, is there a- oh fuck- there a menu or something?”
He chuckles and slows down just slightly, pushing into you devastatingly deep.
“What's the most you've managed?”
He's so thick, and the feel of him is otherworldly; it had you wondering how it'd feel without the layer of latex between you.
“I can't- fuck- I can't think- like two?”
He stops, looking at you incredulously with a furrowed brow.
“Two? We can do better than that.”
He speeds up, leaning on one arm as his other hand finds its way down your torso and begins to rub your clit. That pulse inside you is sent into overdrive, mouth open and panting as you cling to his back, nails digging into his skin.
Your release swells inside, growing, and intensifying, until it suddenly pops, showering you in pleasure. Tears spring in the corners of your eyes as you moan out your release an inch from his face.
“Atta girl,” Eddie says as he nudges you with his nose, “do that again.”
Your clit feels a little sore, swollen and sensitive after so much pleasure. His touch is gentle, but it's still overwhelming.
“Eddie, I-I can't, please-”
“You want me to stop? I'll stop if you want that sweetheart.”
The sharp feeling begins to dull, making way for another wave of euphoria that washes over your whole body. Legs twitching uncontrollably, you whine long and low, a flood of noises bursting from you that no damn could ever stop.
“That a no, sweetheart?”
“Don't stop don't stop don’t stop - oh!”
You'd be embarrassed by the crazy noise you made as you come again, if you were even aware of it. A screeching loud moan, eyes scrunched as your body leaves the bed and your nails drag across his bare back.
“That's it, knew you could, so good for me. Fuck, nearly lost it.”
He does stop then, biting his lip to stop himself from unleashing his own orgasm as his breath comes in short huffs.
“Eddie, you don't have to- ohmygod!”
The last of your sentence evaporates on your tongue as he hooks his arms under your legs and pushes your thighs flush to your chest. It seems even Eddie has lost the power of speech, dirty moans pouring from his mouth that rival your own.
He's so deep, impossibly deep; as if he were in your guts at this point. You've never felt so full in all your life. Your third release is almost there, a tightening string wound around you, pulling and twisting and contorting your body into a writhing sweaty shambles.
You're clenching and convulsing around his pumping length as he twitches inside you, his groans and grunts spurring you on. It's faster now, his thrusts becoming more erratic. Sweat clings to the very air, the heat in the room creating this cloying humidity that dampens each breath out, making hair stick to skin and creating loud slapping sounds of your conjunction.
Eddie's face is red with effort, teeth gritted and lips tight.
“Are you gonna come again? I can feel you. Please, sweetheart, please- fuck- I need it, I need it, come with me!”
You let go. The tight string breaks and your orgasm spreads through your very soul; it's so profound and savage that tears spill out and down your cheeks with its intensity. Eddie joins you, coming as one with a drawn out groan that borders on feral.
For a moment, you both revel in it, just panting, feeling sticky skin against skin, heartbeats slowing, muscles unwinding and relaxing.
He finally unhooks his arms from your legs and you lay them shakily on the down as he clambers off, collapsing next to you on the bed.
“You OK sweetheart?”
“Hmm.”
It's all you can reply with, a little satisfied noise. Scooting closer to him, you place your hand hesitantly on his chest.
“Hang on a sec.”
He gets up and disposes of the condom, slowly padding out the room. Returning again with another glass of water for you, he hands it over with a raise of an eyebrow. This time you take it gratefully, chugging half of it before passing it back.
A moment of panic grips your chest, followed by shame. You barely know him, yet you'd gone to his place with hardly any hesitation.
As he lays back down next to you, scooping his arm around your back, you clear your throat.
“I just, er, wanted you to know I don't usually do this.”
“Hey, it's alright. Neither do I.”
Feeling slightly less trampy, you stroke his chest with delicate fingers, wishing for the moment to last but knowing it can't.
“I don't think my legs work anymore, I think you'll have to call me a taxi.”
Eddie sits up suddenly, looking at you with anguish written all over his face.
“You're not leaving, are you?”
“Well, I don't fancy doing the walk of shame tomorrow in that outfit.”
He pouts, looking much younger than he is.
“Oh. Well, you can always borrow something to wear?”
“That's even worse!” You laugh, hitting his chest softly.
“Fine, then I'll go out in the morning and buy you something to wear.”
Staring at him wide eyed, you realise he's not joking.
“Really?”
“Sweetheart, I'd buy you a whole new wardrobe if it meant you’d stay.”
Heart beating just that little bit faster in your chest, you fight the tears that want to build up.
“I just thought, you know, well, we don't know each other that well and that you might think this was just, a thing.”
“You mean a one night thing?”
You nod, not trusting your voice.
“C'mere.”
Melting into his open arms, he kisses the top of your head.
“I want you to stay. I'll take you home Monday and-”
“Eddie, tomorrow's Sunday.”
“I know.”
“Eddie, I have to work Monday. So do you!”
You laugh, trying to break free of his arms but he doesn't let up.
“Fine, I'll take you home tomorrow. Late. Then see you Monday night.”
Face hurting from smiling, you settle into the cuddle, the swell of feeling in your chest almost too much for you right now.
“Eddie I can't stay. I don't have a toothbrush.”
You say it jokingly, and he squeezes you.
“It's fine, I've got like 20 of them from work.”
“Thief.”
“I prefer to think of it as resourceful.”
Suddenly he pulls you on top of him making you squeal.
“So you gonna stay?”
“Yeah, fine I'll stay.” You try to say it in a mocking manner but your silly grin belies your rolling eyes.
“Good.”
Holding you close, Eddie breathes such a sigh of relief; a deep one, one that sounds like he's been holding in for some time. A sigh that makes you feel special.
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