yoursweetheartsrevenge

[yoursweetheartsrevenge]

No cause it’s not funny is it

Are u kiddddddding me?????

[yoursweetheartsrevenge]

Sweet Little Flower

Summary: Phoebe had always been attractive to innocence. Her sweetness and kindness had always been described as a sweet little flower. Upon traveling to The Halcyon she finds herself wandering the gardens nearby stumbling upon a bell boy who has lost something quite important.

Warnings: fluff, too sweet (you will get a cavity from this), lovesick girlie, feelings of self doubt

Word Count: 1.9K+ Author’s Note: For @blind-dates-fest,  trying out a shy, sweet girl for the first time. Traits were insecure and loved flowers. Let me know if you would like a part two. I had a great time writing this one ❤️

Phoebe Sutherland was drawn to sweetness. 

She gravitated toward the innocence in people, always giving each person the benefit of the doubt before judgement. 

Her nature drew people who would take advantage of her love. It drew in false friends who only stuck around to bask in the richness of her family. Even when told to her face that the friends had only wanted her for her generosity, Phoebe didn’t mind. 

“If it helps them be my friend.” 

Her family, worried. 

Yes, they worried about her as times grew darker and war loomed.

Her brothers, all, but poor Jack with his bum leg, had been drafted to the war. Not only was there nobody to protect their sweet girl, but there was the strong possibility that Phoebe may suffer heartbreak. 

The little blonde with the tight braid would barely be able to handle the loss of her dear and darling brothers. 

Her poor little heart would shatter into little bitty pieces. 

The family had decided to take a vacation to ease their minds to The Halcyon . The sweet blonde woman had been in awe of the hotel scenery. It made her face light up with joy. It did the rest of her family well to see her break from her melancholy.

Phoebe was interested in the parks surrounding the hotel. The young woman, as she was becoming, loved being out in nature, surrounding herself with pretty blooming flowers and the natural order of things. 

Nature made more sense to her than her life. There was a routine and order. Bees pollinated. Flowers bloomed. She was drawn to it all. 

The sun barely rose when she was roused and ready to explore despite her parents still slumbering. Despite her brother still lounging on the couch, a bottle of whiskey clutched to his chest. She knew Jack coped with the absence of his younger two brothers in his own way. He had been so angry with his inability to serve his kin and country he had taken to drink. 

Secretly Phoebe had been grateful one of her brothers had been spared from the war. 

She was well dressed for adventure, a summer hat, her blonde frizzy hair braided tight, and a soft blue skirt with pressed white blouse. Phoebe tucked a blanket to Jack’s chest with a kiss on his forehead. 

“Love you.” It is what she always whispered to him these days. 

She imagined she was saying it to all the boys serving. 

Didn’t they all deserve a bit of sweetness even if they couldn’t hear it? 

She skipped out the door, shutting it softly. When the sun hit her as she planted her feet outside, the entirety of her face lit up. Phoebe always loved the first taste of sunshine on her face.

Sometimes she thought she felt too much. 

Her mother called her sensitive. 

Her father called her tender hearted. 

Her brothers called her their sweet little flower. 

Sensitive always felt a little mean. 

Tender hearted made her feel weak. 

Sweet little flower. 

That made her feel the best of all. 

Flowers were her favorite part of nature. Her brothers knew that. She would pick and arrange flowers to her heart's content. She loved reading about what each flower meant, what the purpose of them was, and most of all taking them to enjoy between the pressed pages of a notebook. She had several little notebooks she bundled like a babe in her arms as she searched for her bicycle that she had insisted they travel with. 

Flowers were strong though. That’s what she liked most about them. They fed nature with their nectar. They brightened up the world with their beauty. They grew and died and grew again. 

They were sturdy little things. 

She loved imagining herself this way. 

Sturdy, nurturing, beautiful. 

Phoebe often did not feel that last bit, beautiful. The blonde woman pulled at the strands of her braid before mounting her bicycle. No man had ever approached her for courting. Perhaps it was because she was far too sweet, but she was not without desire. She enjoyed looking at the men by the poolside at her brothers’ parties. So much so she flushed uncontrollably. 

Phoebe often wondered if her brothers scared away the young men who might court her. Maybe they thought nobody was good enough for her. However she never even saw one young man glance her way. It made her think less of herself at times. 

She began her journey to the lush landscape of a nearby park. It was the perfect scenery for a little morning escape. Phoebe had her favorite snacks in the small basket trying to steer her mind away from her lost brothers and the husband she may never have. 

Each person she saw, Phoebe greeted with a genuine smile and a good morning. Nearly every person smiled back at her sweet face. She adored bringing joy so early in the morning. Her tires hit across pebbles then blades of dew grass.One stray couple passed her walking hand in hand, a little white pup trotting between them like their proud babe. 

What she wouldn’t give to have someone hold her hand and look at her like she hung the world!

Instead she had the pretty flowers. 

She skid her yellow bicycle to a stop seeing a patch of one of her favorite flowers. Phoebe pressed the kickstand into grassy soil with the toe of her brown scoffed boots. She knelt beside the patch of Baby’s Breath. Her hands and fingertips ran through the white buds feeling each tickle at her skin. The mixture of the tiny textures and the spring sun warmed her insides. She sat there letting her worries seep out of her as if they were toxins leaving her pores. 

When she had her fill of touch, she noted the flowers least likely to survive. 

They would become her treasured memories. 

She brushed herself off patting her knees of dirt and clinging blades of grass. Phoebe made her way back to her bicycle ready to retrieve one of her journals for flower pressing. 

A whistle broke through the quietness. 

Once.

Twice. 

“Here, girl!” A male voice called out shakily. Nervous. So, very nervous. “Come here, girl! Please?” There were almost tears in the sweet boy’s voice. 

Phoebe turned to see a bellhop. The uniform was evident that he was staff from The Halcyon . He had an innocent look about him despite being so tall and strapping. He began looking through the trees and into bushes. 

“Please, please, not again.” 

Oh the poor boy!

“ ‘Suse me sir!” She abandoned her idea of flower pressing. Her feet hurried over to him as the blonde haired lad was on his hands and knees looking under a bush. “May I be of some help?” 

“Ouch!” He stuck a finger in his mouth as he turned. Oh! His eyes were quite blue. Oh? He was quite handsome up this close. “Oh Miss Sutherland!” How did he know her name? “I . . . no . . . please . . . I could not ask you to -”

“You aren’t asking. I want to help. Please?” Her little voice always seemed to get her what she wanted from her brothers. He suckled at his injured finger. “Now, what is the matter? Is it a lost pet?” 

He simply nodded looking at her wide eyed. 

“I . . .um . . . yes . . . a hotel guest’s . . . very important . . . of course not as important as your family! We were told to make sure you four were extra happy . . . oh I should not have said that.” He wiped a trickle of blood to his pants. 

“I am used to the special treatment. Price to pay having an entrepreneur for a father.” Her father had used his family money to invest in many inventions that paid off tenfold, leaving them quite well off. 

“Yes . . . I . . .” He looked about as if whatever he was looking for would magically appear. “She’s a beautiful red hound. She was distracted and . . . she was stronger than she looked.” He rotated his shoulder wincing in pain. 

Phoebe covered her mouth to hide a small giggle. 

The bellhop flushed red in embarrassment. 

“I am so sorry. It is not funny. This is your job on the line! Let’s see if we can find her. What’s her name?” She looked at the prickly bush. Soon she felt his hand against hers pushing her away from the sharp thorns. Before he could open his mouth to apologize for touching her she spoke. “Thank you, sir.” 

“It’s Billy.” He said softly. “And the dog’s name is Lucky.” 

“I’m Phoebe. It is a pleasure to meet you, Billy.” She hoped her smile eased him. It only seemed to make him redder, more embarrassed. “Let’s see if we can entice her from wherever she ran off. Shall we?” Billy only nodded his eyes cast downward to her shoes. 

Phoebe thought perhaps she might be intimidating. It could have been because her family was well off. Billy seemed a bit put off by her sudden appearance, but she REALLY wanted to help. Both him and the lost dog. 

Him more. 

She found herself a little taken by his innocence and of course the uniform . . . it made her heart flutter a bit. 

She rubbed at her cheek unconsciously before looking through the basket on her bicycle. Her nails tapped at the tin of biscuits before looking for the long reddened sticks of meat. She pulled at the wrapper letting the dry stick of jerky settle between her fingers. She presented it to Billy. 

“Pull the other half like a wishbone!” She said excitedly. Billy smirked. He pulled at the stick together with her. It split in two. 

The pair proceeded to whistle and call out for Lucky as they made their way through the park. Phoebe couldn’t help herself pointing out the rare flowers she saw, tugging Billy in different directions. 

“You really love flowers don’t you, Miss Sutherland?” His smile was so gentle and warm. It felt like the sun was shining down on her. 

“Oh yes, they are quite pretty. I love keeping them pressed together in my journals. It’s nice to look at pretty things.” 

“Well I suppose you just could look in the mirror.” 

His face reddened deeper. 

Oh. 

Oh!

He wasn’t embarrassed at all he was -

There was a soft little whimper. The pair looked to one another for a moment, their blushes evident, before making their way to the sound. The poor long haired hound had her little face stuck in a hole at the base of a tree, perhaps chasing a squirrel inside. 

“Oh poor girl.” Billy said with a sad sweet voice. 

Together they squeezed the dog’s head free. Lucky happily ate at both sticks of jerky before licking Phoebe’s face excitedly. The blonde girl giggled. She saw Billy flush again. He nabbed the leash the dog dragged. They made their way back to Phoebe’s bicycle. 

“Well, thank you again, Miss Sutherland.” He said for the fifth time. She didn’t stop his appreciation. In truth it felt quite good to be thanked for a job well done. “And I do want to apologize for . . . um . . . my forwardness . . . I shouldn’t have . . . said something like that. It was improper.” She felt a little sad by the apology. “But it wasn’t untrue. You are very, very beautiful.” His face seemed to burn at that moment. 

“No, I’m not.” She looked down, not sure why she said that. “I’m just a sweet little flower.” She shrugged before pressing her hands against the handle bar of her bicycle. 

Billy caught her hand nearly gripping it. 

“You are beautiful inside and out. Sweet all around. Do not let anyone tell you any different.” His grip was hot and needy. She wrapped her fingers around his. 

Billy didn’t apologize. 

Phoebe saw the serious look on his face. 

He meant what he said. 

For the first time, Phoebe Sutherland felt beautiful. 

Inside and out. 

[yoursweetheartsrevenge]

Reblog if you're a writer who re-reads their own work for funsies.

[yoursweetheartsrevenge]

take a break while watching this little bunny cross your dash

[yoursweetheartsrevenge]

write bad fanfic. write mediocre fanfic. write fanfic that a thousand people before you have already written. write niche fanfic. write fanfic that only a few people will read or understand. write fanfic just for you. write fanfic just for a friend. write ocs. write self-inserts. the fact that you’re taking the time and energy to put your ideas into the world is amazing and people who shame you for it need to find better ways to spend their time.

[yoursweetheartsrevenge]

Alys au and her babies 😊💗

For @hotd2025bingo ✨️ Prompt: Puffy Dress

[yoursweetheartsrevenge]

Gawd DAMN!!!!!

That was so freakin' delicious. I was blushing all over reading this.

I'm slowly spiraling into becoming an Aegon fan. But Reader being so nervous of getting killed was also low key funny. Loved her personality, very if you can't beat them join them.

Loved loved loved this!!!!

Same as it was

Aegon II X (Prostitute Reader)

Warnings after the cut

Word Count: 2432

Aegon Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Snake Banners by @arcielee

Caution Banner by @zaldritzosrose

Warnings:: dirty smut. There really isn't much plot lol. Oral (M & F Receiving) , Squirting kink, Overstim, cum play. Infidelity (technically).

A/N: This is my first attempt on Aegon and is based on some head cannons I have of him. I am totally open to any comments or suggestions about writing him.

"He's a damn usurper!" You whisper hushed to Marella.

Marella is your madame for lack of a better term.

"You're his favorite girl, and he has ordered you specifically. There is nothing I can do. " She grits her teeth and continues shuffling through dresses and holding them up against your body.

"I... I can't! When Queen Rhanyera inevitably comes to claim her throne, I'll be killed!" You bite at your fingernails, anxiety pumping through your body with such harshness you were afraid your knees would buckle.

"You place far too much importance upon yourself. You're a whore. They likely would just pass you off to someone else."

Your stomach turns at the thought. You don't mind working in the brothel. It feels safe. You have the madame and the other girls if something were to go wrong, but this, what Aegon is asking for, It's just too much.

"Why can't he just come here as he always has?" You plead with Marella desperate for her to understand your plight.

"Because he is a king at war. He can not just frolick into town and fuck a whore in his leisure time. He is being watched, and there is a bounty on his head!" Marella chooses a plain looking green dress that hugs your feminine curves. "Here put this on"

"NO! I'm not going!" You rip the dress from Marella's hands and toss it onto the bed. "If there is a bounty on his head and they come looking for that head while I am in his bed, what is to happen to me then?" You look at her expectantly with eyes wide. She couldn't possibly send you there knowing you will most likely be killed. Could she?

"You would most likely be killed. But if you do not do what he tells you to do, you could be killed right now." Marella picks the dress back up off the bed, shoving it harshly against your chest. "Die now or die later. That is your choice. King Aegon has made his choice, and that choice is to have you, up at the castle for him to call upon as he so pleases, I have grown to care for you over the years but not enough to cross the King! Now get dressed!"

You know she's right. Aegon wanted you badly enough that he sent two guards to escort you back to the keep. A place you knew you didn't belong. Queen Heleana is there. You have heard the stories of her generosity and kindness but how kind could she be to her husband's favorite whore?

Not to mention the ever so pious dowager queen, who no doubt would sooner set herself on fire then show any kindness to a whore who regularly services her married son.

"Why me?" You whimper to yourself as you drop the current brown dress you are wearing to swap it with the green one Marcella had chosen for you.

Marcella chuckles from behind you. "Never know with men. Sometimes they find that one thing they like and that's it. Whatever it is for Aegon, it seems you have it."

You roll your eyes and huff as you shake your head in disbelief. "Gods." You look up to the ceiling as soon as you have the dress on. Fighting back tears. He is going to get you killed, and you know exactly why, all because of that one thing you do in bed that he always claims is "so rare."

You straighten your back and shake out your limbs before you exit the room head held high, walking directly to the two men who had been sent to fetch you.

"Put this on." One of the men handed you a hooded cloak. You quickly put it on and lower your gaze. You were going to go with these men and hope that at some point in the future, there would be a chance for you to escape. One of the men grips your upper arm tightly as he leads you out of the brothel, and the three of you head up to the red keep. Each step bringing you closer and closer to your new life as the King's personal whore.

As soon as you breech the gate, the men move faster, and the man holding your arm pushes your head down further. Clearly, this was a mission that was to be completed without alerting other members of the royal family or council.

It is only once you are ushered into a chamber that you are finally allowed to lift your head. "Stay here." is all the man says before swiftly exiting the room.

That final bang of the heavy door slamming makes you flinch. "This is it, isn't it?" You hold your stomach feeling like the little bit of food you ate this morning might make a second appearance.

"I am going to be imprisoned in this room, as the King comes and goes as he wants." You push the hood back off of your head and look around the chamber.

It is the most beautiful room you have ever been in. Luxurious quilts are laying across the top of the large oak bed. A chaise placed strategically by the window a bookshelf to the left.

A small table and two chairs off to the side of the hearth and a wash basin in the corner of the room. If you had to make a choice in being locked up somewhere, this was probably one of the better options.

You take the cloak off and hang it over the back of one of the chairs and reach for the wine that was left on the table. You pour yourself a large cup and start to chug it, and as soon as you finish, move to pour yourself another as you hear the large door opening.

You close your eyes tight, you haven't seen him but you know it's him. That familiar chill crawls up your spine and the back of your neck, alerting you to his presence.

In truth, he is not a cruel man. As far as targaryens went, he was actually quite gentle. But he has a hunger that is incredibly hard to satiate. It's like he is empty and is desperate to fill the empty space with anything, sex, drink, food, anything he can get his hands on.

"How are you settling?" Aegon wastes no time at all quickly, wrapping his arms around your waist as he presses himself up against your back.

"Why am I here? You know you could always just send for me. " You feel him push your hair to one shoulder and start trailing soft kisses along your neck.

"Then I would have to await your arrival and hope you aren't busy with other customers." He gently nibbles up the side of your neck while sliding the flat palms of his hands up your stomach and over your breasts.

"This way, you're always right here when I need you." He presses himself tightly up against your ass. His hardness was evident through his trousers. "And I need you right now." He nips at the top of your shoulder, sending waves of pleasure through your entire being.

"And if someone asks who I am? Why I am here? In such nice chambers?" He chuckles into the crook of your neck.

"No one will ask. I'm the king I do as I like. " He whispers sensually into the shell of your ear as he pulls your dress down off your shoulders. "You know what it is I want"

You know exactly what he wants and how he wants it. That is why you are his favorite. You slide the dress the rest of the way down your form, stepping out of it.

You turn towards him a lustful gleam in your eye as you take his bottom lip between your teeth. "Of course I do your grace".

He takes your head between his hands and kisses you like you are air, and he has been suffocating. The neediness radiates off of him in waves.

You push him back and chuckle as you walk toward the bed. He might be a king and a feared man out there in the land of westeros, but in here, in this room, he is a desperate wanton fool and has no qualms with displaying it. He follows on your heels reaching his hands out trying to get hold of you once again.

You crawl onto the bed on all fours as he excitedly tears at his clothes, desperate to remove them as quickly as possible.

You stay positioned on your knees on the bed waiting for him. You have done this so many times, you know exactly how to start.

He jumps into the bed and lays down flat, pumping himself to hardness while he waits for you. "C'mon, C'mere," He whines as he reaches his hand out towards you.

You can't help but giggle at his desperation as you lift your thigh up over his head and bring your heat just above his face.

"Oh, thank you, beautiful." He says as you smother him with your cunt just the way he likes it. He dives in lapping at your soft inside while flicking your nub with his finger. His other hand pushing at your back urging you to get to work.

The feeling is overwhelmingly good, sending shocks of pleasure down your legs with tingling in your toes. You lean forward and take his cock into your mouth as he grunts loudly into your heat.

"Yessss, that is it" He growls and rubs his entire face into your cunt jamming his tongue inside your body with the finesse of an extremely practiced partner.

You moan onto his cock your drool dripping down the sides and pooling amongst the short silver hairs at its base. He moves his hips up jamming his cock further down your throat.

You make sure to take it as far as you can, fighting the urge to gag as the heat in your stomach builds up to an incredibly compact tightness.

You roll your hips dragging your cunt along his face feeling the smile he presses against your folds. He is in his favorite place burried in the cunt of his favorite whore. He harshly takes your hips in his hands pushing you down further onto his face. Lesser men would suffocate, but Aegon could breath you in all day and remain upright and alert.

He sucks and licks at your clit with precision knowing exactly how to make you topple over the edge and as soon as you do he brings his fingers to your clit and vigorously rubs in quick circles overstimulating the nerve to get exactly what he wants.

When your legs clench tight and you gasp with his cock hanging out of your mouth he knows he is about to be rewarded with his favorite treat. He opens his mouth wide as you gush over his face like a fountain, and he attempts to catch every drop.

He had accidentally found out that you were capable of such things one night down at the brothel and that is how you became his favorite whore. You always found it comical when the other girls would tell you of the borderline torturous overstimulation he would put them through just to test if they would do the same thing.

Aegon laughs with glee as he pushes you off of him. You assume the next position placing your cheek flush against the quilt of the bed, leaning your ass up in the air.

"See? Fully trained. Why wouldn't I bring you up here?" He chuckles giddily to himself as he grips your hips, placing you directly in front of him while he slowly slides himself into you. He loves to watch. He is a visual man this much you had learned. He spreads your cheeks apart so he can see clearly as his cock slides in and out, your wetness collecting at the base.

"I swear it gets better every time" He speeds up his movements gripping your cheeks harder as he continues to watch himself fuck into you with a look of utter satisfaction on his face. "This cunt. Somehow its perfect, does just what I want"

"Yes your grace" You feed into his need to be respected, you had learned that quite sometime ago, he wants to dominate, feel a sense of power and control that he just does not have in his every day life.

He ruts into you harder hitting that sweet spot with accuracy. He's been fucking you for years he knows your insides, probably better then you do at this point.

He brings one hand down around to your clit and rubs against it with moderate pressure.

"One more" He barks out with strained desperation. "C'mon"

As if Aegon's mere voice could command your body, you found yourself spiraling toward another release.

"Yes, your grace, as you wish!" You moan as he drills down into you gasping for air and rubbing your pearl furiously as once, again he makes you see stars, quickly changing the motion of his hand from a circle to a vigorous rub the overstimulation making your legs shake.

"Give me it, Give me it!" He commands, slamming into you with such force the posts of the bed shake. Everything around you slows down as the buzzing in your ears grows louder, and with one final screech, you give him what he wants and splash all over his hand and the quilt beneath you.

He then brings his wet hand up to your hip to hold you in place as he nearly impales you while chasing his peak, he reaches his end quickly with a snarl and as he does he pulls out and releases himself all over your backside spreading it over your cheeks and enjoying the shimmer of your skin covered in his spend as he rides out his high.

Aegon collapses down onto the bed with a laugh as you turn back to look at him.

"This is why you're here. War is stressful." He chuckles. "I won't have time to travel to that damned brothel as many times as I am going to need you."

"Need me?" You move up the bed careful to avoid the wet mess you had just left.

He gently strokes your cheek with his thumb. "Yes, I need you, and once I catch my breath, I think I'll need you again"

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[yoursweetheartsrevenge]

“It’s like he recognizes that, in this moment, that he is caught completely vulnerable. Belly up, the most vulnerable we’ll probably ever see Aemond, and humiliated by his brother.” — Ewan Mitchell with British Esquire

[yoursweetheartsrevenge]

Ewan Mitchell + eating

[yoursweetheartsrevenge]

EWAN MITCHELL as TOM BENNETT World on Fire S1E2

[yoursweetheartsrevenge]

One of the coolest parts about being a fan of fanfic is you can actually contact the author. And they will respond. And then you can message them nonstop until they allow you into their lives and then you’re becoming their beta reader and suddenly you know multiple authors of all types of fiction books and fanfic authors who will drag out their deleted fics for you to read at a moments notice.

Anyway. Comment on fics and message authors. It’s absolutely worth it.

[yoursweetheartsrevenge]

Blind Dates 2025 starts posting tomorrow!

Blind Dates is a festival/challenge that celebrates creating and writing original characters! The guiding principle is to do something new, and possibly challenging, and to serve as writing practice. The 2025 fest runs from February 10 to February 15th. Learn more here!

[yoursweetheartsrevenge]

NEW PAYMENT INFO

Full prepayment

An add character goes for a full price 

You can contact me through: Email  dariakonnova.art@gmail.com Tumblr -  https://www.tumblr.com/dariakonnova Bluesky - https://bsky.app/profile/dariakonnova.bsky.social

 if you're interested or have any questions feel free to dm me  Reblog are appreciated  🧡💛💚💙💜

[yoursweetheartsrevenge]

Right?! We all need a little math nerd for stress relief 🥰

Their relationship turned out so sweet. Just two little needs in love ❤️

Thank you so much for reading! Happy you enjoyed!

Stressors

Summary: End of the year at Oxford means exams, papers, and the overwhelming amount of stress that follows. Studying in the library may help Michael relieve stress, but his girlfriend has other ideas. 

Read on Ao3

Warnings: smut (praise kink, oral - f receiving, p in v sex (protected and unprotected - creampie), female masturbatation, sex toys, squirting, light spanking), anxiety, MINORS DNI, 18+ 

Word Count: 6.2K+

Author’s Note: Thanks to everyone who voted in the original poll! This idea came from a little example in the non-fiction book, Come as You Are: The Surprising New Science that Will Transform Your Sex Life by Emily Nagoski Ph.D about sex and stress. Great book (which I will definitely finish someday)! Enjoy these little horny nerds!

Stressors

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The gravity of the pencil hit against her open notebook. The eraser left notable trails of pink debris against the grayed out letters that had disappeared over the last hour. 

Or was it a couple hours?

She wasn’t sure anymore. 

Several books of different medieval texts were laid open in front of her on one of the many study tables at the university library. She hadn’t even made a decision on what her final project was. The syllabus was a sharp reminder that this project would be a large portion of her grade. 

If she completely failed the translation project, she’d still pass. 

She was a top student in her subject at Oxford, but if she failed this . . .

Where would that leave her in the rankings of other students in her field?

She ran her thumbnail over the small indentations in the number 2 pencil, bite marks indicating how truly stressed, nervous,and anxious these last weeks had been. The long phallic object let her mind wander for a moment on other things. 

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“Stop that.” Michael Gavey said beside her. 

Her boyfriend’s head was in his open palm, focused on reading his maths, occasionally scribbling notes in his well worn spiral notebook. He did not look up from his well disciplined concentration. 

He was in a similar situation. 

Should he fail or get less than a perfect score on his final project . . . well .  . .

He’d still be top of the class, but only by one point. 

Michael Gavey needed to be top of the class by more than one measly point. 

And she . . . she needed Michael Gavey to top her. 

She smoothed the pencil flat on her notes, or lack thereof. Her palms fell flat on the desktop as she leaned forward. Her fingertips turned a thick copy of text. The pages were so thin she had to be careful not to rip them. She was slowly turning each page looking for the right piece. 

She was saddened his eyes weren’t on her. Michael was still looking studious and concentrated on his work, not lustful and wanting as her ass was quite close to his face. She had worn the suede skirt for a reason she supposed. Her boyfriend had once complemented the feel of the material even burying his face against it. 

Her body grew hot at the thought of his face buried between her thighs. 

She shook out her hair as if to lose the lustful ideas she had snaking in her mind. Instead she found the work looking it over. The project was to translate a piece of literature they had read that semester back into its original language, Middle English. It should have been simple enough, at least for her, but decisions always made her wary. 

She settled back down in her seat with a bit of a thump. She thought he may look at her, but Michael remained ever focused. It was one of the things she liked so much about him. Especially the looks that crossed his face when he was deep in thought. She pressed her thighs together and nearly held her breath. 

His face was making her feel a certain way. 

She decided it would be best to pick up her pencil. The text before her nearly seemed to blur as his hot breath puffed out a bit. Her thumb stroked from the pink eraser tip down the long yellow length of the pencil. 

Pencils should NOT make her think of Michael Gavey’s dick. 

Yet here she was chewing at the metal base of the eraser. 

She nearly whimpered at the thought of replacing that pink tip for his bulbous pink tip. 

Her scribbling the first few lines down didn’t help her at all. The translation was so poor due to her inability to focus. Her legs squeezed together tighter. He shifted in his seat and she nearly lost her mind. Despite it being near to summer, Michael was still clad in a red jumper. He had told her feeling sweaty made him more concentrated and comfortable. 

Another endearing fact. 

Another reason to clench her thighs. 

She knew why she was feeling this way. 

Stress. 

Horrible, mind altering stress. 

Her heart sped up at the thought of faltering in her academic career. Her head felt weak at the idea of being less than perfect in the eyes of her Medieval Literature professor who was a harsh critic to all the class’s work, but seemed to be pleasantly surprised by how well she was as a student. She was enthusiastic about the subject, usually. She had been looking forward to this project, but now she was simply feeling the weight of the end of the year. 

Michael was too. His maths classes had been going quite well, however after a devastating last exam in which he had gotten THREE questions wrong he was having a crisis. A crisis which caused their only dates to be at the library. Sometimes they would study in each other’s rooms, but Michael had taken that option off the table. . 

“No distractions.” 

But she WAS distracted. 

Michael WAS distracting.

Maybe if she just felt some relief she could concentrate. 

She tested. Her hand slowly moved against his thigh. He was wearing jeans letting her trace the bleach splashed stains there. She rubbed softly, light on her fingers.. She grew bolder when he seemed to pay no mind to her touch, deciding to press her palm and squeeze a bit. 

Michael Gavey remained concentrated. 

Surely she could test further?

Her hand traveled to her boyfriend’s crotch taking time to stroke the edge of his member. She managed to lovingly stroke him twice before she felt his fingers wrap around her wrist.

“No.” He said moving her hand from his clothed cock to her thigh. 

He stayed his hand for a brief moment rubbing her knuckles. It was an act of comfort. It was supposed to be. He began flipping through his text, still focused on the work. His same fingers rubbed across his sweaty temple and blonde hairline. She tapped her fingers against her thigh for a moment feeling less embarrassed than needy. 

Her fingers swirled and scratched against the suede. She could not control herself. Her eyes were still focused on his crotch, his thick length laid underneath. Without thought she reached for it again, slowly, carefully. 

Maybe he wouldn’t -

“I said no.” He moved her hand again. This time a bit more forceful hitting her hand against her thigh a little hard, a little rough, a little annoyed. 

The rejection hurt. 

She felt tears gather in her eyes. Staring at him for a moment too long did not help. He merely went back to work. She saw a sliver of irritation on his face. 

It made her heart sink. 

She didn’t think. 

She acted. 

The stress was burdening her with an irrational mind. 

Her hands moved to gather her things, closing each of the books in front of her. 

SLAM

SLAM

SLAM

She scooped them into her messenger bag which she pulled from its tilted position between their seats.

THUMP 

THUMP

THUMP

“Wait,” He looked up finally. Michael was watching her hurried hands begin to gather up her chewed on pencil and notebook stained with eraser debris. “Where are you going?” 

At least he was paying attention now. 

She couldn’t speak. 

She wasn’t sure if it was anger or merely frustration from her own body’s pulsating desire that made those tears pool at the edge of her eyes. 

“Did I do something wrong?” 

She couldn’t stay. 

Her brain completely melted at the needy little words that escaped his mouth. All her things were packed. The flap to the bag flipped close. Michael’s fingertips were pressed to the papers and opened thick textbook. 

She couldn’t look at him. 

She left him in the library nearly stomping her way back to her dorm room. 

Her wrist wiped across her eyes, trailing tears across the bridge of her nose. Her body had just acted. She couldn’t sit next to him and continue to be rejected. Not when she felt as if she might tear her skin off if he didn’t touch her. Being so close to him was too much to bare and she desperately needed release. 

The stress. 

This stupid stress. 

It was building up in her body making her face hot. It made her brain foggy with not only desire but thoughts that remained ill advised, such as trying to fondle her boyfriend’s cock in the library when he clearly was not interested. 

“Stupid, stupid.” She repeated to herself making herself walk faster. 

On the way she recounted her relationship with resident Oxford math genius, Michael Gavey. She hadn’t made many friends at Oxford her first few months, but that was no problem for her. University wasn’t a place to make friends. It was a place to learn. Still her dorm mate always invited her out and they got along pretty well. She made some casual girl friends in her literature classes. 

The first interaction she had with Michael was when she had gotten rather ill in the middle of the fall semester. She had missed a really important lecture in one of her classes. It wasn’t a class where she had made many friends so she merely relied on going to the person who sat beside her in class for notes. 

Oliver Quick was a literature student too. She would occasionally look at him, noting that he seemed to take excellent notes. The notes seemed legible from what she could tell and he edged her on top student in that class. It had been too early in the year to be competitive. 

She had cornered Oliver and his friend, a blonde vaguely attractive looking student with square shaped wire glasses during dinner in the dining hall. When she had started to speak�� she realized that the friend was the top math student, Michael Gavey. She wasn’t a maths student, but she could appreciate a passionate mind and eager learner. Up closer as she asked Oliver for his notes on the previous week’s lecture, she peeked at the way Michael seemed to ignore her continuing to widely open his mouth while dining on braised beef. 

She remembered the smell of it hitting her the moment his curious eyes peered up at her. He suddenly seemed mindful of how loudly he was chewing once he looked up at her. It made her blush a bit seeing how his blue eyes reflected in his glasses at that moment. He had quietly commended her on picking Oliver to receive her notes from declaring his handwriting and attention to detail were excellent. 

She had gotten the notes, but more importantly she had developed a bit of a crush there and then. 

She had excitedly told herself that agreeing on Oliver’s note taking skills made them an ideal match. Clearly they had similar priorities. It made her head spin a bit. She had not been distracted, nor had she approached Michael again until Oliver had swiftly abandoned him for his fifteen minutes of fame with Felix Catton. 

She hadn’t witnessed the end to the friendship, only the aftermath. 

She had been studying late one evening in the beginning of the new year at the library.

She had been looking for literature to read be ahead in one of her classes. Nobody ever frequented the library as late as she did. That was until she had wandered over to the section she needed, where Michael was seated, wrappers of Crunchie bars nearly overflowing his table top as he read from several open maths texts. 

She dared to approach him. Still a girl with a bit of a crush, she told him she thought it silly they were the only students in the library sitting on opposite sides of the building. It would save space and the librarian time not having to travel across the library to inform them of the library’s closure. They should sit together at the same table. They should study together. 

Michael had agreed. 

So began their friendship. 

He would share his Crunchies and she would share her little fig rolls. Michael later told her he thought the fruit was too tart, but he really enjoyed how she made happy little noises as she bit into their softness. They would talk about their lectures and their days as they grew more comfortable with one another. They would even argue about philosophy and subjects they both were passionate about. 

She had asked him out on Valentine’s Day. 

“I’m attracted to you. I know tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, but I would really like to go out with you.” She had asked, books tucked against her chest before their typical after dinner study session. 

Michael had simply said yes. He appreciated her forwardness and agreed he too was attracted to her. She even saw a hint of a blush. 

They had gone out to an Italian pizzeria a short distance from campus.

“I know it is customary to wait until the end of the date, but,” He had asked before they had entered the quick service place. His breath was fogging his glasses. His wool coat was tight against his body showing off a bit of his figure. “I really would like to kiss you. If that is alright.” 

It had been more than alright. 

She had told him as such. 

She thought she had never seen a person so happy then the first few seconds before Michael Gavey kissed her for the first time. 

It had been awkward at first, a lean and peck, but they soon learned after a short time how they each like to be kissed.

From that evening onward, the pair had been inseparable. 

They still had their after dinner study sessions, but they held hands now. Occasionally they would snuggle or peck when the moment seemed to take them. When he could Michael would walk her to her classes. He seemed to love holding her hand. It was smaller than his, but fit so perfectly there. 

They began to have study sessions in their respective dorms, taking turns on who would host. It led into movie nights with occasional cuddles and make out sessions. She always felt flattered when it got too heavy and Michael would ask for them to stop. He often got too worked up, but told her he didn’t want to lose himself in front of her like all the other beasts on campus. 

“You are too special to me. I want our first time to be something thoughtful, not baseline animalistic instincts.” He was sweet saying it. 

But sometimes she wished he would lose himself to her. 

She knew he wanted to. She felt how much he wanted to. 

They had confided in each other they were both virgins. As Michael said, he wanted their first time to be special. 

The timing had been special. It was the weekend of a big party Catton was throwing. They’d be nearly alone on campus. They decided on Michael’s dorm as he had no dorm mate to potentially walk in on them. He had tried his best to plan it out, but everything seemed to have gone wrong. 

The Chinese take away order had been wrong leaving them with an order she could not eat due to allergies so they shared a small side of noodles, both too awkward and pent up to complain or order elsewhere. 

The candles he had bought had nearly set off the fire alarm and burnt his curtains. 

The roses he bought did not survive the day and were wilted. 

It was all a bit funny looking back at it. 

The pair of them half expected the sex to be awful as well. 

That had been the best part though it had started off as less than perfect that first time. 

She opened her dorm door letting herself fling back to the present. The messenger bag fell as she shut the door behind her. She quickly let her body go for the vibrator snuggled tucked in the cabinet above her desk thinking of that first time. 

Neither knew what they were doing, but they were not afraid to let each other know what they wanted. She liked to be touched. Michael knew this. He knew exactly where to touch her to have her make those little sweet noises that he liked. The noises that made him rock hard in seconds. She knew he liked to have his hair tugged when she kissed him. 

When he had been on top of her, slowly easing his condom clad member inside her she had tugged on his hair as reassurance he was doing good. It had been jolting to feel his cock twitch inside her. She had squealed out a bit excitedly. The sex hadn’t been long that first time. He had finished in a few thrusts. He had been so disappointed in himself for doing a poor job at his first time, but they had all night and an absurd amount of condoms. 

Each time had gotten better and better. 

The last time before they both fell asleep completely enwrapped in each other’s arms, she had been crying out his name hoarsely as he fucked her into the mattress making her squirt all over his bed sheets. 

From then on they included sex in their routine. 

It had never been a chore, always a joyous little treat to the end of a hard day. 

The vibrator had been bought by Michael. 

He wanted something his girlfriend could play with and that he could use on her. The thought intrigued him. They had gone to a local sex shop having studied different types together on the internet. They both agreed to something with a similar girth and length to his cock, even measuring his member out to get an idea of what they needed. The little research project had bonded them further. 

She held what they had purchased together in her hands. It was white at the base with a slender tip that was ribbed resembling a fuschia pink tongue. She reached under her skirt to palm her wet panties. She flushed a bit embarrassed as she settled on her bed touching herself through the lace of her soaked panties. Her clit was throbbing, making her whimper as she slowly snaked her hand under the material. 

The vibrator was nearly forgotten as she began to touch herself. However after a few moments she felt uneasy. 

It wasn’t enough. 

She lubed up the vibrator turning it on. She tried to work it on herself. She felt nothing. The vibrator was tossed angrily on the bed letting it bounce slightly on her comforter. 

ABSOLUTELY FUCKIN NOTHING. 

She could nearly cry. 

She could nearly scream. 

All she wanted was to release, to cum, but nothing was doing it for her like - 

Two soft knocks came at the door followed by a pause. 

An even softer knock followed. 

Her body was vibrating to be touched, to seek relief. 

But she knew how awful she had left things. 

“Hi.” He said softly when she opened the door. “Can I come in?” He was slumped looking a bit pathetic and painfully adorable with his own messenger bag slung at his side. 

She merely stepped aside. 

“Whatever I did,” He started looking her in the face as she closed the door softly. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight.” They rarely did. When they did it was over subjects that didn’t matter. Hardly anything ever relating to their relationship, though it was still young. 

Her eyes shifted to the abandoned sex toy on the bed. 

His eyes locked on the vibrator on the bed. 

“Oh,” He said with a realization. “Is that why you . . . I see.” She stood with her shoulders slightly pushed in. “This is my fault.” 

“No, no, it’s mine. I touched you without permission. I’ve been so stressed. So out of focus on my work. I just needed release. I didn’t think, just behaved like an absolute -” 

“Come here,” Michael wrapped her in his arms, squeezing her. She squeezed him back. “I’m feeling stressed as well, but you said you needed release? I’m stressed too, but I can’t . . . ” 

It was then that she realized it. 

“Oh?” She pushed away from him looking at his face. “Does stress make you . . .unable to . . .?” The question hung in the air embarrassing him to make his face flush. . 

“We seem to have different reactions to pressure.” Michael said with a nod. 

“It’d be fascinating if I didn’t want to fuck you so bad.” Her smile was half quirked. He chuckled. “This has always been something I have dealt with. I usually masturbate. I cum and I can focus again, but,” She looked at him, feeling her teeth nibble at her lower lip with desire. “Since we started dating, all I want is you. Toys aren’t enough sometimes. And I couldn’t . . .I don’t know. I just want to not feel this way anymore. I feel so, so stupid not being able to focus.” 

She could cry or tear out her own hair from the sheer pulsating need to feel something inside her. 

“No, you are not stupid!” He assured her. “You are absolutely brilliant and you will have your mind back.” He scratched the back of his head feeling the edge where hair met flesh. “I might not be able to . . . achieve an erection.” There was a fact. Michael Gavey’s cock couldn’t get hard when he was stressed. She couldn’t be any wetter standing here watching him struggle to promise a compromise. “But I can still help. If that’s what you -”

“Yes!” She embarrassed herself by saying it too quickly and too loudly.  

Michael laughed. 

“Lie on the bed. Take off the skirt and your panties. Let me take care of you.” 

She could fuckin’ cum at those words alone.

Alas she didn’t. 

When she did as he told her he smiled watching her hair spray across the pillow. He adjusted his glasses. He climbed on bed after removing his shoes and placing them at the door. Michael happily straddled her slightly. 

“Such a good girl.” He praised. “My good, sweet, smart, absolutely brilliant girl.” Michael brushed his hand against her cheek letting his thumb slowly ease into her mouth. 

She felt her pussy flutter at what she liked. 

Suckling his thumb. 

Being praised. 

“Spread those beautiful legs for me, darling.” She did. He hummed in approval. “Look at you. So wet. You really are a horny little thing when you’re stressed, hmmm. Tell me how much you need me.” 

“So much.” She moaned, feeling her body tremble. 

“Oh, my love,” He kissed her inner thigh. “Where are those beautiful flowery words I love so much? Give them to me.” 

“So badly. I can’t think of anything else, but you, your tongue, your cock. I need it so desperately. I feel trapped in my own body, vibrating against my will. I want to tear the flesh from my body. I need you so bad, Michael.” She swallowed watching as tears formed under his eyes. He slowly kissed her thigh again. 

“I hate seeing you like this, sweetheart.” His lips were soft against her slit. “Let me help you relieve all that stress.” 

He suckled there at her center. She could feel his tongue flicker against her. 

Her mind felt blank. 

No thoughts of poor grades. 

No reeling words to translate. 

No pressure or thoughts of anything other than Michael Gavey’s tongue and lips making her coo and sigh. 

His hot breath encouraged her. She felt him swirl his tongue slowly easing its way inside her. While Michael had not been well practiced in anything sexual when they had started exploring themselves months earlier, he was determined to become as well practiced with her cunt as he was with the algebraic equations he so loved. He was certainly showing off his skills at this moment. 

His lips found her engorged clit with little effort. 

Michael gave hard wet suckling pops making her insides bubble. 

She called his name letting her hands wander into his hair. She pulled on it and grabbed a tuff at the base of his scalp yanking with tenderness. He moaned approvingly, but simply continued. She secretly hoped he would forget about the stress that was troubling him and be able to achieve her desire, him inside her. 

He continued to bare down on her. His hand moved to squeeze both her thighs moving them up to get better access to her cunt. His noises were lewd, making her wetter as he devoured her. 

“Michael, I’m . . . please.” Her words fumbled from her mouth. Her moans grew higher, more fevered and desperate. 

His tongue worked along her slit producing more arousal as she cried out. There was that familiar build up in her. Michael was working to get it free, growing more intense by the moment squeezing her thighs, running his thumbs over little dimples he adored. 

Different pressure clouded her mind. 

She was only this loud when he was going down on her. 

He always adored her little pleasurable cries. 

She knew it made him feel appreciated, that he was doing such a good job. 

Her hand let go of his hair to squeeze the sheets and mattress. 

The release sprang out of her, harsh and  loud. 

She hadn’t realized she had squirted until she saw droplets on Michael’s glasses and a smear of wet patch against her sheets. 

Her breath laid out heavy. Soft satisfied coos left her lips. Curiously she looked to his crotch as he sat up on his knees. As he cleaned off his glasses on his sweater she saw with disappointment there was no needy bulge. 

“Do you feel better?” He wondered, adjusting his glasses back on his face. 

She nodded. 

“We should change your sheets.” He started to stand. Michael offered his hand, but upon seeing her lazy love drunk eyes and the heaving of her chest merely took in the sight. 

“Mmmm . . . feels too good to move. Can we cuddle for a few moments? We can clean the sheets after and maybe get some dinner and continue our studying. I think I can focus now. Just need to hold you.” 

There was no hesitation. 

Not even the wet patch and the smell of sex coating the air could stop him from snuggling into her arms. 

She felt so relieved. 

***

She was waiting for him outside his last class. 

Most students had finished earlier that week running off to summer getaways and after parties. They had been reluctant to participate in the Trashing earlier that week since their professors had planned extra work on purpose to make the tradition seem less celebratory. Neither could have carried less about this particular tradition. 

The stress melted from her leaving a pleasant satisfaction after she handed in her brick sized translation. She had finally settled on a work of literature after dinner that night, breaking out a handwritten translation of seventy seven pages in two hours. 

Michael had been so, so proud of her when she had received her final mark. 

The highest in her class! 

Her professor even remarked it was the highest score he had given on the tough project. Michael had smothered her with kisses, on her neck, on her lips, on her chin, anywhere he could gain access to in a public setting. 

He still had one more final. 

She was buzzing with excitement at the prospect of him achieving the same level of satisfaction she had. 

Her cute floral dress barely hit her knees flaring out. It was soft to the touch and a bit see through in some spots. She would have never worn it with tons of people on campus, but here with only a handful of maths students vibrating with final exam anxiety she could manage being a bit embarrassed if they saw her teal bra and panties. 

Students flooded out of the hall as she looked for her nerd outside the building. She curled her toes looking forward, finding her bespectacled boyfriend in the crowd. He was wearing a short sleeved button up, blue with light checkered white stripes. She could see him fiddling with the flash drive on his belt. She waved at him, noting his serious face. When he looked at her there was a strong sense of release. 

He nearly raced toward her, colliding into her. He grabbed her and spun her around. 

Michael peppered her with kisses again. 

“It was a breeze!” He said accidentally or on purpose, feeling her up. “I passed with flying colors!” His confidence always made her very turned on. 

She rewarded him with a deep kiss. 

He kissed her back using more tongue than he usually did. 

That’s when she felt it. 

“Oh!” She was a bit surprised at his hardness, very evident as he pressed himself against her. 

He gave her a proud smile. 

“I very much want to.” He said, swallowing looking at her lips. “Now, please.” 

“In public?!” She nearly shouted. 

“No, of course not. At least not today.” His eyebrows wiggled. He took her hand not bothering to hide the evidence of his arousal. There were hardly any people around anyway. “Your dorm is closer.” 

They walked quickly. She giggled as he squeezed her ass complimenting her on her outstanding genetics and her softness. He would occasionally mutter how much he wanted her and how absurd his body was at not being able to get himself worked up when she wanted to jump him days earlier. 

“Nothing to be ashamed of. Our bodies react differently to stress. It’s what makes us unique and precious.” She had booped him on the nose. 

He nearly growled, kissing her as he shoved her into her dorm. She mumbled against his lips. He threw his messenger bag to the floor gripping at her back side. 

“I don’t have any bedding.” She said between kisses, wet and sloppy and the neediest she had ever felt him. 

“That’s alright.”

She had already stripped her bed. Most of her things were boxed up ready to be transported back home. Her parents would be picking her up soon. They’d be meeting Michael for the first time. 

All that information was very clear and present in her head, but the fact that his hands were very pleasantly squeezing her behind was pushing reason and ration away. She moaned against him. He smiled against her lips. 

“Can I give it a little smack?” He squeezed her, nearly humping her thigh from the angle he was currently at. 

“Yes, please.” 

Instantly she felt the sharp sensation of Michael’s open palm against the fat of her round bottom. She couldn’t help giggling. Especially since he was giving her playful little nipping kisses. 

“No, no,” She said, pushing him off. He whimpered sadly. “My parents are coming. Nothing visible today.” He nodded as if finally realizing himself what was to follow when they left this room. “How do you want me?” 

With that Michael grinned. He was looking so pleasantly excited and pent up she swore he probably would burst. 

Had this been how she looked? 

It didn’t matter to her; it was so endearing to see how much he truly desired her. 

“I . . . I don’t know.” She knew Michael wasn’t used to being asked what he wanted. “How about you get on the bed and then we’ll go from there, alright, my love?” 

She nodded ready to obey. 

He gave her another encouraging spank, slightly harder as she sauntered over to the bed. She pulled the soft cotton floral dress over her head revealing her teal bra and panty set. Michael was practically drooling as she laid back on the bed letting her hair fan across the pillow. He shifted and struggled to pull off his shoes and socks. She was glad he moved closer because she assisted with his belt. She unnotched his flash drive and placed it in the pocket of his khakis. 

“I don’t want it breaking. It has that research you like on there still. Those rare papers?” He nodded at her words looking at her solemnly stopping his movement as if a deer caught in headlights. 

“What? Are they not on there anymore?” She blinked confused. 

“I . . . I love you.” He brushed her hair from her face. 

“Because I remembered to protect your flash drive?” She asked with a wicked teasing smile. 

“You know why.” He leaned forward to kiss her. 

She did. 

They knew each other. 

They knew each other so well. 

She was his best friend and he was hers. 

“I love you too. You know that right?” Her fingers teased at his zipper and button of his pants. She looked up from under her lashes fluttering them with a tease. 

This was the first time they had said those words to one another, but she had known from the moment that he asked her to kiss him before their date even began that they were going to fall in love with one another. 

“Yes.” He breathed out as she released his bulge from the confines of his pants. “Please, I need you. I want you.” 

She petted his black boxers. He shifted to step out of his khakis before bending down to retrieve a condom from the back pocket. 

“Umm, would it be okay . . . if we . . .didn’t use it . . . just this once?” She said nibbling at her lip. 

She really wanted to feel him fully. 

Michael knew she was on the pill. 

She knew it may be stupid asking, but she wanted to feel him. She wanted to feel him drip out of her. 

“You sure? I mean, if you get pregnant of course I would . . . I’d be there, but . . . I would like to as well. Maybe just the once?” They were all about being rational, but sometimes rationality got in the way of desire. 

Her fingers teased his bulge as he straightened up. She could feel him leaking as she found his tip. His precum wet his dark boxers, staining them even darker. Her lips kissed there. 

“I can’t . . . I’m going to . . .” He moaned deep and loud. His cock was twitching. 

She released him seeing his cock was so stiff it bounced to greet her. She had never been so close to his member. Usually they had sex or he went down on her. He had never expected her to return the favor. Never thought she would, but seeing it so close to her face made her mouth water in an odd way. She gave his tip a kiss, swirling her tongue along the small slit there. 

“No, please, I want to, but . . . I want to . . .” Michael seemed nearly pained trying to express himself. 

“Do you want to fuck me, Michael Gavey?” 

Pants and the removal of his shirt were the only answer.

“Then claim what is yours.” Her head lulled back against the pillow. 

The pain of how hard his cock was made him hiss as he straddled her. It made him act quicker. He lifted her up unhooking her bra with expert ease. He notched his thumbs at the sides of her panties pulling them down with little effort. He still felt the same when he sheathed himself inside her. He was warm and pleasantly thick though she could feel him a bit more, all of him. She whimpered with need as he sank himself slower and slower inside her until he bottomed out. 

He wasted no time in fucking her into the bare mattress. It was the closest she would ever see to Michael Gavey focusing on his primal needs. He liked kissing her as he fucked her and this instance was no different. She pulled at his hair as he buried himself inside her moving in a rhythm that they both liked. She was surprised that he was lasting as long as he did. 

“I love you so much.” He said as if reading her mind. “I  . . . want to hold on . . . I think I can.” 

“You’re doing so good. You feel so good. You don’t have to hold on.” She could feel herself getting close. She knew he could too. 

“But . . .” 

“Michael!” She called out. She was panting. 

Her walls fluttered around him as she let go. She felt him spill inside her. Her favorite noises were when he lost control. He was so straight laced and professional. Hearing him whine and breath out his release was the sexiest noise on Earth. She felt him slowly pull out of her. His fingers pressed on either side of her pussy lips. 

He watched his cum leak out of her, white and sticky. 

She felt it drip from her.

Her body hummed in approval. 

“So beautiful. All mine.” Possessive Michael was also a favorite of hers. She loved being his. 

“No more stress.” She tousled his hair causing his attention to go from her cum drenched pussy to her pretty cum drunk face. “Just you and me and a stress free summer.” 

Michael Gavey nodded leaning forward. He held her against his chest. 

“No more stressors.” He agreed with a final sweet kiss on her forehead.

taglist: @hangmanscoming, @queen-of-elves

[yoursweetheartsrevenge]

AEMOND TARGARYEN in HOUSE OF THE DRAGON (2022-) Episode 1.08, "The Lord of the Tides"

[yoursweetheartsrevenge]

Stressors

Summary: End of the year at Oxford means exams, papers, and the overwhelming amount of stress that follows. Studying in the library may help Michael relieve stress, but his girlfriend has other ideas. 

Read on Ao3

Warnings: smut (praise kink, oral - f receiving, p in v sex (protected and unprotected - creampie), female masturbatation, sex toys, squirting, light spanking), anxiety, MINORS DNI, 18+ 

Word Count: 6.2K+

Author’s Note: Thanks to everyone who voted in the original poll! This idea came from a little example in the non-fiction book, Come as You Are: The Surprising New Science that Will Transform Your Sex Life by Emily Nagoski Ph.D about sex and stress. Great book (which I will definitely finish someday)! Enjoy these little horny nerds!

Stressors

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The gravity of the pencil hit against her open notebook. The eraser left notable trails of pink debris against the grayed out letters that had disappeared over the last hour. 

Or was it a couple hours?

She wasn’t sure anymore. 

Several books of different medieval texts were laid open in front of her on one of the many study tables at the university library. She hadn’t even made a decision on what her final project was. The syllabus was a sharp reminder that this project would be a large portion of her grade. 

If she completely failed the translation project, she’d still pass. 

She was a top student in her subject at Oxford, but if she failed this . . .

Where would that leave her in the rankings of other students in her field?

She ran her thumbnail over the small indentations in the number 2 pencil, bite marks indicating how truly stressed, nervous,and anxious these last weeks had been. The long phallic object let her mind wander for a moment on other things. 

Tap

Tap

Tap

“Stop that.” Michael Gavey said beside her. 

Her boyfriend’s head was in his open palm, focused on reading his maths, occasionally scribbling notes in his well worn spiral notebook. He did not look up from his well disciplined concentration. 

He was in a similar situation. 

Should he fail or get less than a perfect score on his final project . . . well .  . .

He’d still be top of the class, but only by one point. 

Michael Gavey needed to be top of the class by more than one measly point. 

And she . . . she needed Michael Gavey to top her. 

She smoothed the pencil flat on her notes, or lack thereof. Her palms fell flat on the desktop as she leaned forward. Her fingertips turned a thick copy of text. The pages were so thin she had to be careful not to rip them. She was slowly turning each page looking for the right piece. 

She was saddened his eyes weren’t on her. Michael was still looking studious and concentrated on his work, not lustful and wanting as her ass was quite close to his face. She had worn the suede skirt for a reason she supposed. Her boyfriend had once complemented the feel of the material even burying his face against it. 

Her body grew hot at the thought of his face buried between her thighs. 

She shook out her hair as if to lose the lustful ideas she had snaking in her mind. Instead she found the work looking it over. The project was to translate a piece of literature they had read that semester back into its original language, Middle English. It should have been simple enough, at least for her, but decisions always made her wary. 

She settled back down in her seat with a bit of a thump. She thought he may look at her, but Michael remained ever focused. It was one of the things she liked so much about him. Especially the looks that crossed his face when he was deep in thought. She pressed her thighs together and nearly held her breath. 

His face was making her feel a certain way. 

She decided it would be best to pick up her pencil. The text before her nearly seemed to blur as his hot breath puffed out a bit. Her thumb stroked from the pink eraser tip down the long yellow length of the pencil. 

Pencils should NOT make her think of Michael Gavey’s dick. 

Yet here she was chewing at the metal base of the eraser. 

She nearly whimpered at the thought of replacing that pink tip for his bulbous pink tip. 

Her scribbling the first few lines down didn’t help her at all. The translation was so poor due to her inability to focus. Her legs squeezed together tighter. He shifted in his seat and she nearly lost her mind. Despite it being near to summer, Michael was still clad in a red jumper. He had told her feeling sweaty made him more concentrated and comfortable. 

Another endearing fact. 

Another reason to clench her thighs. 

She knew why she was feeling this way. 

Stress. 

Horrible, mind altering stress. 

Her heart sped up at the thought of faltering in her academic career. Her head felt weak at the idea of being less than perfect in the eyes of her Medieval Literature professor who was a harsh critic to all the class’s work, but seemed to be pleasantly surprised by how well she was as a student. She was enthusiastic about the subject, usually. She had been looking forward to this project, but now she was simply feeling the weight of the end of the year. 

Michael was too. His maths classes had been going quite well, however after a devastating last exam in which he had gotten THREE questions wrong he was having a crisis. A crisis which caused their only dates to be at the library. Sometimes they would study in each other’s rooms, but Michael had taken that option off the table. . 

“No distractions.” 

But she WAS distracted. 

Michael WAS distracting.

Maybe if she just felt some relief she could concentrate. 

She tested. Her hand slowly moved against his thigh. He was wearing jeans letting her trace the bleach splashed stains there. She rubbed softly, light on her fingers.. She grew bolder when he seemed to pay no mind to her touch, deciding to press her palm and squeeze a bit. 

Michael Gavey remained concentrated. 

Surely she could test further?

Her hand traveled to her boyfriend’s crotch taking time to stroke the edge of his member. She managed to lovingly stroke him twice before she felt his fingers wrap around her wrist.

“No.” He said moving her hand from his clothed cock to her thigh. 

He stayed his hand for a brief moment rubbing her knuckles. It was an act of comfort. It was supposed to be. He began flipping through his text, still focused on the work. His same fingers rubbed across his sweaty temple and blonde hairline. She tapped her fingers against her thigh for a moment feeling less embarrassed than needy. 

Her fingers swirled and scratched against the suede. She could not control herself. Her eyes were still focused on his crotch, his thick length laid underneath. Without thought she reached for it again, slowly, carefully. 

Maybe he wouldn’t -

“I said no.” He moved her hand again. This time a bit more forceful hitting her hand against her thigh a little hard, a little rough, a little annoyed. 

The rejection hurt. 

She felt tears gather in her eyes. Staring at him for a moment too long did not help. He merely went back to work. She saw a sliver of irritation on his face. 

It made her heart sink. 

She didn’t think. 

She acted. 

The stress was burdening her with an irrational mind. 

Her hands moved to gather her things, closing each of the books in front of her. 

SLAM

SLAM

SLAM

She scooped them into her messenger bag which she pulled from its tilted position between their seats.

THUMP 

THUMP

THUMP

“Wait,” He looked up finally. Michael was watching her hurried hands begin to gather up her chewed on pencil and notebook stained with eraser debris. “Where are you going?” 

At least he was paying attention now. 

She couldn’t speak. 

She wasn’t sure if it was anger or merely frustration from her own body’s pulsating desire that made those tears pool at the edge of her eyes. 

“Did I do something wrong?” 

She couldn’t stay. 

Her brain completely melted at the needy little words that escaped his mouth. All her things were packed. The flap to the bag flipped close. Michael’s fingertips were pressed to the papers and opened thick textbook. 

She couldn’t look at him. 

She left him in the library nearly stomping her way back to her dorm room. 

Her wrist wiped across her eyes, trailing tears across the bridge of her nose. Her body had just acted. She couldn’t sit next to him and continue to be rejected. Not when she felt as if she might tear her skin off if he didn’t touch her. Being so close to him was too much to bare and she desperately needed release. 

The stress. 

This stupid stress. 

It was building up in her body making her face hot. It made her brain foggy with not only desire but thoughts that remained ill advised, such as trying to fondle her boyfriend’s cock in the library when he clearly was not interested. 

“Stupid, stupid.” She repeated to herself making herself walk faster. 

On the way she recounted her relationship with resident Oxford math genius, Michael Gavey. She hadn’t made many friends at Oxford her first few months, but that was no problem for her. University wasn’t a place to make friends. It was a place to learn. Still her dorm mate always invited her out and they got along pretty well. She made some casual girl friends in her literature classes. 

The first interaction she had with Michael was when she had gotten rather ill in the middle of the fall semester. She had missed a really important lecture in one of her classes. It wasn’t a class where she had made many friends so she merely relied on going to the person who sat beside her in class for notes. 

Oliver Quick was a literature student too. She would occasionally look at him, noting that he seemed to take excellent notes. The notes seemed legible from what she could tell and he edged her on top student in that class. It had been too early in the year to be competitive. 

She had cornered Oliver and his friend, a blonde vaguely attractive looking student with square shaped wire glasses during dinner in the dining hall. When she had started to speak  she realized that the friend was the top math student, Michael Gavey. She wasn’t a maths student, but she could appreciate a passionate mind and eager learner. Up closer as she asked Oliver for his notes on the previous week’s lecture, she peeked at the way Michael seemed to ignore her continuing to widely open his mouth while dining on braised beef. 

She remembered the smell of it hitting her the moment his curious eyes peered up at her. He suddenly seemed mindful of how loudly he was chewing once he looked up at her. It made her blush a bit seeing how his blue eyes reflected in his glasses at that moment. He had quietly commended her on picking Oliver to receive her notes from declaring his handwriting and attention to detail were excellent. 

She had gotten the notes, but more importantly she had developed a bit of a crush there and then. 

She had excitedly told herself that agreeing on Oliver’s note taking skills made them an ideal match. Clearly they had similar priorities. It made her head spin a bit. She had not been distracted, nor had she approached Michael again until Oliver had swiftly abandoned him for his fifteen minutes of fame with Felix Catton. 

She hadn’t witnessed the end to the friendship, only the aftermath. 

She had been studying late one evening in the beginning of the new year at the library.

She had been looking for literature to read be ahead in one of her classes. Nobody ever frequented the library as late as she did. That was until she had wandered over to the section she needed, where Michael was seated, wrappers of Crunchie bars nearly overflowing his table top as he read from several open maths texts. 

She dared to approach him. Still a girl with a bit of a crush, she told him she thought it silly they were the only students in the library sitting on opposite sides of the building. It would save space and the librarian time not having to travel across the library to inform them of the library’s closure. They should sit together at the same table. They should study together. 

Michael had agreed. 

So began their friendship. 

He would share his Crunchies and she would share her little fig rolls. Michael later told her he thought the fruit was too tart, but he really enjoyed how she made happy little noises as she bit into their softness. They would talk about their lectures and their days as they grew more comfortable with one another. They would even argue about philosophy and subjects they both were passionate about. 

She had asked him out on Valentine’s Day. 

“I’m attracted to you. I know tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, but I would really like to go out with you.” She had asked, books tucked against her chest before their typical after dinner study session. 

Michael had simply said yes. He appreciated her forwardness and agreed he too was attracted to her. She even saw a hint of a blush. 

They had gone out to an Italian pizzeria a short distance from campus.

“I know it is customary to wait until the end of the date, but,” He had asked before they had entered the quick service place. His breath was fogging his glasses. His wool coat was tight against his body showing off a bit of his figure. “I really would like to kiss you. If that is alright.” 

It had been more than alright. 

She had told him as such. 

She thought she had never seen a person so happy then the first few seconds before Michael Gavey kissed her for the first time. 

It had been awkward at first, a lean and peck, but they soon learned after a short time how they each like to be kissed.

From that evening onward, the pair had been inseparable. 

They still had their after dinner study sessions, but they held hands now. Occasionally they would snuggle or peck when the moment seemed to take them. When he could Michael would walk her to her classes. He seemed to love holding her hand. It was smaller than his, but fit so perfectly there. 

They began to have study sessions in their respective dorms, taking turns on who would host. It led into movie nights with occasional cuddles and make out sessions. She always felt flattered when it got too heavy and Michael would ask for them to stop. He often got too worked up, but told her he didn’t want to lose himself in front of her like all the other beasts on campus. 

“You are too special to me. I want our first time to be something thoughtful, not baseline animalistic instincts.” He was sweet saying it. 

But sometimes she wished he would lose himself to her. 

She knew he wanted to. She felt how much he wanted to. 

They had confided in each other they were both virgins. As Michael said, he wanted their first time to be special. 

The timing had been special. It was the weekend of a big party Catton was throwing. They’d be nearly alone on campus. They decided on Michael’s dorm as he had no dorm mate to potentially walk in on them. He had tried his best to plan it out, but everything seemed to have gone wrong. 

The Chinese take away order had been wrong leaving them with an order she could not eat due to allergies so they shared a small side of noodles, both too awkward and pent up to complain or order elsewhere. 

The candles he had bought had nearly set off the fire alarm and burnt his curtains. 

The roses he bought did not survive the day and were wilted. 

It was all a bit funny looking back at it. 

The pair of them half expected the sex to be awful as well. 

That had been the best part though it had started off as less than perfect that first time. 

She opened her dorm door letting herself fling back to the present. The messenger bag fell as she shut the door behind her. She quickly let her body go for the vibrator snuggled tucked in the cabinet above her desk thinking of that first time. 

Neither knew what they were doing, but they were not afraid to let each other know what they wanted. She liked to be touched. Michael knew this. He knew exactly where to touch her to have her make those little sweet noises that he liked. The noises that made him rock hard in seconds. She knew he liked to have his hair tugged when she kissed him. 

When he had been on top of her, slowly easing his condom clad member inside her she had tugged on his hair as reassurance he was doing good. It had been jolting to feel his cock twitch inside her. She had squealed out a bit excitedly. The sex hadn’t been long that first time. He had finished in a few thrusts. He had been so disappointed in himself for doing a poor job at his first time, but they had all night and an absurd amount of condoms. 

Each time had gotten better and better. 

The last time before they both fell asleep completely enwrapped in each other’s arms, she had been crying out his name hoarsely as he fucked her into the mattress making her squirt all over his bed sheets. 

From then on they included sex in their routine. 

It had never been a chore, always a joyous little treat to the end of a hard day. 

The vibrator had been bought by Michael. 

He wanted something his girlfriend could play with and that he could use on her. The thought intrigued him. They had gone to a local sex shop having studied different types together on the internet. They both agreed to something with a similar girth and length to his cock, even measuring his member out to get an idea of what they needed. The little research project had bonded them further. 

She held what they had purchased together in her hands. It was white at the base with a slender tip that was ribbed resembling a fuschia pink tongue. She reached under her skirt to palm her wet panties. She flushed a bit embarrassed as she settled on her bed touching herself through the lace of her soaked panties. Her clit was throbbing, making her whimper as she slowly snaked her hand under the material. 

The vibrator was nearly forgotten as she began to touch herself. However after a few moments she felt uneasy. 

It wasn’t enough. 

She lubed up the vibrator turning it on. She tried to work it on herself. She felt nothing. The vibrator was tossed angrily on the bed letting it bounce slightly on her comforter. 

ABSOLUTELY FUCKIN NOTHING. 

She could nearly cry. 

She could nearly scream. 

All she wanted was to release, to cum, but nothing was doing it for her like - 

Two soft knocks came at the door followed by a pause. 

An even softer knock followed. 

Her body was vibrating to be touched, to seek relief. 

But she knew how awful she had left things. 

“Hi.” He said softly when she opened the door. “Can I come in?” He was slumped looking a bit pathetic and painfully adorable with his own messenger bag slung at his side. 

She merely stepped aside. 

“Whatever I did,” He started looking her in the face as she closed the door softly. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight.” They rarely did. When they did it was over subjects that didn’t matter. Hardly anything ever relating to their relationship, though it was still young. 

Her eyes shifted to the abandoned sex toy on the bed. 

His eyes locked on the vibrator on the bed. 

“Oh,” He said with a realization. “Is that why you . . . I see.” She stood with her shoulders slightly pushed in. “This is my fault.” 

“No, no, it’s mine. I touched you without permission. I’ve been so stressed. So out of focus on my work. I just needed release. I didn’t think, just behaved like an absolute -” 

“Come here,” Michael wrapped her in his arms, squeezing her. She squeezed him back. “I’m feeling stressed as well, but you said you needed release? I’m stressed too, but I can’t . . . ” 

It was then that she realized it. 

“Oh?” She pushed away from him looking at his face. “Does stress make you . . .unable to . . .?” The question hung in the air embarrassing him to make his face flush. . 

“We seem to have different reactions to pressure.” Michael said with a nod. 

“It’d be fascinating if I didn’t want to fuck you so bad.” Her smile was half quirked. He chuckled. “This has always been something I have dealt with. I usually masturbate. I cum and I can focus again, but,” She looked at him, feeling her teeth nibble at her lower lip with desire. “Since we started dating, all I want is you. Toys aren’t enough sometimes. And I couldn’t . . .I don’t know. I just want to not feel this way anymore. I feel so, so stupid not being able to focus.” 

She could cry or tear out her own hair from the sheer pulsating need to feel something inside her. 

“No, you are not stupid!” He assured her. “You are absolutely brilliant and you will have your mind back.” He scratched the back of his head feeling the edge where hair met flesh. “I might not be able to . . . achieve an erection.” There was a fact. Michael Gavey’s cock couldn’t get hard when he was stressed. She couldn’t be any wetter standing here watching him struggle to promise a compromise. “But I can still help. If that’s what you -”

“Yes!” She embarrassed herself by saying it too quickly and too loudly.  

Michael laughed. 

“Lie on the bed. Take off the skirt and your panties. Let me take care of you.” 

She could fuckin’ cum at those words alone.

Alas she didn’t. 

When she did as he told her he smiled watching her hair spray across the pillow. He adjusted his glasses. He climbed on bed after removing his shoes and placing them at the door. Michael happily straddled her slightly. 

“Such a good girl.” He praised. “My good, sweet, smart, absolutely brilliant girl.” Michael brushed his hand against her cheek letting his thumb slowly ease into her mouth. 

She felt her pussy flutter at what she liked. 

Suckling his thumb. 

Being praised. 

“Spread those beautiful legs for me, darling.” She did. He hummed in approval. “Look at you. So wet. You really are a horny little thing when you’re stressed, hmmm. Tell me how much you need me.” 

“So much.” She moaned, feeling her body tremble. 

“Oh, my love,” He kissed her inner thigh. “Where are those beautiful flowery words I love so much? Give them to me.” 

“So badly. I can’t think of anything else, but you, your tongue, your cock. I need it so desperately. I feel trapped in my own body, vibrating against my will. I want to tear the flesh from my body. I need you so bad, Michael.” She swallowed watching as tears formed under his eyes. He slowly kissed her thigh again. 

“I hate seeing you like this, sweetheart.” His lips were soft against her slit. “Let me help you relieve all that stress.” 

He suckled there at her center. She could feel his tongue flicker against her. 

Her mind felt blank. 

No thoughts of poor grades. 

No reeling words to translate. 

No pressure or thoughts of anything other than Michael Gavey’s tongue and lips making her coo and sigh. 

His hot breath encouraged her. She felt him swirl his tongue slowly easing its way inside her. While Michael had not been well practiced in anything sexual when they had started exploring themselves months earlier, he was determined to become as well practiced with her cunt as he was with the algebraic equations he so loved. He was certainly showing off his skills at this moment. 

His lips found her engorged clit with little effort. 

Michael gave hard wet suckling pops making her insides bubble. 

She called his name letting her hands wander into his hair. She pulled on it and grabbed a tuff at the base of his scalp yanking with tenderness. He moaned approvingly, but simply continued. She secretly hoped he would forget about the stress that was troubling him and be able to achieve her desire, him inside her. 

He continued to bare down on her. His hand moved to squeeze both her thighs moving them up to get better access to her cunt. His noises were lewd, making her wetter as he devoured her. 

“Michael, I’m . . . please.” Her words fumbled from her mouth. Her moans grew higher, more fevered and desperate. 

His tongue worked along her slit producing more arousal as she cried out. There was that familiar build up in her. Michael was working to get it free, growing more intense by the moment squeezing her thighs, running his thumbs over little dimples he adored. 

Different pressure clouded her mind. 

She was only this loud when he was going down on her. 

He always adored her little pleasurable cries. 

She knew it made him feel appreciated, that he was doing such a good job. 

Her hand let go of his hair to squeeze the sheets and mattress. 

The release sprang out of her, harsh and  loud. 

She hadn’t realized she had squirted until she saw droplets on Michael’s glasses and a smear of wet patch against her sheets. 

Her breath laid out heavy. Soft satisfied coos left her lips. Curiously she looked to his crotch as he sat up on his knees. As he cleaned off his glasses on his sweater she saw with disappointment there was no needy bulge. 

“Do you feel better?” He wondered, adjusting his glasses back on his face. 

She nodded. 

“We should change your sheets.” He started to stand. Michael offered his hand, but upon seeing her lazy love drunk eyes and the heaving of her chest merely took in the sight. 

“Mmmm . . . feels too good to move. Can we cuddle for a few moments? We can clean the sheets after and maybe get some dinner and continue our studying. I think I can focus now. Just need to hold you.” 

There was no hesitation. 

Not even the wet patch and the smell of sex coating the air could stop him from snuggling into her arms. 

She felt so relieved. 

***

She was waiting for him outside his last class. 

Most students had finished earlier that week running off to summer getaways and after parties. They had been reluctant to participate in the Trashing earlier that week since their professors had planned extra work on purpose to make the tradition seem less celebratory. Neither could have carried less about this particular tradition. 

The stress melted from her leaving a pleasant satisfaction after she handed in her brick sized translation. She had finally settled on a work of literature after dinner that night, breaking out a handwritten translation of seventy seven pages in two hours. 

Michael had been so, so proud of her when she had received her final mark. 

The highest in her class! 

Her professor even remarked it was the highest score he had given on the tough project. Michael had smothered her with kisses, on her neck, on her lips, on her chin, anywhere he could gain access to in a public setting. 

He still had one more final. 

She was buzzing with excitement at the prospect of him achieving the same level of satisfaction she had. 

Her cute floral dress barely hit her knees flaring out. It was soft to the touch and a bit see through in some spots. She would have never worn it with tons of people on campus, but here with only a handful of maths students vibrating with final exam anxiety she could manage being a bit embarrassed if they saw her teal bra and panties. 

Students flooded out of the hall as she looked for her nerd outside the building. She curled her toes looking forward, finding her bespectacled boyfriend in the crowd. He was wearing a short sleeved button up, blue with light checkered white stripes. She could see him fiddling with the flash drive on his belt. She waved at him, noting his serious face. When he looked at her there was a strong sense of release. 

He nearly raced toward her, colliding into her. He grabbed her and spun her around. 

Michael peppered her with kisses again. 

“It was a breeze!” He said accidentally or on purpose, feeling her up. “I passed with flying colors!” His confidence always made her very turned on. 

She rewarded him with a deep kiss. 

He kissed her back using more tongue than he usually did. 

That’s when she felt it. 

“Oh!” She was a bit surprised at his hardness, very evident as he pressed himself against her. 

He gave her a proud smile. 

“I very much want to.” He said, swallowing looking at her lips. “Now, please.” 

“In public?!” She nearly shouted. 

“No, of course not. At least not today.” His eyebrows wiggled. He took her hand not bothering to hide the evidence of his arousal. There were hardly any people around anyway. “Your dorm is closer.” 

They walked quickly. She giggled as he squeezed her ass complimenting her on her outstanding genetics and her softness. He would occasionally mutter how much he wanted her and how absurd his body was at not being able to get himself worked up when she wanted to jump him days earlier. 

“Nothing to be ashamed of. Our bodies react differently to stress. It’s what makes us unique and precious.” She had booped him on the nose. 

He nearly growled, kissing her as he shoved her into her dorm. She mumbled against his lips. He threw his messenger bag to the floor gripping at her back side. 

“I don’t have any bedding.” She said between kisses, wet and sloppy and the neediest she had ever felt him. 

“That’s alright.”

She had already stripped her bed. Most of her things were boxed up ready to be transported back home. Her parents would be picking her up soon. They’d be meeting Michael for the first time. 

All that information was very clear and present in her head, but the fact that his hands were very pleasantly squeezing her behind was pushing reason and ration away. She moaned against him. He smiled against her lips. 

“Can I give it a little smack?” He squeezed her, nearly humping her thigh from the angle he was currently at. 

“Yes, please.” 

Instantly she felt the sharp sensation of Michael’s open palm against the fat of her round bottom. She couldn’t help giggling. Especially since he was giving her playful little nipping kisses. 

“No, no,” She said, pushing him off. He whimpered sadly. “My parents are coming. Nothing visible today.” He nodded as if finally realizing himself what was to follow when they left this room. “How do you want me?” 

With that Michael grinned. He was looking so pleasantly excited and pent up she swore he probably would burst. 

Had this been how she looked? 

It didn’t matter to her; it was so endearing to see how much he truly desired her. 

“I . . . I don’t know.” She knew Michael wasn’t used to being asked what he wanted. “How about you get on the bed and then we’ll go from there, alright, my love?” 

She nodded ready to obey. 

He gave her another encouraging spank, slightly harder as she sauntered over to the bed. She pulled the soft cotton floral dress over her head revealing her teal bra and panty set. Michael was practically drooling as she laid back on the bed letting her hair fan across the pillow. He shifted and struggled to pull off his shoes and socks. She was glad he moved closer because she assisted with his belt. She unnotched his flash drive and placed it in the pocket of his khakis. 

“I don’t want it breaking. It has that research you like on there still. Those rare papers?” He nodded at her words looking at her solemnly stopping his movement as if a deer caught in headlights. 

“What? Are they not on there anymore?” She blinked confused. 

“I . . . I love you.” He brushed her hair from her face. 

“Because I remembered to protect your flash drive?” She asked with a wicked teasing smile. 

“You know why.” He leaned forward to kiss her. 

She did. 

They knew each other. 

They knew each other so well. 

She was his best friend and he was hers. 

“I love you too. You know that right?” Her fingers teased at his zipper and button of his pants. She looked up from under her lashes fluttering them with a tease. 

This was the first time they had said those words to one another, but she had known from the moment that he asked her to kiss him before their date even began that they were going to fall in love with one another. 

“Yes.” He breathed out as she released his bulge from the confines of his pants. “Please, I need you. I want you.” 

She petted his black boxers. He shifted to step out of his khakis before bending down to retrieve a condom from the back pocket. 

“Umm, would it be okay . . . if we . . .didn’t use it . . . just this once?” She said nibbling at her lip. 

She really wanted to feel him fully. 

Michael knew she was on the pill. 

She knew it may be stupid asking, but she wanted to feel him. She wanted to feel him drip out of her. 

“You sure? I mean, if you get pregnant of course I would . . . I’d be there, but . . . I would like to as well. Maybe just the once?” They were all about being rational, but sometimes rationality got in the way of desire. 

Her fingers teased his bulge as he straightened up. She could feel him leaking as she found his tip. His precum wet his dark boxers, staining them even darker. Her lips kissed there. 

“I can’t . . . I’m going to . . .” He moaned deep and loud. His cock was twitching. 

She released him seeing his cock was so stiff it bounced to greet her. She had never been so close to his member. Usually they had sex or he went down on her. He had never expected her to return the favor. Never thought she would, but seeing it so close to her face made her mouth water in an odd way. She gave his tip a kiss, swirling her tongue along the small slit there. 

“No, please, I want to, but . . . I want to . . .” Michael seemed nearly pained trying to express himself. 

“Do you want to fuck me, Michael Gavey?” 

Pants and the removal of his shirt were the only answer.

“Then claim what is yours.” Her head lulled back against the pillow. 

The pain of how hard his cock was made him hiss as he straddled her. It made him act quicker. He lifted her up unhooking her bra with expert ease. He notched his thumbs at the sides of her panties pulling them down with little effort. He still felt the same when he sheathed himself inside her. He was warm and pleasantly thick though she could feel him a bit more, all of him. She whimpered with need as he sank himself slower and slower inside her until he bottomed out. 

He wasted no time in fucking her into the bare mattress. It was the closest she would ever see to Michael Gavey focusing on his primal needs. He liked kissing her as he fucked her and this instance was no different. She pulled at his hair as he buried himself inside her moving in a rhythm that they both liked. She was surprised that he was lasting as long as he did. 

“I love you so much.” He said as if reading her mind. “I  . . . want to hold on . . . I think I can.” 

“You’re doing so good. You feel so good. You don’t have to hold on.” She could feel herself getting close. She knew he could too. 

“But . . .” 

“Michael!” She called out. She was panting. 

Her walls fluttered around him as she let go. She felt him spill inside her. Her favorite noises were when he lost control. He was so straight laced and professional. Hearing him whine and breath out his release was the sexiest noise on Earth. She felt him slowly pull out of her. His fingers pressed on either side of her pussy lips. 

He watched his cum leak out of her, white and sticky. 

She felt it drip from her.

Her body hummed in approval. 

“So beautiful. All mine.” Possessive Michael was also a favorite of hers. She loved being his. 

“No more stress.” She tousled his hair causing his attention to go from her cum drenched pussy to her pretty cum drunk face. “Just you and me and a stress free summer.” 

Michael Gavey nodded leaning forward. He held her against his chest. 

“No more stressors.” He agreed with a final sweet kiss on her forehead.

taglist: @hangmanscoming, @queen-of-elves

[yoursweetheartsrevenge]

An Italian superstition holds that sapphires...

...are amulets against eye problems...

...and melancholy.