Kyla!

Kyla! 🥵

Just what I needed on this wonderful Frankie Friday 😍

Is it Friday?

Well hello there Mr Morales

This entire little series is just amazing, hot, and funny all wrapped into one. Jesus Lo! You fucking genius! 😍😍😍

dress up Joel masterlist

pic by the wonderful @missredherring

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

rating: Explicit (18+ only!)

general warnings: sex toys, dress up, festive/seasonal shenanigans, no use of Y/N, see individual fics for additional warnings

summary: when a mysterious stranger breaks into your house, and keeps breaking into your house, he gives you the fright, and the ride, of your life. Welcome to your seasonal encounters with one Mr. Joel Miller.

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ao3 ⋆ main masterlist

✨ = new 🖤 = smut 🌈 = fluff 💥 = angst

baubles🖤 - 4.4k Santa Joel fucks you with his balls. That's it.

stupid cupid🖤🌈 - 5.2k Joel makes a return to your home, this time with another gift to give. Will you be his Valentine?

egg hunt 🖤🌈💥 - 5.9k What lies for you beneath the bunny suit, and in his Easter basket, aren't the only surprises Joel has for you tonight.

ghosted 🖤🌈💥- 5.7k

✨stars and stripes 🖤- 5k Roles are reversed this Fourth of July when you surprise Joel with a little festive treat of your own.

extras

dress up Joel lore 🖤 What started as a simple joke from the youngest Miller brother quickly turned into a... beloved brotherly tradition. takes place prior to baubles.

interlude 🖤💥 Joel's egg hunt couldn't have gone worse, and so he confides in the one person who has his back no matter what - his baby brother. takes place between egg hunt and ghosted.

theres this dumb fucking idea I have that's like. not hot but it is but it isnt... making out with a guy while fully nude but insisting you cant have sex because you arent on birth control.. he's so well behaved until his cock presses against your pussy lips ever so slightly... and he just goes "they're just kissing. thats ok right??"

Straight up adorable! That ending gave me a toothache 🥹

Interrupted

18+ account - minors do not interact

joel miller x f!reader

Word Count: 2K

Rating: E

Summary: You and Joel think you are sneaking in some alone time, but your steamy session is interrupted by your daughters barging in at the worst possible moment.

Warning: fluff, language, flirting, pet names, smutty flashbacks (oral sex – f receiving, spanking, unprotected p in v sex), oral sex (m – receiving), mentions of sex shop and adult toys, praise, dirty talk, fucking softnessss

A/N: I don't know if I've ever posted something on a Sunday. Forgive me lord for I have sinned with publishing smut today 💁🏽‍♀️ — This literally exists because of Kyla – she shared some wonderful stories about her and Mr. Enduring with me and was kind enough to let me use it as inspiration… I hope you like this my beautiful queen.

@survivingandenduring

xx

As you slowly opened your eyes, you felt a dull ache between your thighs, and a contented smile spread across your face as you remembered last night.

It was Saturday night and Sarah and Ellie both had sleepovers with their friends. Joel had walked through the door carrying bags of Chinese takeout.

"Hey darlin’, got your favorite," he said with a smile, placing the containers in front of you.  

You couldn't resist the urge to kiss him, thanking him for dinner. You decided to put on a movie and enjoy your meal together in front of the TV, but as you cuddled up on the couch, things quickly took a turn.

The screen was soon forgotten as his lips found their way to your neck, his warm breath sending waves of desire through you. His hands started roaming over your body, and before you knew it, you were kissing passionately, and your clothes quickly came off in a frenzy of desire.

"Fuck the movie," he groaned, his voice low and husky. "I wanna taste you,"

As he went down on you, you couldn't help but moan in pleasure, your hands gripping the cushions of the couch. "Oh god, that feels so good," you gasped, your body arching with each flick of his tongue.

"You taste so good, baby," he murmured against your cunt, sending you spiraling into your orgasm minutes later.

Once you recovered, you straddled him, your movements desperate and eager. He guided himself inside of you, causing you to gasp with pleasure. "Fuck, you feel amazin’… this fuckin’ pussy," he growled, his hands gripping your hips as you started bouncing on his cock.

Your moans filled the room as he spanked your ass, driving you wild with each smack. "Harder," you begged, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you. With Sarah and Ellie out of the house, you wanted to take advantage, since you both never allowed yourselves to let him spank you when they were home out of fear that they would hear you, since you were terribly loud. He obliged, delivering even harder spanks that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your arousal grew with each strike, your need for more building within you. You arched your back, presenting yourself for his punishment, craving the delicious sting of his hand on your skin. The sound of his palm meeting your flesh echoed in the room.

"Oh, fuck yes," you cried out, the pleasure building inside of you. "You’re so fucking deep Joel, so deep,”

"That’s it, baby. Take it for me, I know you can," he urged, his own release near. With one final deep thrust, you felt your body explode with pleasure as you reached your peak, screaming his name as you rode out your orgasm. Joel followed soon after, his own release washing over him as he buried himself deep inside of you. Breathless and spent, you collapsed against his chest, feeling the warmth of his body enveloping you.

"Fuck, that felt good," he panted, pulling you close in a sweaty embrace, the room filled with the sound of heavy breathing and the lingering scent of sex.

As you laid in bed next to Joel, your mind wandered to the challenges of parenthood. It seemed like just yesterday that you two were carefree and able to indulge in spontaneous intimacy before you had kids. But now, with teenagers in the house, a 16-year-old and a 14-year-old, finding time for each other had become a constant juggling act.

There were some years that were harder than others, where sex had felt like it was only happening on special occasions. The nights when Sarah and Ellie were very young and refused to sleep, the days when Joel was working grueling 14-hour shifts at Miller Construction – it felt almost impossible to prioritize your relationship amidst the chaos of family life and sleep deprivation. You were a professor at UT Austin and there were days when balancing your career, being a wife, and being a mother just felt fucking hard. You always felt like you and Joel were running around working, carpooling, attending one of Sarah’s soccer games, or cheering on Ellie at her music recitals.

You both had lost yourselves a bit when the girls were younger, but thankfully, you and Joel had found your groove again in the last few years and felt like yourselves again. You two had learned to steal moments of connection whenever you could, even if it meant stealing away to the bedroom during a rare quiet moment. You had learned to communicate openly and honestly about your needs and desires, making sure to carve out time for each other amidst the demands of everyday life.

You watched Joel sleep peacefully, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The lines on his face showed the years he had lived, but they only added to his rugged charm. Your gaze roamed over his toned arms and broad shoulders; hands calloused from years of labor; muscles defined from years of construction work. You couldn't help but admire the way the morning light played across his features, highlighting his mouth and the curve of his jaw.

As you continued to watch him, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you marveled at how he seemed to only get better with age, growing more and more attractive with time. You knew every inch of him, every crease and scar, and you loved him all the more for it.

He was the sexiest man alive in your eyes, and you couldn't imagine anyone else even coming close.

He slowly stirred from sleep, and you watched as his eyes fluttered open, revealing a hint of drowsiness that slowly gave way to recognition.

Joel blinked a few times, adjusting to the light filtering in through the curtains, before turning his gaze to meet yours. He reached out a hand to gently brush your cheek, his touch warm and comforting.

"Good mornin’, baby,” he murmured, and leaned in to plant kisses all over your face and neck, making you giggle and squirm with delight.

"You just can't get enough of me, can you?" you teased, running your fingers through his hair.

He chuckled and pulled you closer, whispering in your ear, "I could never get enough of y’a. I wanna fuck you again, right now,"

You smirked and pushed him away playfully. "Well, you better catch me first…" With that, you disappeared under the covers, eager to give him a morning surprise.

"Damn, baby, you're so good at that," he groaned as you took him in your mouth, swirling your tongue around him, bobbing up and down.

You hummed in response, enjoying the way he gasped and squirmed beneath you. “Love you in my mouth," you murmured, feeling his hands grip the sheets in pleasure.

He moaned and tangled his fingers in your hair, urging you on with a string of profanities and praises and you felt your wetness pooling between your thighs. "Fuck, you’re doin’ so well," he groaned, you could feel his arousal building, his hips lifting off the bed to meet your mouth as he moaned your name. You took more of him in your mouth as his cock hit the back of your throat and you felt tears start to gather near your eyes, it didn’t matter how many times you did this, he was so big.

“Oh yes, keep doin’ that,” he begged, his words becoming more desperate. “You look so fuckin’ pretty takin’ me down that tight little throat,” his voice strained with need, and he tightened the grip on your hair. You both were so lost in the moment, and before you could continue, the bedroom door suddenly burst open and in walked in your two daughters. They froze in shock, their eyes wide with horror as they took in the scene before them. Thankfully you were still under the covers, and they couldn't see Joel's... friend.

"Mom! Dad! Oh my God!" Ellie shrieked, covering her eyes with her hands.

Sarah gagged. "Ew, gross! Can't you guys lock the door or something?"

Joel’s face flushed crimson as he stammered. "What the hell?! Can't you guys knock?!" he exclaimed, pulling the sheets up to cover himself. Why were they here so early? They had said they would be getting dropped off in the afternoon; it was only 10 AM.

You came up from under the sheets, but not completely so that you wouldn’t flash your daughters. "Oh, uh, I dropped my wedding ring," you stammered, trying to think of an excuse. "I was just looking for it under here,”

"You’re making it worse Mom!" Sarah said, shaking her head in disbelief. “You guys can't be doing this, you're like too old. Dad could have a heart attack,” her face flushed with embarrassment.

“Too old? How fuckin’ old do you think I am?” Joel snapped, his voice cracked as he glared at them.

“Girls, um, let’s give your father and me a moment to… uh, get dressed,” you said completely mortified.

Ellie crossed her arms, her eyes wide. “Mom, seriously? Ugh, I'm going to go bleach my eyes,"

Joel’s face turned a deeper shade of red, and he fumbled with the sheets and mumbled, “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

"Like your father said, you two need to knock before you come into our room," you scolded, covering yourself with the sheets.

This would be a memory that would haunt family dinners for years to come.

Sarah and Ellie quickly exited the room, and you knew they wouldn’t be unable to erase the image from their minds. Once they were out of earshot, Joel turned to you with pleading eyes, "We've scarred them for life,"

You couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at the situation. "Let's start saving money for their therapy fund,"

xx

It probably took an hour before you and Joel finally went downstairs to have an uncomfortable conversation with your daughters. It probably took a week before the girls finally forgot about it and Joel could finally look them in the eyes. It probably took a year before Ellie accidentally opened up an email on your phone from an adult store and saw your order for a clit stimulator set and some lube, and you two just agreed to never talk about it.

Little did you know that 10 years down the road on Sarah’s wedding day, she would stand with you for a quiet moment before the ceremony. She took a deep breath, her eyes filled with emotion, and began to speak.

“Mom, I have to tell you something,” she started, her voice trembling slightly. “Remember that one time in high school when Ellie and I accidentally walked in on you and Dad… you know, being intimate. It was so gross at the time,” she laughed softly, shaking her head. “But looking back, I realize how special it was to see that you two still had that spark, that love.”

You smiled; a bit embarrassed but understanding.

“Seeing you and Dad so in love, even after all these years, showed me what a real, beautiful marriage looks like. It wasn’t just about the romance; it was about the partnership, the support, and the ups and downs you had,”

She took your hands in hers, squeezing them gently. “I hope my marriage will be as beautiful as yours. Thank you for showing me what love truly looks like. I wouldn’t be here today, ready to start this new chapter, without your example,”

You felt tears welling up in your eyes and pulled her into a tight embrace, wanting to hold your baby girl for a moment longer, both feeling the weight and beauty of the day ahead.

Later that night, Joel would make love to you and tell you how lucky he was that you were his best friend and that he wouldn’t want to do this ‘crazy thing called life’ without you.

xx

Tagging some folks that engaged in my WIP Wednesday for this one-shot: @sawymredfox, @alltheirdamn, @mermaidgirl30, @luxurychristmaspudding, @pilotispunk

Thank you so much for reading! If you like this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging.

dd!! i'm running to your inbox now to ask you - who are you bringing to game night?

we're scoping out the competition here, because personally i'm worried you're gonna whoop my ass.

Well originally, Dieter was supposed to meet me there but then he ran off mumbling something about aliens and not being a chaotic trash panda.

So had to ask my man, Frankie if he’d help me out. He seemed up for the job

I just… UGH! How can he… UGH! You got me feeling stupid for this fuckboy!Joel 🫠

I guess I am a glutton for punishment

Want You Bad

Self Esteem Part 2

Pairing: fuckboy!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel ignores you at the lake until he can't. Loosely inspired by the song Want You Bad by The Offspring (to stay on theme, ya know?).

Warnings: fuckboy!Joel, dub con, smut, pwp, unprotected piv sex, fingering, creampie, dirty talk, public sex, reader is still sippin' on some dumb bitch juice for Joel (me), smash and dash, get railed against a truck, emotionally manipulative but sexually proficient Joel, toxic breadcrumbing Joel fucks, dirt, no use of y/n, AU no outbreak,

Notes: please leave feedback! open to constructive criticism or delusional inspiration

Thanks: major thanks to everyone who read part 1, as well as my muse @auteurdelabre , and my co-chair of the horny4joel club @lovely-vamp-princess for encouraging me

WC: 4.8K

AO3: Here

Part 1: Self Esteem

Your fingers hover over the brightly lit screen of your phone. Your friend, Katie, invited you to a barbecue at Toad Lake and assured you it would be a relaxed group. Just food, drinks, sun, and swimming. But how can it be relaxing if Joel is going to be there? If he was even invited. If he even shows up. He drives you insane. It’s her fault anyway. 

Katie’s boyfriend was friends with Tommy. Tommy invited Joel to some karaoke night at a bar a few months back. That was the catalyst for your personal hell. You don’t even know why he showed up; he refused to sing anything. But he did offer to give you a ride home so Katie could leave with her man. 

You were surprised by the gesture. The way he’d barely said anything to you all night made you think he wasn’t interested in remembering your name. But the way his shoulders filled out the green flannel he wore and then when he rolled up the sleeves? He was like The Brawny Man come to life. And that paper towel mascot lookalike was so your type. In fact, the way he nearly flat-out ignored you was also a turn-on but not one you thought your therapist would approve of. So when he offered a ride, you accepted. 

You tested the waters on the ride home, attempting to make some small talk. He was different one on one. Charmed you with his sharp wit and some flirty compliments. You couldn’t tear your eyes off him, his hands, his arms, his profile, and his dark features in the glow of the streetlights. You lingered when he pulled up to the curb in front of your place. 

“I’m glad you drove me home,” you said, “it was nice to get to know you a little bit.” 

“Was nice,” he agreed dragging his thumb under his bottom lip, pulling your attention to his mouth,  “I’d like to get to know you a little more.” 

You felt your cheeks warm at that and smiled back. “Would you like to come inside?” you floated the offer, and the look on his face sealed the deal. 

But today, you haven’t heard from Joel in over a week. He doesn’t usually last much longer than two weeks before you find him at your door. He disappears just long enough that you start to build up the courage to tell him off for being a flake. The only reliable thing about Joel, though, is that when he does show up, he always leaves you feeling completely spent. What’s the harm in enjoying what he can do with his body? You don’t think you spend an unhealthy amount of time daydreaming about him. 

You don’t want to anticipate seeing him at the lake and get disappointed if he’s a no-show. Instead, you’d rather your chest constrict with anxiety until Saturday while you debate sending him a text to ask him yourself. You decide against it. You don’t want to double-text since he never answered your last message anyway. 

Saturday arrives quickly, and it’s the perfect day to be at the lake. Clear skies and hot sun. Your car is an oven as you slide your beach bag and cooler backpack into the backseat. You sit in the driver’s seat and roll down all the windows. You flip down the visor to look in the little mirror at your reflection.  

It’s casual, you remind yourself. Just friends, food, and floating in the lake. You put on some waterproof mascara anyway, definitely not because Joel might be there. You look casual. You found your favorite black bikini last night and tried it on to make sure it still fits the way you like. Basic triangle top and bottoms with strings that tie on your hips. It still fits snugly but without cutting into your back or shoulders. It hugs everything in the right places and displays all the right skin. For your friends. At the casual barbecue. 

You stare at yourself, practically pointing a finger at your reflection to drill the idea into your head. If he’s there, it doesn’t mean anything. If he wants to be nonchalant, you’ll be nonchalant even harder. And you’ll look good as you do. Give him a taste of the same rejection you keep experiencing. 

Toad Lake is almost a secret. It’s small, outside of town, and private except for one small area with access to swimming and a small dock. When you and Katie lived together, you used to hit it up after work. Jumping off the dock unless there were people fishing. Or just floating near the shore with pool noodles while debriefing about the day. 

You pull off the main road onto the winding gravel road that takes you to the public access. It’s dense with trees and full of potholes. You bounce along in your car, listening to the gravel crunch under the tires. 

Parking is tight. The first lot only fits five or six cars on the gravel spots, and past that, maybe another seven or eight would fit in the dirt spots. You recognize most of the cars already parked as you pull into one of the furthest spots. You don’t see Joel’s truck, and your stomach drops with a wave of disappointment as you pull in between someone else’s truck and a jeep. You don’t want to think about him or feel let down. 

There’s a short but steep and winding path that leads to the water. You round the corner, finally able to see through the trees to the beach, and recognize him immediately. The unmistakable frame of Joel Miller. The shape of his body and that signature stance. You’d recognize him by the back of his head in a crowd with one eye closed. Butterflies stir in your stomach, and at the same time, your throat feels dry. 

He’s such a dick, you think as you trudge down the path in your sandals. Maybe you should ask him if his phone still works. No. That would blow up in your face. You’d just be broadcasting that it hurts when he rejects you. You do not want to face that fear. Maybe coming here was a total mistake. Regret and fear claw viciously at your throat with each step you take. 

Joel seems to dance around you, just avoiding being on your path as you greet everyone and catch up. Tommy is friendly and chats with you for a moment before getting Joel’s attention, forcing you to interact. 

“You remember Joel, right?” he asks. 

You laugh brightly. “Of course, the one and only,” you say with a smile. 

Joel nods at you. Doesn’t even say a fucking word. His dark brown eyes just bore into you for the longest second before giving you a curt smile. Tommy laughs at something while Joel turns away to find something to look busy with. Or someone. You gawk briefly as you watch him turn to chat with some woman you don’t know. 

Blowing you off on your attempts at dates is one thing, but acting like he doesn’t even know you? What the fuck is with this guy? Who’s the woman he seems so friendly with? 

You remember how to close your mouth and decide to set up your spot along the beach. You strip off your T-shirt and adjust the straps on your bikini. Rifling through your bag for some sunscreen, you find the lotion first. Smiling to yourself, you imagine asking Joel to help get your back. Would he refuse? Would his lady friend be jealous? You actually don’t want to know. You dig around until you find the spray sunscreen. You don’t need a man applying any cream to your back. 

You swear you feel his eyes burning into you, but when you look around, he’s turned and talking to her. Whatever. You figure it’s safest for your sanity to head straight for the water. You grab your pool float and start to blow it up. You feel that burning sensation again, but you turn, and he’s busy swigging down a drink. You grab one for yourself, and with a drink in one hand and the pool float under the other arm, you march right into the water. It’s perfect. Just warm enough, it doesn’t shock your system. Cool enough to ease the oppressing heat of the sun. 

“The water is perfect! Why am I the only one in here?” you call to Katie. 

“Alright, I’m coming!” she calls back. 

You laze in the water for most of the afternoon. Chatting with friends, cheering on a wobbly friend learning to stand on a paddleboard, and just resting peacefully. 

Joel sits in a beach chair, observing. You stare back under your sunglasses, hoping it’s not noticeable. Your thoughts spiral again. What is his issue? You aren’t good enough? He doesn’t wanna get caught talking to you? You consider cornering Tommy to dig up some dirt, but it’s too late. Joel is pulling his shirt over his head. You’re locked on. You fight to keep from reacting. His sun-kissed frame strolls towards the lakeshore. You watch as he gets waist-deep before he pushes off and glides through the water. When his head re-emerges, and he shakes the water from his hair, you feel your mouth drop open. You quickly fill it with the beverage in your hand. 

You keep staring. Watching the beads of water roll down his shoulders. You’d like to sink your teeth into the skin on his neck. You’d like to wrap your legs around his hips under the water—“oh, shit!” you yelp. 

A kid swimming behind you got a little too excited, kicking water and splashing it all over your face. You grimace. You didn’t mean to swear at the kid. It was just the shock of it. No big deal. Since your hair is wet now anyway, you might as well get all the way in the water. 

You drop off your floaty and empty drink on your blanket. Tossing your sunglasses off, too. You walk back into the water and dive under yourself. It’s refreshing. You’re close to Joel when you pop up again. He looks at you this time. Acknowledges you’re a real, live human in front of him. 

“All wet now, huh?” he smirks. 

“Oh, fuck off, Joel,” you scoff at him. You swim away before he can say anything else. 

You lay out, letting the sun dry your wet skin. Until you’re ready to leave. The idea of a shower and aircon sounds pretty good to you. You gather your things, say your goodbyes, and hike up the path to your car. 

With your bags in the backseat, you grab your towel. Your bikini and hair are still dripping wet. You squeeze your hair with the towel when you hear someone approaching. You look over your shoulder, and of course, it’s him. You turn away, continuing to towel at your hair. You can feel his body hovering behind yours. 

“Hey, baby,” he says, low and syrupy.

“Are you joking?” you spew incredulously, not bothering to look at him. “Where’s your girlfriend?” 

“My what?” 

“I didn’t catch her name.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, baby. It’s not like that.” His large hands wrap around either side of your hips. “Y’look nice in this,” he coos, ignoring your spite and toying with the strings tied at your hips. You turn and shove at his chest. He leans against the truck behind him. 

“Why are you up here, Joel? You want to ignore me around our friends, then follow me to my car like a dog? You’ve got fuckin’ problems, man. Why are you looking at me like that?” 

He’s smiling at you like it’s endearing that you’re telling him off. 

“Oh my god, let me guess. You think I look sexy when I’m mad?” 

“No,” he defends and steps closer. He runs his fingers under the strap on your shoulder. His touch burns white hot against your skin, branding you. You shiver. “You always look sexy,” he rasps. It’s not charming. He’s still an ass. But it feels so good when he says it. He’s so close you can smell the sunscreen and sweat on his skin. Everything about his presence chips away at your defenses. 

“Could barely stand watching you in the water,” he adds. When did his mouth get so close to you? His hot breath runs over the shell of your ear. “Want you bad.” 

“Liar,” you argue with less venom. 

“Am not,” he hums. A hand slides up your neck, thumb under your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. His eyes are heavy with lust. He’s still smiling. You wonder if that’s how he’d look if you woke up next to him. A dreamy smile with his tousled hair and scruffy cheeks. 

He takes your hand, so delicate compared to his. Slowly, he brings it towards his body and wraps it around the stiff bulge in his swim trunks. “Feel like I’m lying?” He watches the tiny muscles in your face twitch as you suppress your reaction. Then your brows pull together, and you glare. 

“You think you can just follow me up here, get your hands on me, and then what? You’ll have me on my knees in the dirt for you? You think I wanna catch some dirty lake water disease from your cock in my mouth?” 

He squeezes your hand harder like his dick will argue for him. Maybe you’d hear it out. 

“You gonna tell me you don’t want this?” he asks, narrowing his eyes, “bet you’re wet from more than just the lake, pretty baby.” He’s not wrong, but you’re not going to admit it. Wait, did he say pretty? A laugh, shriek, and loud splash from the lake below breaks you out of his trance. Your tunnel vision expands. You pull your hand from his grip. 

“Why are you up here, Joel?”

“Couldn’t just watch you leave.” 

You scoff at him and whip back around. You’re quick, but he’s bigger and stronger. His hands pull at your hips, slamming your body back into his. The damp skin of his chest sticks to your back. 

“We’re not fucking in the parking lot,” you snap. You can feel how hard he is. Pressed against the curve of your ass. His swim trunks and your wet Lycra bikini are the only barriers between you. 

“Maybe s’what you get for being a filthy fuckin’ tease,” his gravelly voice rumbles in your ear. 

“How am I a tease?” you squirm against him, but the friction only makes both of you more pathetic as you gasp and he groans.

“Wearing this.” He pulls at the string of your bikini on one shoulder and lets it snap back. “Laying on that towel, ass up, like you were waiting for me to fill it,” he squeezes a cheek for emphasis, “floating in the water with these perfect tits barely hidden.” He pulls at the triangles of fabric covering them, sliding them apart until your breasts pop out. Exposing you under the shade of the trees. 

“You’re delusional,” you accuse. But all the venom is gone. The words come out breathy. His body is wrapped around you, constricting. His hand travels down your stomach, slipping under the bikini and between your legs. His fingers find exactly what they were searching for. Your slick folds part easily, welcoming his fingers deeper. 

“Doesn’t feel like a delusion to me, baby.” Wretched man. Always has to prove a point. You’re running out of the mental fortitude to argue. You also feel ridiculous, standing between someone’s truck and your car, tits out, his hand between your legs. 

“Isn’t someone gonna wonder where you are?” you try to find a reason you should stop. 

“No, said I had to make a call.” 

“A call? So your phone does work,” you chide, using your last brain cell. He plunges two fingers into your aching pussy, effectively shutting you up. A moan is the only noise you can form. 

“Thought I already taught you to quit arguing with me.” His irritation is muffled by his lips pressed into the skin of your neck. 

“Fuck you, Joel.”

“You wanna try askin’ nicely?” he goads in your ear. His fingers curl as he drags them in and out of you. You let yourself focus on the sensation. Your head falls, chin to your chest, and you watch the muscles and tendons in his arm flexing and rippling while he works you into a needy mess. It’s hot. His arm is firm and tan from days spent working in the hot sun. Against the soft, cushiony flesh of your curves, it’s almost menacing, but it provides you with support. Like he could balance you forever against his one arm. He might have to if your knees give out. 

The noises coming from you both are obscene. You feel his chest rising and falling against your shoulder blades, slowing down time. Joel moves shamelessly, his hips roll and grind into the swell of your ass. He’s curled around you like a wild beast claiming his prize in the forest. It gives you some kind of sick ego trip; he hurt you, but now he’s here attached to you with desperate want. You slide a hand behind your head, feeling for his soft, damp hair on the back of his head, confirming this whole perverse scenario is real. You tug at his hair, eliciting a rough groan from his lips. He seems to have forgotten his own question, entranced by you. 

Joel watches the sweat beading on your chest and runs his hot tongue up your neck into the hinge of your jaw. He savors your sweat-salted taste with a deep hum that vibrates from his chest into your spine. It lights sparks along your nerves. 

You grind back against him as his palm presses firmly into your clit, and his fingers keep stroking at just the right spot. The pressure building feels overwhelming. He’s all consuming the way he surrounds you. The sound of his breath, his scent, the way your skin sticks against one another, it floods your senses. Your breath quickens, and your muscles coil tight with tension, buzzing with need. 

“Give it to me,” his words scrape across gravel. The tension in your core snaps, abdomen spasming, and your pussy clenching at his fingers for more. The hand you have on the back of his neck clings tightly for support. He loosens his grip around you and slows his movements as you start to take deeper and deeper breaths of air. Fresh air. Because you’re in the parking lot at the lake. Your senses sharpen, and your vision clears. You fix your bikini top in a rush, adjusting the fabric and straps fighting through your tangled mess of limbs crossed with Joel’s. 

You can hear other footsteps on the path. Turning to face Joel, you flash a smile on your flushed face at him. 

“Good timing,” you quip as you look beyond Joel and past the bed of the truck to see who’s coming up the path. You wave at a couple of friends as they carry their bags to their vehicle. Joel doesn’t turn to look. Doesn’t seem to move a muscle. You look back at his face. 

One brow raised; he looks like he knows something you don’t. A frown pulls at your face. He executes his maneuver before you can devise a retort for his expression. He yanks hard on the ends of the bows that tie your bikini bottoms together. Your jaw drops as the fabric falls. Your hand flies out to slap his chest at the audacity, but he grips your wrist in his hand. 

“Not nice to hit people, baby,” he condescends as if you were the one in the wrong. You’re fuming. Blood boiling. 

“What–” you’re cut off by his other hand grabbing your jaw with a vice grip. 

“Quiet,” he snaps. You hear the sounds of the car backing out and pulling away. Tires kicking up a cloud of dust. You can’t see past Joel’s wide frame as he holds your head in place. You grab at his forearm, but it’s useless. You’re defenseless in his grip. Vulnerable between the vehicles and the trees. Why does that make your cunt ache and throb? You squirm. “You gonna behave?” he asks, but you know it’s not a question. 

“Uhuh,” you respond through your clenched teeth, your lips unnaturally squished and parted between his fingers and thumb. You give up on prying at his arm and run your hand down his bare chest towards his swim trunks instead. Your touch brings a smirk to his face. 

“Yeah, you are,” he agrees. Reading your sordid motives like a love letter, he carries on. He drops your jaw and readjusts your positioning. Joel moves you with ease. He lifts you and backs you into the window to the backseat of the truck, his hands under your thighs. If you had any sense left, you might consider it vulgar to be fucked wide open in a parking lot, but the animalistic expression on Joel’s face wipes your mind blank. You lock your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck as if he were the one caught in your trap. He looks at you like he’s trying to etch all the details of you in this position into his mind. It stirs that depraved sense of pride in your chest. 

“Take it out,” he orders. You obey. Snaking a hand between your bodies to free his cock from his swim trunks. Both of you watch, chins tucked to your chests as your hand wraps around his stiff shaft. The sight makes your mouth water. He seems similarly affected. You think you’ll have hand-shaped bruises on the back of your legs the way his grip tightens and his fingertips dig into your skin. He leans closer, seeking your slick, wet entrance. You guide his leaking tip with your own pleasure in mind instead. He watches as you use him like a toy. You swirl the head of his cock around your swollen clit. The pressure and heat blur your vision. You slip him through your folds until he’s coated in your glossy arousal. You keep playing, creating lewd noises between your legs. He’s talking to you, you realize, and tune back in. 

“Keep teasin’ like that. Gonna fuck you til you can’t walk. Give it to this needy little pussy the way no one else can, right, baby? Stretch you out and fill you up. Send you home dripping.” He rambles on with his threats. They make you dumb. 

“Fuck, please, please, please,” you respond with tight exhales. 

His head shoots up. 

“You hear that?” he asks, and you freeze. Straining to listen. You can hear the birds in the trees. The muffled voices down at the lakeshore. You listen for voices or footsteps getting closer, but they don’t exist. 

“Hear what?” you pant. 

“The sound of you begging for my cock.”

Your face heats. You feel another surge of arousal flood your already-soaked center. 

“Fuck off, Joel.” 

“It’s a pretty sound, baby. Want you to be bad.” His words light something fierce inside of you. You need him inside you, now. He doesn’t help as you wiggle in his grip, trying to slip him inside of you. He exhales a puff of air in amusement at your struggle.

“Do it again. Beg.”  

“Please, Joel.” 

“Please, what?” 

“Please, fuck me. Need you to fuck me hard.” A twisted wave of humiliation and need for approval courses through you. Begging for him, trying to tug him closer. You’re a mess for him. 

“There she is,” he smiles. It’s devious, but it makes your heart flutter and your pussy throb even harder. 

You line him up with your entrance, and he fills you in one motion. 

“Fuck,” you mouth as your head slides back against the truck. He fulfills his threats and splits you around his cock over and over. His hips snap into you with a force that sends shockwaves rippling across your body. Joel fucks you like a man possessed. Driving into you brutally, rocking the truck behind you. You try to stifle the cries pouring out of your throat, focusing on breathing, squeezing your eyes shut, and digging your nails into his shoulders. Pinning you with his body frees his hand, and he wastes no time using it to grope at every inch of you he can. 

He slows and rocks into you more tenderly, confusing you. He peers around the cab and waves at someone. Oh, shit. They can’t see you through the cab windows, right? Fuck. 

“Hey, put me down,” you hiss. 

“It’s just Tommy,” he replies. How is that better? 

Then you hear him calling to Joel.

“Hey, you see my sunglasses on the dash?”

Joel looks through into the driver’s window as if you didn’t even exist. 

“Yeah, you want ‘em?” Joel calls back to Tommy. 

“Yeah, you comin' back down?” 

“Yep, be there in a minute if you want me to bring them.” He calls back to Tommy. Still rolling against you, just grinding at a mind-numbingly slow speed. 

“You’re sick,” you whisper at Joel while you grind back into him, and Tommy shouts a thank you in the distance. Joel thrusts up into you more harshly. Your breath catches as his eyes lock onto yours with his full attention. 

“Felt to me like you enjoyed the risk.” His voice sounds like a taunt, but he’s not wrong. Joel talking to Tommy like you weren’t wrapped around his cock sent a rush through your veins. You decide not to admit that out loud. 

“This is Tommy’s truck?” you ask between gasps. 

“Yep.” 

You had some snarky comment to make, but you give up as he resumes his pace, and your thoughts fade away. Joel’s filthy stream of consciousness starts up again between low grunts and groans. His voice and the noises he makes bounce around in your skull. He makes you feel weightless. 

Each time his hips meet the cradle of your pelvis, you nearly burst, complimenting his movements with an enthusiastic rhythm. You arch your spine, angling just a little deeper, chanting out breathy prayers of fuck, fuck, fuck, and yes, yes, yes, when he slips a hand down to draw circles around your clit. 

“That’s it. Let me feel it,” he demands as you writhe. 

You give in, and it drives him crazy. The way your nails dig into his shoulders, your brows pinch, your mouth hangs open, and your body involuntarily shudders against him. He feels the way you start to relax, but your body jerks and clings tighter to him a few more times. He can’t slow down. It fuels his unbridled urge to come inside you as deep as he can. 

“That’s my baby,” he husks. My baby? You feel butterflies as you try to catch your breath while he ramps up his force. 

“Gonna fill you up. Fuck you full.” 

“Yes,” you reply, not sure he’s even listening with the intensity of his look as he barrels towards his release. When he stills, and you feel it, you can’t stifle the sounds in your throat. You feel his cock pulsing inside you, and his hips lurch into you as if he could fuck his come any deeper. He smothers you as he comes down. With his chest crushing you into the truck, you can feel when his breathing starts to slow. You rake your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp and breathing him in. Your pussy might be sore for a day, but your ego is full, and you feel sated. 

Joel pulls out of you with a barely audible pained noise and asks if you can stand before releasing you fully from his grip. 

“I still have two legs,” you joke. But you look like you might topple over if he lets go. He hugs you into him for a tender kiss; it’s quick, but you drown in it. He props you up and presses another kiss to your sweaty temple. 

Then it’s happening again. He pulls his shorts back up, opens the truck, and grabs Tommy’s sunglasses. You grab your towel to wrap around your naked lower half. The truck door slams, and you turn. He’s already walking away. 

“Drive safe,” he calls over his shoulder while you pick up your bikini bottoms from the dirt. 

An empty feeling starts to shroud your satisfied glow as the sound of his footsteps fades away. He did call you “my baby,” though. He doesn’t say that to just anyone, right?