Lo Has So Much Knowledge To Share!

Lo has so much knowledge to share! 😍😘

baubles

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: ball fucking, ball sucking, balls, wall to wall all ball, BIV (ball in vagina), sex toys (the balldo [link to website] is real and it has haunted my dreams for 6 months - pic in this ask), there's some PIV too I guess. word count: too many and they're all balls 4.4k summary: Santa Joel fucks you with his balls. That's it.

A/N: I am NOT sorry. Not now, not ever. And, yes, I watched the instructional video on how to put it on, purely for Research Purposes. We don't talk about how long I've spent thinking about balls.

Happy Ball-idays, don't say I never got you anythin' nice.

...

Santa Joel-y, slip your ballsack right into me, oh gee.

I've been a fuckin' good girl,

Santa Joel-y, so stuff 'em up my chimney tonight.

...

It was your first Christmas in Texas and your first Christmas in a place that felt unseasonably warm for the time of year. That's what you tell yourself every night as you strip off completely before slinking into bed, at least.

Except, this night is different.

It's Christmas Eve.

And someone is in your house. You're sure of it.

A click of a button and you're on your feet, creeping to your bedroom door to listen out for the intruder. You almost didn't hear it, too preoccupied to be on the lookout for burglars on Christmas Eve.

There's a tell tale rustle, the stomp of feet. Whoever it is, they're not even trying to be quiet. You'd respect the brazenness of it all if someone hadn't broken into your damn house. You toy with calling the cops, maybe a neighbor, but you know it'll be too late by the time anyone gets here to do anything, so you make the stupid decision to head downstairs and confront the intruder alone.

Wrapping your flimsy bath robe around yourself, you grab the nearest makeshift weapon you can find (a broken umbrella you still hadn't thrown away) and click the door open, slinking out into the hallway and down the stairs.

If he hears you before you get down the stairs, he doesn't let on. But there, right in front of your Christmas tree is the unmistakable figure of a man. A big man. He's tall, and broad, and his silhouette is wrapped in something fluffy, making it look like there's a giant teddy bear standing in your living room.

You flick the light on, startling him, making him drop a heavy bag undoubtedly filled with your things onto the floor with a heavy thud.

"Oh, shit."

A single ornament rolls out of the bag and across the floor. You both stand frozen and silent, watching it move until it knocks against your bare toes. Only when it's stopped do you drag your eyes back up to look at the man who broke into your house.

Your umbrella clatters to the floor.

"What the...?"

The man before you is dressed as Santa, hat and all.

Only this man was not as old as you would expect for someone claiming to be Santa Claus. His beard is patchy, the scruff around his chin only speckled with gray. He has lines around his eyes, crinkled divots in his skin from so many years of laughter. The red coat pulled around his form is unbelted, falling open at the middle to reveal a white vest and the soft swell of his belly.

"What the fuck are you doin' in my house?" you yell.

"Shh, quit your fuckin' hollerin'."

He takes a step toward you and you back into the wall, trying to keep your distance from the very Texan man who had broken into your house dressed as Santa on Christmas Eve.

And that's when you see behind him, to the glittering lights of your Christmas tree, and the branches covered in ornaments. Ornaments that did not belong to you. You'd bought the thing on sale at the grocery store just a week ago. When you put it up and plugged it in, grateful for the existence of pre-lit trees, you settled on the fact you wouldn't decorate it this year. Even so, it was beautiful as it was, and you enjoyed the soft glow of the lights in the evenings as you wound down after work. Now, that soft glow was accompanied by the twinkling reflections of the many ornaments hanging on it.

"Did you... did you decorate my tree?"

He looks at you like you're mad, and maybe you are. Maybe you came so hard on your vibrator upstairs that you passed out, and this is all a dream. A very vivid dream where you can smell the warm oaky scent of the man in front of you and feel the heat of him as he crowds you against the wall.

"What else do you think I've been doin'?" he says, as if it should be entirely obvious that he's been here decorating your tree all along.

"I don't know, maybe stealing my shit?"

He, once again, looks at you like you're stupid and gestures to his suit, red and velvety, draped around his body. It looks good on him, and does nothing to help the thick syrupy feeling still coursing through your veins. Having a man like him break into your house felt like one of lifes great injustices, but having him break in when you were mid-jerk off was purely inhumane. Other than point to the door and tell him to get out, there was nothing you could do but gape at him and hope he didn't notice you curl your toes as he looked at you.

He takes a step closer, heavy boot falling with a thud in front of you, and shrugs. "If you don't want it, I'll take it back."

Up this close, the smell of him goes straight to your head, your body seemingly ready and rearing to go at the slightest hint of something masculine in your presence. Your tongue suddenly feels too big and clumsy so, not trusting a single word that would come out of your mouth, you shake your head. You would actually, really, very much like the decorations to stay and the man who put them there.

Texas always felt hot to you, but something about this room was now super heating. You're keenly aware of the stickiness pooling between your thighs, and even more aware of the visible sheen of sweat on your head and the warmth in your cheeks. If he looked closely, he'd even be able to see glistening on your fingers, making you look glitter coated in the twinkle of the Christmas lights. You shift, trying to mask the buzzing in your veins at his eyes as they drag down your body.

You hadn't noticed the silky tie of your robe slowly loosen as you wiggled and fidgeted. You were too warm to notice when the fabric parted, gaping over your chest and giving him a perfect view of your tits. You were too busy staring into his deep brown eyes to notice him raise his hand.

You did, however, feel the moment his finger stroked a slow trail down the swell of your breast, puckering your nipple and making a shudder run through your spine.

"You're all unwrapped, darlin'," he whispers, just as you remember to breathe again. "S'gettin' a bit warm in here, huh?"

He absentmindedly discards his hat as his finger traces down your body, flicking the light back off behind you once his hat hits the floor. You know where he, and this, is heading, and you're not keen to stop it any time soon.

When his fingers stroke across your mound, you gasp. Your vibrator had made you sensitive, but you'd never had chance to finish the job, and now here he was threatening you with a good time. He cups you, completely engulfing your pussy in his broad hand, and slides it between your legs.

By now it's no secret you're already wet, your upper thighs already sticky with it. His fingers slide through with ease, the quirk of his eyebrow visible now his hat has been thrown to the side.

"Here I was thinkin' you were on the nice list. But this little thing right here tells me you're naughty as they come, darlin'. What you been doin' to yourself all alone up there in the dark?"

You're staring at him opened mouthed as he works is thick fingers over you, dragging slick over your already sensitive clit. You'd been moments away from coming when the noise from downstairs pulled you out of it, and now here he was working you back up and quickly.

"It's my house," you stutter. "Can do what I want." And right now you want to collapse into a heap on the floor with his fingers between your legs.

"That you can. You wanna go back up there and finish yourself off?"

Logically, you know your pre-orgasm desperation is clouding your judgement, that you should take him up on his offer to leave and put a stop to this, but there's something too enticing about him. You don't want to stop.

"Or do you maybe want a hand with your... Little problem?"

"Yeah," you're nodding, eyes so heavy now you want them to snap shut, but you can't resist looking at him in the glow of your Christmas lights. Red really suits him, and you swear you can see his cheeks get rosy in the dim lighting.

"S'good. Got some little problems here myself. But, seein' as you're already halfway there, seems only fair to get me to your level before we start anythin', don't you think?"

Biting your lip, you nod, taking a step closer to him. Tentatively, you reach out a hand and caress the front of his pants. They feel velvety soft, and you have no fucking clue how he doesn't look as sweaty as you feel.

"That's right. You feel that?"

You feel something grow beneath your palm. Big, thick, and heavy. You look down in stunned silence, seeing only the odd shadows cast by the Christmas tree lights sparkling over the front of his pants.

"Get on your knees and close your eyes."

You obey, wanting very much to stay on the nice list now that you know exactly what you want for Christmas. His belt jingles as he undoes the buckle, pulling it from his waist and discarding it on top of his bag. He can't resist giving his dick a quick squeeze over the fabric of his pants at the sight of your bare chest heaving in the twinkling light, before unzipping them and letting them fall down to his ankles. The fabric is so loose he can step out of them, easily tugging his booted feet from the legs.

It doesn't go unnoticed that you spend the entire time eyes closed, listening attentively, and gently rocking your hips, discreetly humping the air in a desperate attempt to find any kind of relief.

"Tsk, got an impatient one on our hands."

The same hand he'd been stroking your pussy with wraps around his cock, slowly dragging his sticky fingers up and down his rapidly hardening length. He wishes he'd told you to strip, or left the light on so he could see you more clearly, but something about your skin under the sparkling lights and the shadows cast between your legs is making him harder more quickly than ever. When his dick twitches in his hand at your deep sigh, he finally stops staring and speaks.

"Open your eyes."

You snap them open, eager to see what he has for you, and your eyes immediately turn the size of dinner plates.

His cock gorgeous, and even in the grip of his large hand it looks big. He's long, thick with a slight upward curve and a smattering of salt and pepper hair at the base. You're fairly certain he trims it, keeping it well groomed and flush to his skin, making his cock appear even larger as it juts out infront of him.

But, despite the gloriousness of this mans cock, what you can't get over are his balls. They're heavy, and full, and getting tighter and tighter as his cock hardens under your gaze. You flick your eyes up to his face and he has a knowing smirk pulling at his lips.

"Fuck," you say as you look back down at it, at them, and let out a shaky breath.

His whole body shakes with a laugh, jingling his bells, as you take in his length. Hand never leaving his cock, his gentle strokes become firmer, and he's guiding the tip toward your face a moment later.

"What should I call you?" you ask, realizing you don't even know his name yet, just as his tip touches to your lips. Exhilarating as it was to fuck a man who had broke into your house, you still wanted to know his name, and not even to press charges - you wanted to know what to scream when you came.

"Santa works just fine."

Pulling back, you scoff, "You want me to call you Santa Claus?"

"Fuck no! Do I look like a Claus to you? S'Joel."

"Santa Joel?"

"Fuck yeah darlin', now open up."

You stick out your tongue, waiting for his cock to slide along the spit slicked muscle. He drags his tip across it, letting you lick at his head before you capture his cock in your mouth, sucking it in and flicking your tongue lightly on his frenulum. The salty sweet taste of him makes you crave more, so you draw him further into your mouth, sliding up and down his cock as he stares down at you with an open mouth.

Dragging your hands up his bare thighs, you grab the base of his cock with one, steadying him as you suck. You tickle the other across his balls, looking up at him as he pulls in a sharp breath, before grabbing them and massaging them. His balls feel entirely smooth to the touch, and you have an irresistible urge to put them in your mouth.

Dragging your lips back from his cock, you lick broadly up the length of it again and again until you're dragging your tongue across his ballsack, slowly trailing up his cock to his tip, watching him all the while. Then you kiss his balls, humming in satisfaction as you finally press your lips to the soft skin.

The sight of you on your knees, making out with his balls is sending him stupid, and all he can do is stare down at you with a look of deep concentration on his face. If he's not careful, he's going to blow his load early, coming in your hand before he even gets to fuck you.

He watches you lightly drag your teeth over his delicate ball skin. He swears he sees your eyes flicker with something deserving of the naughty list when you hear his intake of breath, but he's too preoccupied by your tongue lathing across them to take much notice. You take it in turns with them, sucking each ball into your mouth as you slowly pump his cock in your fist, before releasing and working on the other. By the time you've had enough, his cock is dripping, smearing pre-cum over your hand as you jerk him.

Licking the drippy mess off of your hand, you look up at him, savouring the taste of his cum in your mouth.

"Please tell me you want to fuck me," you say, biting down on your swollen lips. You don't know what you'll do if he says no now, you know going back upstairs to your vibrator just won't cut it, even if you now have the fantasy of kissing Santa's balls to get off to.

"You kiddin' me, darlin'? Get up here."

Relief and desperation wash through you, and you climb off your aching knees, letting your robe fall from your arms.

"Couch?" you say, keeping a firm grip on his cock as you stroke up his chest. He pulls you toward him, holding the back of your neck as he kisses you, tasting his cum and balls on your tongue. His lips are impossibly soft, just like his balls, a stark contrast to the scratch of his beard.

Moving to the couch, you bend over, wiggling your bare ass for him. He chuckles, stepping closer to you and marvelling at the lights dancing over your jiggling backside. He shucks off his own coat now, leaving him in just his vest and boots, and hones in on the peek of your pussy from between your legs.

Sliding his length up and down your slit he groans, gripping your hip in his massive hand just as he notches at your entrance.

"Well, shit, that's nice," he says, sliding his tip into you.

You're inclined to agree - it had been a long time since anyone other than yourself had fucked you, and the red hot feeling of his hard cock in you felt better than you remembered. He rocks his hips a little, drenching his cock in you bit by bit until he's fully sheathed inside your eager pussy. The solid beat of your heart throbs through your veins and straight to your core, making you clench around him as he begins to fuck you.

"You're gonna yank my dick clean off if you keep that up."

"Can't help it," you moan, "Feels so good." You let your eyes close, succumbing to the slow, steady, pleasure building in you.

Snapping his hips more firmly, he bottoms out in you over and over, pushing deep inside you with each thrust. You can feel his wet balls slap against you, rhythmically whacking into your clit, but it's not enough. You're so desperate to come you lick your fingers and reach between your legs, swiping your digits over your clit. His balls instead slap against your fingers and you can't resist trying to stroke them again.

The noises you're making are going straight to Joel's dick, and he knows he's going to blow his snowy load way before he's ready if you don't stop, so he pulls away from you. You protest as his cock slides out of you, leaving you empty and still desperate to come.

"Got a present for you," he pants from behind you.

"The ornaments?"

"Yeah. Got some real pretty baubles for you, darlin'. You'll like 'em. I promise."

He goes to his bag, long forgotten on the floor, and bends over it. You watch his soft ass and the swing of his dick and balls as he rummages around inside the sack, pulling out two things before standing up. When he doesn't immediately turn back around, clearly playing with his own cock, you start to worry that you're not satisfying him. But then he rounds on you and you see his cock and balls glisten wetly in the twinkling Christmas lights just as he throws a bottle at you. Lube.

Catching him opening another box, you gasp and draw your hand to your chest in mock shock.

"Is that not my present to open?" you say coyly, now trickling lube over your own pussy. You don't need it, but whatever he has in mind clearly calls for it.

"Good things come to those who wait."

"I'm still waiting for the coming part."

He shoots you a admonishing look and you raise your hands in surrender, before snaking one back down to keep rubbing at your clit. You're about to go mad if you don't come soon, your clit is so sensitive, a firm nub between your legs now, and your pussy so puffy from so much stimulation. It's a wonder you have any blood left in your brain at all.

The object in the box is revealed, and you can do nothing but gape at it as Santa Joel proudly holds it up with a hand on his hip.

It looks like a torpedo cockring hybrid, and you have no fucking clue what it is.

"Get yourself comfy, gotta strap myself in."

Laying back on your couch - for all its flaws, an armless couch certainly had its benefits - you spread your legs and watch him with curiousity. You still can't work out what it is.

"What is -"

And then he stretches the silicone underneath his balls, pushing each ball into the cage with his thumbs before letting go. Oh.

Oh. "Oh."

You sit in stunned silence. He's turned his balls into a dick or, more accurately, a dildo. With the length of it and the girth of his balls, you can only imagine what it's going to feel like.

"If you don't fuck me with that in the next two seconds I'm gonna scream."

With the contraption strapped around his balls, pulling them down and taught, crouches over you, pushing your legs back so your pussy is pointing skyward like a sloppy wet landing pad for his balls.

He dunks the tip of the dildo into your pussy. It's cold and unfamiliar, not like the velvety warmth of his dick that stands straight ahead of you, taunting you with its glistening tip. If you could fold yourself in a pretzel you would, just to suck the head of his cock back into your mouth.

He pushes down, squatting over you with bare legs, sheathing the entire dildo into you. Another push and you feel the swell of his balls as they pop past your entrance and nestle themselves inside of you.

You gasp. The feeling is wholly unfamiliar, but still you feel yourself soaking him, slicking up his balls as they sit in your pussy.

"That hurtin'?"

"No. No, it's just I- I've never had someone's balls in me before."

"A first ball fuckin' for this little pussy," he says affectionately, stroking a thumb over your lips as they wrap themselves around his balls. His cock is protruding out of you now, like you're wearing a life like strap, and you really wish you could reach to taste where his tip threatens to drip onto you. Suddenly you understand the boys back in highschool and their failed attempts to suck their own dicks.

"They feel so big inside," you moan as he begins to gently shift above you. He pops out of you once, and pushes back in, and you throw your head back onto the soft sofa woth a moan. You have never felt anything like this. "Joel, please don't stop. Please keep fucking me with your balls."

"You got it darlin'," his voice is soft, in awe of you as you take his balls and the toy deep inside you. You feel incredible, and the wet slip of your walls on his ball skin shoots straight down his dick, and for a moment he thinks he's accidentally came too early. A quick look from your face, contorting with the fullness in your pussy, down to where his dick sticks outward, tells him otherwise. Thank fuck. He knows he has to get you off quickly. You were soaking his dick not too long ago, and before that his fingers, and before that your own sheets upstairs. You were ready, and he was nothing if not a giving man.

His thumb finds your clit, slippery from lube and your own slick, and he circles it, applying a firm pressure as he moves.

"Oh my god, that's it," you plead, opening your eyes to look at where he plays with you, balls still sunk deep.

You spur him on, rocking your hips as much as you can with your legs back, fucking yourself on his balls as he strokes your clit. You feel your pussy tense, little spasms warning you of what's to come, and you hold on tight to your own legs.

"That's it darlin'. Come on my balls. Squeeze 'em."

"F-fuuuck."

The swipe of his thumb sends you over, and you come hard on his balls with your head back and eyes squeezed shut. Your legs shake and you know he can feel how you twitch and spasm around his balls, drenching them as he dunks them in you, shallowly thrusting them as you tighten and grip him hard.

He's holding your legs back for you, looking you in the eye as he bends forward over your limp body when you open your eyes. The feral look on his face tells you he hasn't come yet, and you're desperate to see when he does.

"You been so nice I'm gonna give you an extra present. You ready?"

"Please Santa Joel, I've been so good this year," you say with a soft smirk.

He soon wipes the smirk off your face when he fucks down into you harder, practically bouncing off your ass as he slots his swollen balls into your pussy. They feel so big and heavy inside you, and even strapped down and pulled tight by the toy, you feel his balls tighten and try to draw up closer to his cock as he gets closer to coming.

"Come on me. Please. Come on me," you beg, staring between his cock and his face. Pre-cum had been steadily dripping onto you, splattering your belly, but you were hungry for more.

His fingers grip around his flushed head, stroking easily over the slicked surface. Pushing his balls deep, he bounces gently, loving the feel of his sensitive ball skin inside of your soaked hole.

"Here it comes, darlin'. Oh shit."

"Yeah, come on me. Come all over me Joel."

"Shit. Fuck."

You watch his slit as it seems to wink at you before ropes of come spurt out of the tip, shooting across your chest and neck, spattering your face and even your hair with his cum.

"Yes, yes, thank you," your eyes have snapped shut. You can feel the warm trickle of cum by your eyebrow, and you're not keen to feel the sting of semen in your eye.

For a little while he looks at you, fucked out by his balls and laying boneless on your couch. With a soft pop he pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty without his balls in you. Your legs flop down and you listen to his deep breaths.

"Nothin' like a ballgasm," he pants.

Nothing like being ballfucked, you think, but the words are heavy in your mouth and you do nothing but moan, mumbling some nonsense.

"Mm... balls. They... mm. Yeah. Good."

"Too fucked out, huh?" he laughs, before swiping the cum from near your eye. "Make a Christmas wish," and he slips the finger into your waiting mouth.

He slides his finger from your mouth and you murmur a thank you as you make your wish, sighing and letting yourself relax completely for a moment.

When you tentatively open your eyes, wary of any errant drops of cum, he's gone, disappeared as soon as he'd arrived. You didn't hear the door, the window, anything. You certainly didn't hear him get dressed.

Feeling stupid, and like maybe it was all just a dream, you rush to the window. You don't expect to see anything, the man feeling too magical to have been real. But, there he is, walking down the street bare assed, his pants slung over his shoulder and his balls still swinging strapped into the toy.

No, you don't think you'll be forgetting your first Christmas in Texas any time soon at all.

next part

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I love this 😍😍😍

Fixed Up

Pairing: Joel Miller x Jackson!Reader

Summary: Joel Miller may be oblivious to his place as Jackson's most desirable bachelor, but he's not oblivious to you.

Rating: Explicit 18+ (By proceeding to read beyond this warning, you are agreeing that you are 18 years or older)

Content: Everything is great in Jackson and everyone is happy, Explicit Smut (Unprotected Sex, Possessive, Praise kink, Raging size kink as is tradition), it’s mutual but they’re both awkward

Word Count: 3.4K

Masterlist

“So the, um, the…faucet.”

Your contractor nods, mouth pressing into a firm line before he rotates his upper body in the direction of your upstairs bathroom sink. “The faucet?”

“Yep. It’s…” Your thoughts wander, getting tangled up in the streaks of gray in his dark brown curls. In how very nice it would feel to run your fingers through them. “So nice.”

He glances back at you, forehead scrunching in confusion. “It’s nice? I thought you said it was broken.”

Oh, God. Heat rises to your cheeks before you stumble out a quick explanation. “It is! Broken. It’s broken. There’s no, uh, hot water.”

“Oh.” He takes a step toward the object in question, his broad back and shoulders beneath his thick long-sleeve flannel impossible not to notice. His right hand reaches out and turns the handle, waiting a few seconds before running his fingers under the stream of water. “Yeah, that’s pretty cold. Not good in the winter time. I’ll have to take a look.”

He turns the water back off, drying his hand on his jeans. Wide palm and strong fingers carelessly dragging up and down the denim over his thigh as if he has no idea how many times you’ve pictured that same thigh wedged between your own.

Which he doesn’t. Of course, he doesn’t. Much to the relief and to the dismay of almost every woman in this town.

Ever since he arrived in Jackson a few months ago, Joel Miller has occupied the top spot on an admittedly short list of eligible bachelors. A shallow dating pool one of many drawbacks of a post-apocalyptic world although you have no doubt he would have done just fine regardless. 

The man is ridiculously competent and unbelievably gorgeous. Older, as well as the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, but what really clenches it for you (pun intended) is that he seems to have no fucking clue that he is the reason why everyone suddenly seems so into home improvement.

There’s practically been a feeding frenzy, Joel’s to-do list a mile long from the moment Tommy mentioned at the town meeting that Joel was a contractor and open to work. Yet the elder Miller brother has greeted every flirtatious look and open invitation thrown his way with crossed arms and a seeming inability to focus on anything that isn’t a two-by-four. Case in point…

“Mind if I take a look real quick at your downstairs?” 

You blink at him, suddenly aware that he’s been staring at you while you were busy contemplating the size of his hands. “My downstairs?”

His brow furrows again. “For the water heater?”

“Oh, of course, yeah. Water heater. Yep.” What if you just threw yourself out the window? “I can show you where—”

“S’alright. I remember from last time.” He gives you a friendly nod before moving to step past you, and, God, the body heat rolling off this man. The smell. Sawdust and mint and… Have you ever wanted someone so badly in your life?

“I’ll just—” you start to say and Joel draws up level to you to listen, peering down at you with those deep set brown eyes, and here is actually the thing that makes you feel so fucking weak when it comes to Joel Miller. 

Those eyes. The sadness in them when he thinks no one is looking. The pride in them when he looks at Ellie. The joy in them when Tommy says something to make him laugh. 

For a man that says so little… simply seeing the way he is with the people he cares about has told you a lot.

“I’ll just be down in the kitchen,” you finish mumbling, cheeks burning again when your eyes drop to his mouth before you make a hasty retreat. “Take, um— Feel free to take your time.”

*****

Damn, he’s rusty at this. 

Joel continues to glare at his open toolbox on the bathroom floor just as he has for the last five minutes, his frustration having nothing to do with its contents or with the job itself. 

This he knows. Twenty years since he last worked full time as a contractor and it’s all come back like riding a bike. 

But figuring out if a woman is interested in him? That is still leaving him feeling completely unequipped.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to shake off the anxious feeling in his stomach before he gets down on the floor and ducks beneath the bathroom sink. Attempting to distract himself with fixing something rather than thinking through the fuck ups in his past. 

Sarah’s mom. Tess.

In both cases, they had practically had to shout at him before he realized they weren’t just being nice. They’d spelled it out for him and yet he’d still fucked up. 

The first he’d given too much of his heart to. The second not enough. Did he really need to go for three?

As if in answer to his question, your soft voice reaches his ears, and he sits up without thinking, smacking his head under the sink. Wincing he peers out into the bathroom, any embarrassment he feels fading with the dull throb when he realizes you aren’t in the room. 

“What the—” He stops, hearing you talking again and spending a good few seconds looking around before he notices the floor vent. 

Must be over the kitchen, he thinks, going back to his task and doing everything in his power not to listen to— “He’s up there working. Just offer him a cup of tea for God’s sake. You can do this.” 

Joel pauses, tool in hand. Is she talking to herself? About me?

“Joel?” Your voice carries again, this time shouted up from the stairs. “Would you like some tea?”

“Alright,” he yells back, reminding himself that you’re only being polite before he quickly adds, “Thank you.”

He’s been trying to remember his manners again, wanting to set a good example for Ellie, so that the town doesn’t think they’re just a couple of feral barn cats. Although some of the thoughts that run through his mind whenever you’re around don’t exactly border on respectful. 

You just have such a sweet way about you. Shy smile, pretty laugh, kind heart. Always helping people out around town and…always looking like something he wouldn’t mind sinking his teeth into. An urge that he frankly hasn’t felt in a while since he’d been so focused on just surviving, but now… his ability to wield a hammer isn’t the only thing that’s come back.

Through the vent he hears the tea kettle go off, a sharp whistle that shocks him out of the images in his mind and prompts him to reach down and adjust his jeans before he gets back to work. 

“Okay, good,” he hears you say, “so now you just take him the tea and try not to stare at his arms.”

His arms? Joel frowns, looking at the sleeves. Did he have something on his shirt? He had showered after working in other houses all day and put on a clean button-up just before coming over but maybe he’d missed something. He’d even thought about shaving before he had contemplated how good you’d look with whisker burn on your neck…on your inner thighs.

“You can do this,” you’re saying, as if you’re giving him the pep talk. “You can—Damn it, why does he have to be so hot?”

The wrench drops out of Joel’s hand as he fumbles, a loud smack echoing into the room that he conceals with a few more random smacks to the pipes.

“Joel?” Your voice comes up the stairs again a moment later. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just…getting this faucet taken care of.” He waits, and he can feel you waiting too at the bottom of the stairs. “How’s that tea coming along?”

“Good, good.”

Hot. Had you called him hot? Maybe you’d said the tea was hot and he’d misheard. Although, speaking of hot water, Joel looks back at the pipes under the sink and immediately notices what the problem is. He grins, finally feeling something other than nerves pooling in his gut. 

By the time you appear in the doorway with two mugs of tea, he’s already packing up.

“You’re done?” He’s pretty sure now that there’s disappointment in your voice, in the slight scrunch between your brows. “That was so fast.”

“Yeah, well…” He takes a mug from your hand. “Unfortunately, I don’t think I’m going to be able to fix it just now. Gotta come back to it.”

“Oh?” You look so flustered, as if you’re not sure if you’ve been caught. “I—Really?”

“Mmhm.” He steps closer, still testing. “That little knob under there flips the hot water on. Looks like it’s been tampered with.”

You bite your bottom lip. “Weird.”

Yeah, he thinks, already knowing he’s about to try again even though he still worries he shouldn’t. Weird.

“I’m really sorry,” you mutter, looking away from him only to be confronted with the image of the two of you standing close in the bathroom mirror. Something he’s also definitely noticed himself. “I made you come all the way over here for something so silly. And I know you have a lot to do and—”

“Can I make you dinner?”

Your mouth falls open. And Christ, he likes that mouth. “You want to make me dinner?”

Joel nods, taking a calm sip from his slightly scalding tea as he prays that maybe this time he won’t fuck it up. “As an apology. For taking so long.”

*****

Joel Miller is cooking at your stove, towering over it as he deftly prepares some chicken and veggies. Nothing super complicated since you hadn’t really been expecting a dinner guest, but if he’s the one cooking it, it could be inedible and you probably wouldn’t complain.

He’s still not saying much, seeming to prefer listening to you talk, but you don’t mind. There’s something reassuring about his presence, like as long as he’s here it’ll all be okay. As long as he doesn’t figure out you’re the one who tampered with your sink.

The truth is you’d run out of actually broken things for him to fix a few weeks ago, and after listening to the women in the food hall talk this morning about how excited they were for their appointments with him, you’d felt a snap of unwarranted jealousy. 

Before you knew what you were doing, you were marching up to him and babbling about a hot water emergency.

Has he cooked for them, too? You feel like someone would have blabbed if they’d had Joel Miller in their kitchen, but what if you’re nothing special… 

“You alright?”

You look up to see Joel assessing you from where he’s leaning against the counter, the mug of now cold tea you’d brought him still nearby. Maybe you’re just making a fool of yourself…

“Fine,” you say quietly, sitting up straighter as he plates up the finished dishes and carries them over. “Sorry, was thinking.”

“About what?” He drops into the chair beside you and he certainly looks interested in what you have to say. “Anything I can help with?”

“No,” you say with a laugh. “You’ve already done plenty.” The edge of self-imposed hurt in your voice makes it come out sounding wrong and you scramble, “I mean, you fixed all this stuff in my house and now you’ve made me dinner. You’re so sweet to everyone.”

He laughs this time. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. You fix stuff for everyone in town.”

He frowns, looking genuinely confused. “That’s my job.”

“Yeah, but you go out of your way for people. All I had to say was that I didn’t have hot water in my sink and you fit me in to—”

“I don’t do that for everybody.”

There’s a beat of silence as he continues to look at you, and you take a bite of steamed green beans just so you have something to do as your heart skips. Of course, they’re good. Of course, he didn’t make you something inedible. So damn competent. 

Because he’s had to be…

The thought intrudes without warning, reminding you that neither of you have found your way here without getting lost along the way. That both of you have had to do what you had to do to survive. 

It’s easy to forget sometimes. Everything feels so domestic in Jackson. As if the world isn’t still burning beyond the gates. As if you hadn’t spent years living on instinct. As if almost everything you gave didn’t end up eventually costing you.

I don’t do that for everybody. Joel Miller just told you that you were in fact special, and all you can think is if anyone has ever told him the same.

“Thank you,” you tell him, not meaning it lightly as you take another bite of food. “I appreciate you taking care of things—of me. Thank you for taking care of me.”

He starts to say something, his serious expression creasing the corners of his eyes. Those damn eyes. They really do tell you everything you need to know.

You get up from your chair before you can stop yourself, closing the gap before leaning down and putting your mouth on his. He’s so surprised that it takes him a full agonizing second before he drops his fork and grabs for you instead. 

Joel starts kissing you back as he hauls you into his lap, a pleased grunt escaping him as he fits you tight against him. One of his hands cupping your jaw, the other spanning your back to keep you in place as he takes the kiss deeper. 

There’s heat to it. Hunger and need and a thrill of desperation that doesn’t make you think twice about letting him strip off your shirt, your fingers fighting with the buttons on his own while his mouth closes over your breast through your bra and you whine his name.

“Fuck.” It’s the first word he’s said since you both started, and for some reason it makes you giggle, your heart melting when you see the answering flash of a dimple on his face. But then he’s standing up, keeping your legs wrapped around his waist for as long as it takes to lay you out on your kitchen table. 

“Fuck,” he says again, remembering the plates when your back hits the edge of one and makes it clatter against the surface. “Should we go up—”

You shove the plates off the table with the sweep of your arm, then go straight for the center clasp of your bra in case that hadn’t been clear enough. 

His eyes go dark as the fabric falls away, gaze raking your skin before he braces himself above you and picks up where he left off. 

“Been thinking about these,” he says, before he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, using his tongue and his teeth until it’s a tight, overly sensitive bud. Satisfied only when he has you whimpering and squirming beneath him, he places an almost chaste kiss on it before he sets out to make the other one match it. “Fuck, been thinking about you so much.”

“Been…” You sigh, liking the way his whispers scratch against your skin as he works his way back up to your mouth. “Been…thinking…about you too.”

He kisses you again, lingering over it while you push his shirt from his shoulders. Your fingers kneading into his muscles, your palms grazing over his warm skin as you let your hands wander. 

He groans, even that touch enough to make him pick up the pace again. He moves down your body, sucking a mark into the soft skin of your stomach, another high on your hip when he starts to tug your jeans down. You arch up to help him, feeling yourself get wet at just the way he looks at you when you’re bare. 

“Christ.” His hands skim up and down your body, possessively squeezing your breasts, your hips, your thighs. “So fucking pretty.”

His tongue presses against his bottom lip as he tugs you to the edge of the table, spreading your legs after he drops back down into his kitchen chair and pulls you closer. Your hands go to his hair and you tangle your fingers in the strands just like you pictured earlier, moaning when he sucks another mark into your inner thigh. God, he’s going to ruin me.

“Staking your claim?” you tease, the sudden intensity of your feelings making you desperate for some form of relief. 

He smirks, looking up at you from his place between your legs before simply stating, “I don’t share.”

“Me either,” you reassure him, and his smile reaches his eyes before he nods. “Good.”

Then his mouth is on your pussy and you can’t think of anything else, his thick fingers spreading you so he can be thorough. His tongue working you until he has to put one hand on your abdomen to keep you still. 

He likes when you say his name, when you moan, when you pull a little too hard on his hair, telling you with a low groan that you can feel. He rewards you by slipping a thick finger inside as he sucks on your clit, by adding a second finger when you come and using it to work you up all over again.

“Need to open you up a little more, sweetheart,” he tells you when he slowly eases in a third as he stands behind you. “That’s it.”

You can’t even remember when he turned you on to your stomach, positioned you so you’re bent over the kitchen table. All you know at this point is that if he doesn’t fuck you soon you’ll go out of what’s left of your mind. 

“Joel,” you buck your hips back into him, and he lightly smacks your ass in warning. A poor one since that only seems to make you wetter and you’re already dripping down your thighs. 

You’re about to make another demand when you feel the wide, smooth head of him at your entrance, and you’re abruptly glad he had the restraint to work you up to this even if you didn’t. You raise up onto your elbows, gasping when you feel the stretch, and he places a reassuring hand on your back to lower you back down. 

“You’re alright. I’ve got you,” he mutters. “Just breathe, sweetheart. Should see how pretty you look on my cock.”

Jesus.

You shift, trying to accommodate him. It doesn’t hurt. He made sure of that, but it’s a lot. So much. And yet, you only want him deeper.

“That’s it,” he says again, stopping once he’s finally all the way inside and bending over you to kiss the nape of your neck. He scrapes his teeth there when you whine again. “Good girl.”

Still covering your body with his, he pulls out slightly, then pushes back in, waiting to see how you respond before he does it again. And again. And again. 

You’re moaning so loud that the neighbors can probably hear you by the time he’s thrusting hard and fast, his left hand on your back again and his right between your legs. Joel ruthlessly pushing you towards another climax because he wants to feel you come on it. 

You hope they can hear you. And him. You hope the whole goddamn town knows by tomorrow morning that Joel Miller is yours.

“Fuck,” Joel mutters again as you start to come, burying himself deep to feel every wave of it before he pulls out. His spend hits your back and ass a few seconds later, his thumbs smearing it into your skin as he lets out a satisfied hum. 

Apparently you’re his, too. 

“I don’t think I can move,” you mutter, and you hear him chuckle. A heartachingly gorgeous sound that you only have a few seconds to appreciate before he’s scooping you up and cracking your heart completely in two with the way he’s smiling down at you as he takes you upstairs.

“Joel,” you say, as you pass the bathroom sink on the way to the tub, “about the faucet…”

He presses a kiss to the tip of your nose, shushing you as he sets you down and reaches for the tap. “I already know.”

@pedrosummercamp a message from the Cabin 2 bunkmates

This is OUR legacy 💜

@secretelephanttattoo @timelordfreya @bitchesuntitled

@freelancearsonist @bluestar22x @quicax3

Awww thank you!!! ❤️❤️❤️ Your tags have me cracking up! 🤣

Play Date Hookup

Summary: Frankie arrives early to pick up Missy.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MINORS DNI, Sexting, being parents, unprotected piv, creampie

A/N: Thank you very much @beefrobeefcal and @strang3lov3 for lending your eyes on this one ❤️ @jay-zzle basically makes all the moodboards for me(with the exception of a few) and continues to surprise me over and over again with her talents! 😍 ilysm!!!

Masterlist||Parents to Lovers||AO3

divider by @saradika-graphics

“Down the hall and it’s the last door on the left,” Benny points, and grumbling in response,  Frankie makes his way towards Benny’s new bedroom. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Benny,” Frankie mutters, carrying the box Will shoved into his arms, “The fuck do you have in here? Weights?”

Frankie makes it to Benny’s room, barely able to hold the box any longer before it falls to the floor, the contents spilling out onto the hardwood floor.

“Fuck,” Frankie mutters, whipping around to make sure no one followed him in to see the box fumble, wiping his forearm across his sweaty brow he looks down at the mess he has to pick up. Playboys. Hundreds of playboys spilled out of the box.

After picking one up, Frankie quietly makes his way to the door, peering out to see if anyone is coming before closing the door and browsing the dirty magazine. He finds a model that slightly resembles you and his cock twitches, smirking as he pulls out his phone.

Frankie: You busy?

You: Making the girls lunch

Frankie: Thinking about you

You: Yeah? What about me?

Frankie: Oh ya know 🐱

You: Francisco! Naughty, naughty 😈 

Frankie: Wanna eat your pussy so bad baby

You: How about I ride you instead?

Frankie: Fuuuuuuck I’m supposed to be helping Benny move and now I’ve got a fucking boner

You: Show me? 😏

Frankie sighs, looking down at the tent in his jeans. Fuck it, he thinks, undoing his jeans. He slides them down to the middle of his thighs and moves his boxers down just enough that his cock springs free. He holds his dick in one hand and his phone in the other, getting the perfect angle.

“Hey man, there’s mor-“ Santi comes barging into the room, “What the fuck?”

“Fuck!” Frankie says, turning around, and pulling up his pants.

“What’s going on?” Will asks coming up the hallway.

“Fish is taking a pic of his dick!” Santi hollers out laughing.

“Fuck off!” Frankie huffs, buttoning and zipping his pants back up. His face feels like it’s on fire with how red it must be, turning around all three of them standing there looking at him.

“Fish, you’re supposed to be helping me move!” Benny laughs, “Not sexting your girl!”

“Ha. Ha.” Frankie mocks, “Lady gets what the lady wants,” he shrugs.

The guys continue to laugh, shaking their heads.

“Come on Fish,” Will says, “Let’s get the rest of this shit done and maybe you can leave early for your girl.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Frankie grumbles, looking at the pic he took before sending it to you.

Frankie: [image attached] I hope you know I love you because I just got fucking caught since you wanted a dick pic so bad  😜

You: Mmmm I love you too babe 😘

—

“Girls! Lunchtime!”

Frankie had volunteered to help Benny move into his new place which meant Missy was hanging out with you and Nora until he was done. Nora and Missy come bounding into the kitchen, sitting down at their plates and digging into the bag of chips on the table to pile on their plates.

“Hungry?” You ask with a laugh.

Missy and Nora nod while grabbing a handful of chips to shove in their mouths.

“How much more time do we have?” Nora asks with a mouthful.

“Sweetie, don’t talk with food in your mouth.”

“My bad,” Nora says, while Missy giggles.

You glance at your watch checking the time before picking up your sandwich.

“Looks like you girls have about an hour left before Missy’s dad comes to get her.”

“Can we play in the sprinkler after we eat?!”

“Can we?!” Missy asks with the same puppy dog eyes as her father.

“I guess that would be okay,” you shrug, “you can just borrow Nora’s old swimsuit, it should fit.”

“Yes!” Both girls shriek in triumph, picking up their sandwiches and taking big bites to try and finish faster.

“Hey now, slow down,” you murmur after taking a bite of your sandwich, trying to cover your mouth with your hand.

“Momma,” Nora says, “Don’t talk with food in your mouth!”

—

The girls are outside running through the sprinkler while you clean up the kitchen from lunch. You hear your ringtone blaring just as you finish putting dishes in the dishwasher. The picture of Frankie from your first date shows up on the screen, causing a grin to spread across your face.

“Hello?”

“Hey babe,” Frankie says, even though you can’t see him you can hear the smile on his face.

“Hey babe! Ooo-la-la!” You hear in the background along with someone moaning, “Oh Fish!” And obnoxious kissing sounds.

“Fuck off!” Frankie grumbles as the background noise gets softer and softer, “Sorry about that.”

“It’s all good,” you laugh, “How are the guys?”

“Being assholes,” Frankie grunts, “but they also wanted me to forward their hellos”

“Tell them I say the same and that I don’t call you Fish,” you say, unable to wipe the grin off your face.

“No you do not,” Frankie purrs into the receiver, “Miss you baby.”

“Frankie,” you groan, “Don’t start that.”

“Start what?” He asks with fake shock in his tone.

“You know what!”

“Alright, alright,” he laughs, “How’s Missy? Is she behaving?”

“She’s good! Frankie, she always behaves, stop worrying about that. You’ve done good with her,” you smile, looking out the kitchen window, “They’re outside right now running through the sprinkler.”

“Do I need to stop at my place and get clothes for her?”

“Nah,” you say with a shrug, “She’s wearing Nora’s old swimsuit.”

“Okay,” Frankie laughs, “Oh before I forget! Benny is going to throw a barbecue at his house once he gets settled and he would like it if you and Nora came too.”

“Frankie,” you say softly, “As much as I would love to. Is that really a good idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Me and Nora showing up to Benny’s,” you sigh, “Nora and Missy don’t know that I know your friends or that we’re together, I think it might give off a confusing message.”

“Yeah,” Frankie sighs, “I guess you’re right.”

“I’m sorry babe, I really am.”

“No it’s okay, I just didn’t think about that.”

“One day,” you sigh dreamily.

“One day,” Frankie repeats, “I better go, I think we might finish sooner than we thought but I’ll let you know.”

“Okay,” you smile, “Just let me know. I love you!”

“I love you too babe, I’ll see you soon.”

—

Your phone pings and a text from Frankie pops up.

Frankie: Hey. Girls still playing in sprinkler?

You: Hey. Yeah

Frankie: Come let me in 😉

Confused for a moment, stepping towards your front door peering through the peephole to see Frankie standing on your front porch. Smirking, you open the door.

“What are yo-“ Before you can even finish your sentence Frankie grabs you pulling you into a hungry kiss, letting out a soft moan when his hands grab your ass.

“Frankie,” you whisper, pushing your hands softly against his chest, “We can’t.”

“They’re distracted,” He hums, his nose tracing along your jaw, nipping your neck gently, “We can make it quick.”

You can hear the girls' laughter outside, he’s right - they are distracted. Nora won’t leave that sprinkler until someone makes her and Missy won’t leave it unless Nora does.

“Okay,” you smirk, hands trailing down to his waist, hooking your fingers into the belt loops on his jeans and pulling him towards the couch “But seriously we need to make it fast.”

Frankie nods with a dopey grin, and pushing him to sit, you straddle him. His hands immediately grip your hips, pulling you down on the bulge trapped in his jeans.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he sighs as your lips trail along his neck, softly sucking on his pulse point causing him to groan.

“I’ve missed you too,” you giggle, grinding your core against him. Frankie’s mouth drops open at the friction, “But you gotta be quiet too,” you say smirking as you undo his belt.

“Up,” he grunts, slapping the side of your ass. Hastily he maneuvers your body so that your chest is against the arm of the couch, slipping your leggings and underwear off you just enough and he lets out a pained groan seeing your wet slit, “Fuck, wish we had more time.”

You feel his thumbs spreading your lips open and his breath ghosting against your core, giving a barely there kiss to your bundle of nerves.

“Frankie,” you whine, “Please.”

“Tranquilita,” Frankie huffs, his thumb running circles against your clit,  “Wish I could give this pussy the treatment she deserves.”

“Fuck,” you moan, “We don’t have that kind of time, baby.”

“I know,” Frankie sighs, as you hear the button and zip of his jeans, the rustle of them being pushed down, turning your head you see his hand gripping his shaft, a soft groan crawls out his throat as he gives it a few pumps before pressing against your entrance. The head swiping up and down along your slit, causing you to squirm. Frankie grips your hip sharply to keep you still, pushing his cock in, your walls parting to make room for him. Simultaneous groans come from the both of you as he pushes in deeper until you feel his hips against your backside.

“Fuck baby,” Frankie groans, his hand on your hip gripping tighter, “Feel so fucking good.”

“Move,” you whine, hands gripping the cushion in front of you, “I need you to move.”

Frankie hums, pulling out an inch and slowly moving back into your heat. His other hand moves to the opposite hip, placing a firm grip there.

“Frankie,” you whine again, trying to move your hips against him but his hold on them becomes even tighter “More. I need more.”

“Tranquilita bebé,” Frankie says calmly, still keeping the same tempo working you open, “Gotta get used to it first, don’t wanna hurt you.”

He was right, the last time you had a quickie it hurt, but this was starting to feel like torture. Slowly rutting into you, you want it harder, want to feel him tomorrow every time you moved.

“Fuck,” Frankie softly hisses, feeling his cock pull out until only the tip is inside before plunging back into you harshly.

“Oh god,” you gasp, feeling his length scrub along your walls, “Frankie!”

Frankie’s hips begin to snap into you at a frenzied pace, the sound of skin clapping bouncing around your ears. His hand slides down between your thighs to access that sweet spot, swirling two fingers around it, causing you to let out a loud moan.

“Bebé,” Frankie tuts, his arm leaving your hip to lean over you, his chest flush with your back, slowing the pace of his hips, “Gonna need you to hold those noises in for me,” he whispers into your ear, giving your neck a soft bite.

“Mmhhmm,” you choke out, feeling the flutter of your walls as he hits that spot inside of you that makes your vision go blurry.

“God damn it,” Frankie groans, sucking in a sharp breath and pistoning into your cunt, “I need you to come,” moving his fingers faster against your clit.

Your grip on the couch becomes tighter, that warm feeling below your belly button becoming a raging inferno, the sound of your wetness smacking against Frankie’s balls as he continues brutally rutting into you.

“Fu-“ you start to sob as he clamps his hand across your mouth, leaving you to whimper into his hand as you reach your peak, coming undone beneath him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Frankie pants, beginning to chase his own climax as your walls constrict his cock, hips losing their rhythm, “Where can I - fuck - come? Where?”

You grip his hand moving it from your mouth, “I- In- Inside,” you stutter out.

“Dios mío,” he growls, grinding into you, feeling his cock twitch as he paints your walls with his spend, slumping against you, “Fuck me,” he whispers between your shoulder blades.

“Well,” you smile, “I didn’t do that but you did just fuck me.”

Frankie lets out a small laugh, rolling his forehead against your upper back with a shake of his head.

“You’re something else, bebé,” Frankie laughs, pulling out as you both groan.

There’s a smack at the backdoor and you hear your name being yelled.

“Nora fell!” Missy shouts from behind the door.

“Fuck,” you say, quickly sitting up, pulling your underwear and leggings up, “Mom duty.”

Kyla! 🥵

Just what I needed on this wonderful Frankie Friday 😍

Is it Friday?

Well hello there Mr Morales

Well I’ll be damned! 😮‍💨🥵 This was delicious!

The nap

0k8 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 | masterlist Summary: you wake up after a nap, and use Joel to get off Warnings: 18+ mdni. Established relationship, somnophilia, dirty talk, piv, creampie

a/n: same couple: 5 days collection, but can be read alone I had another fic in mind for them, but here we go Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing 💕😘 and @saradika-graphics for the dividers 🙏

You woke up in the afternoon after a nap. Joel's cock was still inside you after he fucked you thoroughly, lying against your back, breathing and covering your skin with kisses. And you both fell asleep.

When you moved slowly, his cock twitched inside you, and grew slightly. Slick ran down between your thighs, as you felt him swell against your walls. Slowly, you moved back and forth to feel his shaft harden. It throbed, taking its natural place between your folds. Gradually filling your pussy.

It felt good and so hot, that effect you had on him. To take advantage of him.

Joel had fucked you in your sleep countless times. But for some reason, you never used him while he was asleep. You knew he’d love it.

Your wetness was now covering his cock, the heat from his chest warming your bare back. You kept moving, slowly, very gently, so as not to wake him. You felt his cum dripping down to your thigh. A moan escaped your lips and you stopped for a few moments.

Feeling him grow inside you as he was sleeping made you shiver, and you held yourself back from fucking yourself harder on his shaft. To give your pussy what it was begging for. You breathed slowly to calm the fire, the desire and the need inside you, before resuming the roll of your hips. He was fully hard now, his shaft tight between your soaked walls.

“Can’t get enough of that cock, mmm, sweetheart?”

You stopped when you heard him, wondering how long he had been awake.

“Don't stop,” he said in a firm voice. “You wanna fuck me, baby? Come on then, fuck me.”

A new moan escaped your lips and you started sliding down his cock again. Harder. Your fist that had been clenched against the pillow released it, and your hand slid down to your crotch. Until he firmly grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t. You’re gonna come on my cock, without touching yourself.”

“Joel! Please, I don’t know if I can...”

“Keep moving, baby. Let your pussy feel it. She knows what to do.”

He pinned your wrist against your lower back and pulled away slightly to watch his cock disappear into your pussy. It was glistening, soaked with his cum and your arousal.

“God, you’re beautiful. It’s so hot, to watch you use me to get off.”

You whimpered, gliding on his shaft, listening to your sensations.

“Yeah, just like that. Use me, baby. Use my cock.”

He pressed his chest against you, and kept your wrist between you two. Feeling his whole body against yours always intoxicated you, and your pussy squeezed his shaft.

“She wants to come, sweetheart, I can feel it. Always so fucking needy.”

He growled. His nose was pressed to your ear and you could hear his heavy breathing, even if he was trying to calm it down.

Seized by a sudden impatience, as if it forced itself upon him, he thrust all the way in and pressed his pelvis against your ass, before letting you control the pace again. His cock was brushing against your g spot with each of your thrusts.

“Shit. That's good, baby. It turns me on to see you fuck yourself on my shaft. Couldn’t wait uh? No matter how many times I fuck you, you always want me in your cunt.”

“Yeah… yeah. Always need to feel your fat cock filling me.”

“Yeah? Until you come on it and milk it. She's gonna come soon, baby. She's screaming for it. You feel it coming?” He nibbled at your shoulder, making you whine, and his hand tightened on your wrist.

“Yeah, I… Fuck, Joel… I’m gonna… I’m gonna come.”

“I know, sweetheart. Come on, soak me. I want you to drool on my cock and balls. Come on, baby.” 

His words were the last thing you needed to come and your pussy clenched on his shaft. He kissed your neck as chills ran through your body, before trailing the kisses down your skin to your shoulder blade, his soft mustache making you shiver.

“Fuck, yeah… Always such a good girl for me. Don't stop moving, sweetheart. Keep fucking me until you dry my balls.”

You kept moving and his breathing quickened again. He let go of your wrist and gripped your hips.

“Shit. I need to fuck you. Can I fuck you, baby? Hard?”

“Yeah, use me, Joel. Take what you need.”

“Fuck…”

His fingers dug into your flesh as yours gripped the sheets. He began thrusting in, fucking your pussy with hard, deep strokes. Then faster, chasing his orgasm, growling, his nose brushing your back. His hand squeezed the back of your neck and used it as leverage, while the other was still holding onto your hip. Your moans grew louder, slowly turning into groans.

“Gonna fill you up”, he growled. “Oh fuck… fuck!” he grunted, as his cum started filling the depths of your pussy. He didn't release you until both of you caught your breath.

“Jesus, sweetheart… can’t believe you never used me like that before. Need you to do this again, as many times as you want.“

Same couple: 5 days collection

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