F22 & M42.

F22 & M42. 

More from this couple here.

I feel like several times a year, mainly around special events like christmas and his birthday, a package for König gets delivered to whichever base he currently calls his home.

Everytime he sees the package and the name of the sender he already knows what's going to be inside.

The sender, who is always his mom, does not only send him sweets from his home country but also ridiculous amounts of socks, pullovers and hats that she knitted or crochet herself.

In conclusion, I think that big, scary König is secretly a Mama's boy who wears knitted socks in the most hideous color combinations with his army boots because they remind him of home and comfort him.

Also, should anything get damaged, he WILL send it back home to his Mama, asking her to please repair whatever it is because he can't bear to throw it away

Room mates were too loud during the first few minutes, so I had to cut those out. Trying my best to stay as quiet as possible.

German, M29

We were supposed to brush our teeth together but seeing each other half naked  distracted us. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other…

Cumming Full Circle (1/2)

Cumming Full Circle (½)

Credit: dollfxcethriller.tumblr.com

“I think my contractions are starting.” You sit on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped around your belly as a comfort. Your shirt is still twisted around you from our sex, emphasizing your swollen body.

I pause, half dressed, and look at you. “Lay back,” I say. You do. You know it turns me on to watch you labor.

After several seconds, you suck in a deep breath.

“Mmm yeah that was definitely a contraction, daddy. I’ll lay back with my knees spread, I need to stretch if this baby is coming.”

I watch you intently, turned on again by you, your belly, and your pain.

The TV still plays in the background, the flickering blue light a contrast to the warm light at the bedside that’s giving your face a glow. You’re calm, drawing circles on your belly with your fingers.

Keep reading

𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞 𝟏𝟒𝟏 + 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤

❀ character(s): simon "ghost" riley, john "soap" mactavish, kyle "gaz" garrick, captain john price

❀ word count: 1,496

❀ cw/tw: rigger dom!simon, overstimulation, use of toys and restraints, sub crybaby!soap, edging, a wee bit of dacryphilia, soft dom!kyle, so so so much praise, pleasure dom!john price, slight exhibitionism, also a lot of praise, like so much praise with all of them, the strictest dom is simon and he's not even that bad klasjdfh

❀ a/n: yes, i do plan on re-writing my favorite pieces to fit my favorite military man. no, you cannot stop me. yes, i'm doing this first thing when i wake up and yes, i also have an incredibly soft simon piece in the works. no, i haven't been to therapy in a little bit because of the holiday season and doctor's offices have been closed. enjoy!

❀ SIMON RILEY takes his time to admire his handiwork, and you watch his fingers run along the rope wrapping your body, their movements slow but deliberate. He’s always been amazed at how mesmerizing the colors look against your skin, how different knots bring out different curves, how you so readily trust him enough to restrain you. Amber eyes drag themselves along your body, and he smirks when he notices how much your thighs are twitching. The hitachi wand tied against your inner thigh and pressed against your soaking slit is nothing short of overwhelming as it steadily brings you to your third orgasm in a row, and his hard dick twitches in his pants. “Going to cum again already, love? How many is that so far—two? Three? Maybe even four?” He doesn’t expect an answer, and you don’t offer one. Instead, he takes his time unbuckling his pants, long fingers sliding his belt off and shimming the fabric down until it pools at his feet. He’s always had a pretty, fat cock—more girth than length, slightly curves to the right, pretty pink head with a few prominent veins trailing up his shaft—but with the slit weeping with precum and the head flushed more red than it’s usual pink, swollen with neglect and need, you find yourself moaning at the sight. “Aw, do you want me to fuck you? C’mon, answer me, baby. Do—you—want—me—to—fuck—you?” He emphases each word with a pump of his cock, his shaky hand the only indicator that he’s craving being inside of you as you whimper and mewl in the ropes. “Maybe if you weren’t such a fucking brat earlier, you’d be getting fucked properly.” “S-S-Simon,” you cry out. “I don’t know how much more I can take. Please! I-I’ll do anything!” His dark eyes flash at that, and he kicks off his pants to allow himself to walk to you. “Anything?” “Anything, Si!” “Then open your mouth, love, and show me you’ll take anything from me.” His soft fingers clutch your cheeks, not too roughly but enough to where the sides of your jaw ache a little, eyes piercing yours as he slowly lets a dribble of spit fall from his pursed lips. “Hm, guess you really are desperate for my cock”

❀ JOHN MACTAVISH looks as if he’s about to burst out crying any moment, unshed tears making his eyes look similar to a pair of shining hematite, hips flexing as you hover over him. Precum is smeared all over his muscular thighs and his neglected cock twitches against his thigh, but he remains laying down on the bed just as you instructed. “So impatient, aren’t you?” you coo down at him, stroking at his heated cheeks. “Jus’ want you,” he mutters back, and he drags his eyes up to meet yours. “Always want you, hen.”  For as petulant as he seems outside of the bedroom, he almost appears to be calm right now despite the frustration causing his fingers to tremble at his sides. You bring your leg up and over his hips so you’re now straddling him, and he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth when he feels your bare pussy brush against his dick. “Want me so bad, hm?” He groans and throws his head back. “So, so bad, baby. Please. Let me make you feel good.” Rather than using your words, you slowly roll your hips, feeling his cock throbbing right against your soaking slit, watching the way his eyes roll to the back of his skull, a sweet groan catching in his throat, his fingers coming up to dig into your thighs. You give another experimental roll, and Johnny’s actually whines out your name. “Pl-Pl-Please, hen. This isn’t fair. Just want to fuck you and make you cum all over me. Wanna be a good boy for ya’. Lemme do that, yeah? Just lemme fuck you and make you feel good?” Watery hematites scan your face for any indications of approval, and though his hands are shaking against your thighs, he still refuses to move until you explicitly tell him to. “Hm, open your mouth for me then.” He does as told without question, without hesitation, without even so much as a second thought, and you harshly spit onto his pretty pink tongue as soon as it peaks past his teeth. “And don’t swallow it until I’m done fucking you, got it?” He gazes up at you through half-lidded eyes, already slipping into mindless submission, and nods. “Anything for ya’, hen. Anything at all”

❀ KYLE GARRICK looks down at you with a heated stare, his calloused fingers drawing circles around your throbbing clit and eliciting another moan out of you. His broad chest heaves as he hears you squeak out his name and he quickly lowers his aching cock inside of you. Groaning, he dips his head into the crook of your neck and starts to leave open-mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet for me. You like it when I fuck your pussy like this, hm? Like when I angle my hips just like this?” The new movement has you curling your toes and arching your back so much, he has to push on your abdomen to keep you in place. “Ah ah, stay still, sweetheart. Wanna make you feel so, so good, but I need you to be still. Can you do that for me? Good, baby, good.” He then decides to cup your cheeks and turn your face towards his, and you nearly moan out his name again when you see how blown his pupils are watching you lose your mind on his cock, lips puffy and shiny where you bit and sucked them, sharp abs contracting the more he bucks into you. Your name spills from his mouth before he can stop himself, and he tilts his head back in order to let out a low groan, dark eyes watching how your face twists with pleasure. He’s solely focused on you and your pleasure, and that might just be the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced. “C’mere, pretty baby, open your mouth. Be good and open your mouth for me, yeah?” Once you do obey, he utters, “Good, good,” before resting some of his body weight onto this other forearm, sloppy thrusts never losing their rhythm as he brings you closer and closer to bliss. “So, so good for me. You know that, right? Such a good, pretty baby for me.” His spit shines under the lights of your bedroom as it begins its slow descent from his mouth down to your tongue, and he never dares to break eye contact with you. “There you go. There you fucking go, baby. Fuck that’s so hot, I could cum watching you”

❀ JOHN PRICE wraps his arm around your hips to steady his movements, his face nuzzling the back of your neck as he fucks himself into you. The fabric of his shirt brushes against the swell of your ass, and you whimper when you feel him bottom out. “Ah, there ya’ go, darlin’,” he moans. “Feel so fuckin’ good.” “John,” you whine out, and he kisses the back of your neck. “Shh, shh, I know. This’ll be quick, I promise. Just couldn’t wait ‘til we got home. Needed you now, sweetheart.”  The command room has always been a favored spot for frenzied fucks for some people, but there’s something almost-romantic about getting bent over one of the tables in the low lights and fucked gently. John is precise with his movements, how he angles his hips to hit all of the right places, where he places his hands and how tightly he grips on to you, the words fumbling from his mouth and how sweetly they paint over your body. He’s nothing short of mind-blowing, thigh-shaking, still managing to make your pussy gush all over him and still more than willing to clean it up. “Feel so fuckin’ good, darlin’.” He’s practically mewling as he picks up the pace of his hips. “Ahh, you’re so fucking pretty, you know that? So, so pretty as you’re taking my cock. Look at me, yeah? Can you look at me, baby?” Without waiting for an answer, he tilts your head towards him and smiles once he sees your eyes are shining with crystals and pleasure, never once losing his rhythm. “There you go, there’s my pretty baby. Can you open your mouth for me? Please? Just like that…” All tender coaxing as he allows a glob of spit to fall from his tongue onto yours, a low groan reverberating his broad chest as you never break eye contact. “Ahh, you’re so good to me, darlin’, so, so good.” He keeps stroking your cheek with soft fingers as you swallow, a loving smile on his face and his cock slowly pumping into you. “God, I love you so much. You’re so good to me and I fuckin’ love it”