you'd be the love of my life when i was young
summary: gryffindors wear their heart on their sleeve when they fall in love. slytherins keep their heart locked far away to keep it from breaking.
pairing: poly!marauders x reader (sirius x reader, remus x reader, lily x reader, and james x reader)
tags: slight angst, fluff, lucius malfoy, happy ending
note: i have a chemistry quiz due in 50 minutes but this takes priority. . . i haven't written in a while so forgive my rusty writing skills, they've only been let out from the basement today. not proofread, we die like the marauders. (title is taken from the song, 21 by gracie abrams, because that's roughly around the age jily die. hehe.)
They said when you fell in love with the right people, everything would fall in place after.
What a load of bullshit.
You had come to a conclusion one winter morning, laying in the Gryffindor common room dressed in your woolly, green jumper. You rested on the worn-out leather seat, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you stared at the ceiling, thinking about how it was going terribly wrong. How funny it was, that the 30th of December greeted you with an existential crisis instead of presents and hot chocolate.
There was something quite wrong with you, you had noticed for the past few months.
Every time Sirius Black smiled at you, showing off his pearly canines and the crinkles by his deep-grey eyes, you would experience a painful, tightening sensation in your chest — like someone was squeezing at your heart. Most people knew Sirius Black, the prankster, but you were lucky enough to know Sirius, the kind and spirited boy who had a heart that loved fiercely more than anyone you knew.
Cosy afternoons found you in the library with Remus Lupin, and a strange feeling would erupt in your stomach whenever Remus leaned down, and you’d catch a whiff of pine needles and fresh mint. Shaggy, blond hair falling over his eyes as he came to life, talking about your common love for muggle books. He made time feel like an illusion, minutes fading away into hours as the two of you shared stifled giggles, cheeks numb by the time you left the room.
And James, oh James Potter. It was difficult to describe what you felt with him — but with James, the brightest colours in the world couldn’t even compare to him. James was like putting on a pair of brand-new eyeglasses and seeing everything clearly for the first time. And without a doubt, you knew that James would never let you get hurt. But these days, you were weak in the knees as you’d see him across the Great Hall, waving at you excitedly as he bellowed your name, and to come and sit next to them.
Last, but certainly not the least, Lily Evans. Her sweet, airy voice was a warm hug on a cold day. And her actual hugs were second to none — don’t tell Sirius, however, he liked to shift into Padfoot to steal Lily’s title as the queen of cuddling. Lily flowers were delicate, she was anything but. The spitfire of Gryffindor, who would raise her chin and defy anyone who would harass you for hanging out with them.
(“You’re our emotionally constipated Slytherin,” said Lily as she mushed your cheeks, cooing when you tried to glare at her, and the three boys guffawing in the background. They liked to tease you often, being a year younger than them.)
Were you dying?
That was the only plausible explanation to your palpitating heart and rickety knees.
No, it was definitely not because you had gone and fell in love with your best friends.
That was absurd.
You had tried venting to Lucius Malfoy once. Narcissa often doted on you, sneakily leaving treats on your desk before she left for her class, and fussing when you got sick — which was quite often. That meant, when you weren’t with the marauders, you were trailing after the Slytherin power couple, or Severus.
(Lucius curled his lips in disgust, Narcissa sipping tea by his side, failing at hiding her knowing smirk. “I am above such childish matters,” hissed Lucius, scowl deepening when Narcissa laughed heartily, looking happier than she had been since returning home for the holidays. “I do not know why you’d even think to come to me for this.”
You huffed.
Maybe you’d try Severus next.
Naturally, he stormed off the moment Lily’s name fell from your lips.
Your resident seventh-years were confusing.)
Fortunately, you were stripped from your thoughts when the entrance to the common room slammed open, the paintings clamouring as they were disturbed from their slumber. One by one, the marauders piled inside the room, a string of melodious laughter and boisterous conversations following their arrival. Hastily, you sat up, heart thudding against your ribcage. Silence, you wretched beast, you told it. Don’t let them see how I burn for them.
“There you are!” Sirius came into view first, grinning widely as he crossed the room to reach you. “Who said you could be this pretty in the morning, love?”
Ba-dump!
Sirius plopped down head first onto your lap, manoeuvring your hand to comb through his hair as he sighed in contentment. “Bloody hell,” He exhaled shakily, “Last night was the worst one we’ve ever been through.”
Your fingers ghosted through the new scar etched across his sharp cheekbones — it was nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn’t fix, but you still didn’t like the sight of them bruised and wounded. Swiftly, Sirius grabbed your hand and intertwined your own with his. “I’m sorry,” You whispered.
Sirius chuckled tiredly, tightening his hold on you, as though you were a tether that kept him afloat in his sea of nightmares.
(And you were. If only you knew.)
“It’s not your fault,” said Sirius.
Then, your eyes landed on Remus limping towards you, his bare skin littered with scrapes and marks, supported with an arm around James’s broad shoulders. He sent a toothy smile your way, despite the tired lines on his forehead and deep bags beneath his eyes. “Waited up all night for us, huh?”
“I just couldn’t sleep knowing you guys were out there,” You whispered sheepishly. “It’s too dangerous, what happens if something goes terribly wrong, and it costs you your life? We need to tell someone.”
“Everyone who needs to know, already knows.” Remus bit down a pained expression as he sat by your side, head lolling on your shoulder. “This is the best we have for now.”
You didn’t like it.
You didn’t like it at all.
Before you could reply, Remus turned his head, lips feathering against your exposed skin. His voice was low as he said, “‘Sides, it’s our job to worry about you, not the other way around.”
“Well, I apologize for interrupting your job,” You whispered back harshly, wondering if that was all you were to them, a younger friend they felt the need to look after. Oh, how mortifying that would be.
James chuckled from behind you, bending over the back of the couch, he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, lingering for a few moments that felt like an eternity. “You’re too adorable,” said James, tweaking your nose. “Our angry, little Slytherin.”
“I’m not little.” You glowered at him.
“Perhaps not.” James smiled cheekily. “But you’re ours.”
Often times, you had wondered how the five of you came to be so tight-knit, knowing their disdain for most of the Slytherins.
(Little did you know, you smiled at them once in Potions, and they were a goner.)
Something stirred deep in your belly.
You sucked in a breath. “Don’t say things like that, James.”
People could get the wrong idea.
You could get the wrong idea.
“Well, why not?” Lily appeared in your peripheral vision, the scent of blooming wildflowers and fresh rain filling the room. Like the three boys, her skin was sallow from lack of sleep, but her bare face and blinding grin left your heart racing. “It’s true, isn’t it?”
It could be, just not in the way you wanted it to be true.
You sighed. “Class is going to start in a few hours, I should get going.”
“Or,” James began wickedly, throwing a thick blanket onto the floor by the fireplace, and tossing a bunch of throw pillows at Sirius’s face. “We could have a sleepover right here.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Lily merrily, stealing James’s blanket as she placed a pillow beneath her head.
“I really have to go—” You reasoned pathetically.
“Stay,” whispered Sirius without even opening his eyes as he curled his lithe fingers around your wrist. “You being here makes us feel better.”
They were too cruel, saying all these sweet words, not knowing how it drove knives through your heart.
James yawned as he laid on the carpeted floor, hiking the blanket up to his shoulders as he threw a leg over Lily, pulling her close to his chest, nuzzling the crook of her neck. “D’you have your textbooks with you, love?” He asked you drowsily.
“No,” You answered, any other words lodged in your throat.
“That’s fine.” James hummed. “I’ll just get the cloak and sneak into the dungeons later to get the books for you.”
“Sleep,” Remus urged you, unaware how you shivered at his words.
“You can’t be comfortable like that,” You told him in disbelief, watching his neck bend at an angle to lay on your shoulder.
“Trust me,” said Remus gently, eyelashes tickling your skin, “I’m right where I want to be.”
You had grown silent for a few beats, unaware how Sirius’d opened his eyes, staring at your worried expression.
(How could one person be so perfect, he wondered.)
“You alright, darling?” He reached out to trace the curve of your jaw with his thumb, the palm of his hand holding your face as though you were a pureblood’s antique treasure. (Mine, mine, mine, his heart screamed.)
But like the Slytherin you were, you lied as easily as you breathed.
“I’m fine.”
As you laid in between Remus and Sirius, watching the peaceful rise of Lily and James’s chests, you had come to a daunting realization.
You were irrevocably and agonizingly in love with your best friends.
And because fate liked to spit in your face, the four of them were already in a beautiful, committed relationship.
Who were you to get in the way of that?
—
They would understand, you convinced yourself.
They would understand that you had to stay away from them. You had to protect your heart and keep it safe. The marauders were a dangerous bunch, and they had played the biggest prank on you, and by Merlin, would you fall for this particular prank over and over again if it meant you could hear their voices and fall into their embrace.
But you couldn’t stay. They would only crush your heart otherwise.
If Gryffindors wore their heart on their sleeves when they fell in love, Slytherins protected theirs with every fibre of their being, locking it in a cage where no one else can have the power to break it.
Like what any love-stricken teenager would do in the face of heartbreak, you began to ignore the objects of your affections — ignoring the way your soul called out to theirs.
It wasn’t as obvious the first few days. You would escape their company under the ruse of studying for McGonagall and Flitwick’s practical tests.
(“They’re notoriously difficult after all,” You told them, a nervous laugh accompanying your lie. Peter eyed you curiously, noticing small details the others could not see — your quivering lips, your nails digging into your palms, and the way your eyes wouldn’t meet any of theirs. “I just don’t want to fail.”
You could have cried at the way James held the back of your head as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’ll do well, love. You always do.”
“You can study with me, if you want,” Remus quickly offered. “I’m not as good as James in transfiguration, but I can definitely teach better than those two.”
“Hey!” Sirius exclaimed in mock offence.
“Thanks, it’s sweet of you to offer,” You told them, shifting your weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. “But—”
“Say less, darling,” Lily interjected kindly, wrapping her scarf around your neck. She smiled at you, holding both your cheeks in her palms. “They’re the worst lot to study around, I know. Just don’t study too hard, okay? Take breaks, have a cup of tea now and then, and remember it’s okay to ask for help — don’t give me that face — if it gets too overwhelming, just ask. We’re here for you in every way you need us.”
Oh.
You were well and truly screwed.
“Thanks,” You croaked.)
But it was getting harder and harder to come up with excuses.
(“Wotcher!” Sirius grinned, encasing you in a tight hug after bumping into you in the corridor. “Haven’t seen you in a while, busy bee. Fancy a lunch with us in Hogsmeade?”
You scrunched your nose, red and bitten from the winter frost, stepping away from him and ignoring the way his face fell. “I. . . I can’t. I’ve got practice with the Frog Choir.”
Sirius shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “S’alright. I can wait and pick you up right after, then we’ll swing by that shop you really like—”
“I can’t, Sirius,” You interrupted harshly, wrapping your arms around your chest as your gaze dropped to the ground. “Sorry. I just. . . I’ll just catch you some other time.”
Sirius flinched. “Sure, love. Other time, yeah?”
But only the wind replied.
Saturday came, and along with it was the long-awaited match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. James, decked out in his uniform, bounded over to you at the Slytherin’s side of the Great Hall, oblivious to the death glares some of your housemates had sent his way. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, lifting you from your seat.
“It’s Quidditch day, pidge!” James tilted his head, awfully resembling a lost, confused puppy. “Why aren’t you dressed yet? It’s the game of games! Even Remus is announcing the game later.”
You bit your lip before responding. “I’m not going, James.”
“What?” He furrowed his brows. “Why not?”
Ever since you had become friends with James Potter in your first year, you had never missed a single game of his. Except for the one time you had fallen sick during his match against Hufflepuff — and the moment he knew you were ill, the game ended in less than two minutes, by his sheer determination to get by your side quickly and make sure you weren’t alone.
You sighed. “I don’t know, James, I’m just not feeling up to it today.”
It was a big, fat lie, and he knew it too.
You didn’t go to his match later that day.
It was one of the biggest losses James had ever experienced — he wasn’t talking about Quidditch.)
Your housemates were beginning to realize was something was off as well. They might not be particularly fond of the Gryffindors that captured your heart, but they were fond of you, and they guarded their own.
You had a stare-down with Regulus Black in the common room — and you weren’t about to lose — before he blinked and asked, “What did my brother do?”
“Nothing,” You replied, pretending to be engrossed with your herbology textbook.
Severus rolled his eyes before plucking the book out of your hands. “Spit it out, woman. We’ve had to watch you mope around pathetically for days now. It’s irritating the rest of us.”
You sniffled. “Then just leave me alone! No one asked you to check up on me!”
“Unfortunately, we can’t.” Severus took a seat beside Regulus. With a pained grimace, he said, “So you can. . . pour your heart out to us.”
“I can’t.” You wailed. “I’m a Slytherin, we’re the worst at that.”
Regulus shrugged his shoulders. “It’s true. We’re hopeless.”
“But,” He raised his wand, “We do speak in jinxes and curses.”
“Don’t you dare!” You blubbered, wiping at your tears — but somehow, without having to express it in words, they understood, and you had felt lighter.
Still, you missed them.
“This is pathetic.” Lucius enters the common room, Narcissa holding onto his arm, watching the scene before him with blank eyes. “Black, Snape, get out, you’re only making whatever this is, worse.”
Narcissa was by your side in an instant, dabbing at your wet eyes and cheeks with a handkerchief that cost more than your life. “Hush now, darling. What’s wrong, hm? Was it that idiot cousin of mine? Don’t worry, Lucius can tell his father, and we’ll have them begging at your feet by tomorrow.”
You cried louder.
“I jest, I jest.” Narcissa softly chuckled, pulling your hair away from your face as she tugged you close. “Please tell us what’s wrong. It’s been awful seeing you like this for the past few days.”
Lucius sat on the loveseat across you, resting his feet atop the glass coffee table. “Yes, I beg you — do as she says, for the love of Merlin. But, really, what else did you expect, associating yourself with that ragtag of miscreants?”
Narcissa glared at him.
Lucius raised his arms in surrender.
Narcissa clicked her tongue before returning her attention to you, eyes softening at your tear-stricken face. She smiled, albeit sadly, as she said, “Perhaps, I know what is wrong.” She gestured to the way you clutched at the front of your shirt. “It is the matters of the heart, is it not?”
You nodded weakly. “I love them.”
“And they, you,” said Narcissa. “So, what is wrong?”
“I love them!” You hiccuped.
“Unfortunately.” Lucius handed you a tissue. “The whole of Hogwarts knows this already, so I do not understand why you’re blowing snot all over my fiancé’s robes about it.”
“They don’t feel the same way about me,” You confessed with a sob.
Lucius stared at you incredulously. “Please do not tell me that you are this daft.”
“What do you mean?” You asked him through narrowed, teary eyes, Narcissa rubbing the tips of your numb fingers from crying so much.
“I did not sign up for this.” Lucius rubbed at his temples as he stood up. “I will only say this once, so make sure you are listening. Those Gryffindor idiots are so disastrously in love with one another — let me finish, damn you — and if you cannot see that they love you too, then it is your own fault. It physically pains me to see the way they smile when you are near. They would move the earth for you, and they would shake the heavens for you.”
—
Gryffindors must have hearts made of steel, because you didn’t know how they could be so brave, to look fear right in the eyes and say: I’m ready.
Because you surely weren’t. You were headed towards your usual spot in the courtyard by the clock tower, legs heavy and swell deep in your throat. Then, you found them, looking so achingly beautiful under the sunlight, huddled together for warmth as they smiled and laughed at lame puns and mistimed jokes.
Did you have a place with them?
You were about to find out.
“Hey,” You greeted once you were right in front of them. A month of evading them, and now you were here. It was like finding a piece of your soul that you had lost.
(For them, seeing you was like finally being able to breathe again.)
“Hey,” said Lily, devoid of any warmth, and that broke you.
Bravery was poison, you decided. A trap for weak-hearted fools like you.
Sirius shot James a look before clenching his jaw. “No choir practice today? No study sessions with Cissa or Reg? Wait, no, I’ve got it. Slughorn’s dinner party? Or is it detention with McGonagall today? Does her highness finally feel up to talking to the peasants?”
You inhaled sharply. “Never mind. This was a bad idea.”
But this — is what you deserved. You had hurt them badly, so it was only right for them to stomp on your heart for everyone to see, just as you did to them many times this month.
A sob tore from your lips as you swivelled on your heels, ready to flee the scene and never show your face to anyone else ever again. Yet, before you could leave, Remus clamped his hand over your wrist.
“Why?” He stared at you, searching for anything that could explain your sudden behaviour. Remus looked at you with such emotion, tightly holding onto you — but never enough to hurt, because Remus could never be capable of hurting you. He’d die before he would ever cause you pain.
(You made him feel unafraid of the moon.)
“Was. . . was it something I did?” Remus asked, laying his wounds bare for you to see. “Was it me?”
“I love you!” You shouted in the midst of panic — you had never wanted to cause Remus to doubt himself. Your loud declaration had caught the attention of some, but you stood on, curling your fists firmly. You needed to do this.
“I love you.” You said once more, breathlessly, staring right into James’s eyes. Such a beautiful shade of hazel. “I love each one of you. And it. . . it hurts right here.” Tears dripped from your eyes to the side of your chin as you splayed your hand over where your heart rested.
“Because you don’t feel the same.”
The four of them simply gazed at you, slack-jawed and wide-eyed.
You took that as confirmation for what you had been fearing all along.
“And that’s okay if you don’t,” You snivelled, unable to see clearly with the streams of tears in your eyes. You thought of how Sirius melted at Lily’s touch and how Remus was the anchor to James’s wild streak. How they all complemented each other and fit perfectly like puzzle pieces. “Just give me a few months, and I’ll get over it. It’s a stupid crush anyway, it’s my fault. The four of you are perfect together, how could—”
“Shut up,” James hissed before cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss. Cherries and pumpkin pasties. He kissed you deeply once more before pressing his lips to your eyes, desperately washing away your tears with his devotion. “Was that it? We could have been doing this ages ago.”
“What?” You rasped, knees buckling at the weight of his gaze.
James only smiled, stealing your third kiss.
Sirius pulled your hand, his arm encasing your waist as you stumbled to his chest. Like James, he kissed you fervently, like he wanted to chase off all your fears and doubts. His lips were warm against yours — firewhiskey. You wanted to be burnt by his flames again and again. He held you close, committing every inch to memory.
(You were art that he wanted to worship.)
He kissed your forehead. “We love you, daft girl.”
He kissed both of your eyes, chuckling when a new wave of tears came. “We have loved you ever since you burnt my mother’s howler in fourth year, and gave us poorly-knitted sweaters for Christmas.”
“I love you,” said Sirius. “As certain as the spring that arrives after winter, I love you.”
You snuffled. “I. . . I don’t understand.”
Remus stepped in your line of sight to place his jacket over you — it was Sirius’s leather jacket, really, but Remus liked to claim it occasionally. He bundled you in earmuffs and rested his chin atop your head, exhaling in relief. “I thought it was me.”
You shook your head, clinging to the front of his shirt. “No, never. It was me. I’m sorry.”
Remus grinned wolfishly, eyes swooping down to your kiss-stained lips. (There you were, standing in the snow that threatened to melt, eyes rimmed with tears, hair wildly ablaze from the cold breeze, cheeks damp and red — but how devastatingly beautiful you were.) “May I?”
You nodded. “P-Please.”
Blueberries and dark chocolate. Remus whispered against your lips, “If it wasn’t already clear, the feeling is bloody mutual — we love you, just as the moon loves the sun enough to chase after it every day.” He grabbed your hand and placed it over his heart, you were surprised to see him holding back tears of his own. “All my life, I thought I was this monster who didn’t deserve to live. But you, all of you, make me selfish enough to want to belong here.”
He kissed you desperately, words of adoration and love falling from his lips.
Finally, your eyes settled on Lily. You waited for her reaction with a bated breath.
You hadn’t expected for her to burst into tears as she rushed over to you.
“Don’t you ever do that again,” said Lily angrily before circling you in her embrace, burying her nose in your hair. You hugged her back, drowning in her scent and warmth. “You are deserving of all the things you want, so don’t run away — if you run, we’d follow you, idiot girl.”
Then, Lily captured your lips with her own.
She tasted like happy endings.
note: 4k words and 6 hours later, here we are! let it be known i was THE poly marauders enthusiast years ago. i always wanted one with lily in the polycule so here we are. this is me manifesting my college romance, y'all. look away. anyways, i hoped u enjoyed it!! brought a smile to your face and all!! might make a part two for more fluff and to establish more relationship dynamics since this was written on a whim ;D also i planned a cute scene with peter as well, so i'll just write that in part two el em ay yo.
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feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART TEN
masterlist | kofi | notifs | *spongebob narrator voice* 4 months later.
well, i'm not gonna bore you all with excuses, god knows most of you have heard what's been goin' on with me at this point lmao. but yall have been so patient and lovely and i really really appreciate it. i hope you enjoy this chapter; it's a little bit of bliss before things get... interesting. there's still more to come (about four chapters or so) and i'll try to update much sooner next time but please remember i'm only one person & i write this for fun (and for free) in my spare time!!! ik it can be frustrating when there are long periods between updates but i'm trying my best, please know that. k love u bye 💕
chapter summary: you & joel enjoy your little weekend getaway, far from the prying eyes and ears of your parents.
rating: 18+ explicit
warnings: age gap (reader is early 20s, joel is mid 50s), unprotected p in v sex, creampies, dirty talk, praise kink, size kink (joel has a big dick), tummy bulge, deepthroating (or...attempted deepthroating), cum swallowing, fingering, pussy kisses, ridiculous amounts of fluff, namedropping one of my fav songs of all time because i can, the tiniest mention of sexual assault (aka noah)
word count: 12.9k
ao3
You think you might finally understand what it means to experience happiness.
Not the feelings you've faked for most of your life, not the plastered-on smiles and faux giggles, autopilot prayers and forced gratitude. No - real happiness. That tingling sensation of nothing but pure bliss, safety, love, and peace, something that's felt far out of your reach for most of your life. It swells in your chest, makes a home in your heart as you nuzzle into fluffy pillows, warm bedsheets, and feel yourself drift in and out of consciousness, completely and utterly relaxed. Happy, you can't help but think to yourself, I'm so happy.
You're aware of Joel's presence, fading in and out here and there as he wipes a damp cloth between your legs, across your stomach, down your thighs - taking care of you, making sure you're comfortable. Afterward he cuddles in behind you and wraps his arms around your middle, buries his face in the back of your neck and inhales deeply; you wonder if he's feeling the exact same way you are right now - god, you hope he is.
"That felt so good," you murmur to him softly, eyes still closed, "Felt so good, Joel."
He kisses your neck, holds you tighter in his embrace, "I know, babygirl."
"Can still feel you inside me," you breathe, "It's like you're still there."
He chuckles softly, "Not to burst your bubble but that's probably cum. Couldn't get all of it with the cloth." The words that should be dirty - should seem shameful - do nothing but send a warm tingle down your spine, a sleepy smile to your face. You know he's right - you can still feel something warm deep inside you, a slow trickle making its way to your opening, but there's something else. You're still pulsing every so often around the phantom of a shape, an echo of what was still there only a few moments ago.
"It's not just that," you shuffle in the sheets, nuzzling your face further into the pillow, "it's like... like you're still in there, spreading me open."
He groans and his grip around you tightens, fingertips pressing into the malleable softness of your belly. He leans down to press a small kiss to your ear, "Can't just say stuff like that, angel. Gonna get me hard again." You shiver.
"Good," you whisper, "'Cause I want you to do it again."
His legs tangle with yours under the sheets as he pulls you in, scruff nuzzling against the bare skin of your shoulder, "We'll wait a little bit," he murmurs, "You're gonna start feelin' a little sore soon, if you don't already."
"I don't," you breathe, and you mean it. "Doesn't hurt at all, really. It... it didn't hurt. I always thought it would hurt."
You can almost feel his frown against your skin, "S'not supposed to hurt," he murmurs, "Woulda stopped if you'd been in any pain."
You smile, "I know you would've."
He hums into your hair, strokes his hand down along your arm, "S'good," he mumbles, and you're suddenly aware of the heaviness in his voice, the way his lips wrap lazily around the words.
"Are you sleepy?" you ask softly.
"Yeah, baby," he breathes, "M'sleepy."
You smile at the adorable admission, then lean back into his embrace and settle in. The sun is starting to go down, casting the room in long orange and blue shadows, warm and comforting. Your eyes close again and you focus on that blissful feeling, on the weight of Joel's naked body behind you holding you close, the sound of his breathing, his smell. On the fact that you've never felt more safe in your entire life.
"I'm so glad it was you," you whisper, and you don't mind if he's already fallen asleep.
--
You're not sure how long you both nap, but you wake up soon after to a completely dark hotel room, save for the flickering lights from the traffic below and the warm glow of the buildings outside the window. Your eyes flutter for a few seconds as your brain reconnects you to the present, and you're suddenly very aware of a dull ache in your groin, an unpleasant throb that hadn't been there earlier.
"Ow," you mumble incoherently, reaching blindly for the blankets and pulling them back to peer down at yourself, but the room is so dark that it's difficult to see anything properly, "Ow."
"S'wrong?" you hear Joel mumble beside you, stirring from his own slumber.
You wince in embarrassment, shaking your head, "It's nothing, go back to sleep."
"Y'said 'ow'," you feel him sit up and reach over to turn on the lamp, "You okay?"
As soon as the lamplight floods the room your eyes cast downward, half expecting to see some medical emergency, some horrific reason for the vacation to end early, to ruin everything before it's barely even started - but thankfully it's none of those things. You're just a little swollen - puffier than usual - and aching, but not in a good way. You bring your hand down and cup yourself gently, hissing a bit when your fingers brush against your opening; it feels almost like a bruise.
"Oh, honey," Joel murmurs, and you turn your head to see his brows furrowing in concern, "Y'sore?"
You wince, biting your lip, "Um, a little."
He frowns and pulls his own side of the blankets back, and you can't help the warmth that floods your cheeks when you see his exposed body; the dark hair wisping across his tan skin, his soft belly and strong thighs - and his cock, soft and heavy and impossible not to look at. You've seen him naked several times at this point but every time still somehow feels like the first, like it's brand new. You watch as he crawls downward and gently places his hand on top of yours.
"Lemme see," he murmurs softly, and you allow him to pull your hand back, exposing your sore pussy to him. His brow furrows, "Aw baby, you're all swollen."
"Is that normal?"
He nods, eyes still trailing up and down, "It's normal," he assures you, "It's probably worse 'cause - well," he smiles sheepishly, peering up at you.
"'Cause you're so big," you finish for him, your own lips turning up into a smirk, and he chuckles.
"Yeah, that." You watch as he brings his hands down and very carefully thumbs your outer lips, pulls them apart to assess what's inside. He groans, and you're about to ask what's wrong when you see a thin stream of his cum dribble out onto the sheets below.
"Fuck," you both whisper at the same time, and when your eyes meet you can see that his are suddenly dark, glassy. You feel yourself begin to throb beneath his touch.
"Still full o'me," he murmurs, eyes trailing back down to where you're dripping, "Messy girl."
Your own eyes go hooded as you watch him lean down and press a small kiss to your clit; your hips buck up, a whimper slipping past your lips as his whiskers prickle deliciously against your sensitive skin. He smiles against you, kisses your clit again and darts his tongue out to taste, just for a moment. You whine.
"I know what you need, babygirl" he whispers, nosing your mound and closing his eyes, "I know what'll help."
Your mind races with possibilities. "Wh-what?"
He suddenly pulls back, crooked smile lighting up his beautiful face, "A bath. It'll help with the soreness." Oh. He presses another kiss to your clit, "If I can bring myself to stop kissin' this perfect pussy."
You giggle softly and he opens his eyes to look up at you again, smiling tenderly. He reluctantly pulls himself off you and climbs off the bed, reaching down to grab his discarded underwear from the floor. "I'll start runnin' the water," he tells you softly, pulling them on and taking a step forward to brush your hair out of your face, "You just relax, sweet girl. Don't move a muscle."
The bath is warm and inviting, lit candles lining the counter and floor and dousing the room in a warm glow; it's hard to believe only a few hours earlier you were on the verge of a panic attack on these very tiles. Now you lean back against the cool rim of the claw foot tub, eyes closed as you submerge yourself in the hot water. There's no panic or anxiety in your body anymore, just warmth and comfort and the welcome ache in your groin, the smell of vanilla in your nose.
"Good temp?" Joel asks softly nearby, and you hear his hand breach the surface of the water, testing the heat. You smile.
"Perfect," you breathe, eyes still closed, "Thank you."
His hand brushes lightly against yours under the water and he squeezes it gently, then murmurs, "I'll give you some privacy."
Your eyes snap open, "No," you cradle his hand in both of yours as your brows furrow, "Stay."
A smile breaks across his face, charming and boyish as he seats himself down next to the bathtub with barely any hesitation, like he'd been hoping you'd say that. He keeps hold of your hand beneath the water and tilts his face toward yours - you press your forehead against his and breathe a long sigh of relief.
"Feelin' okay?" he murmurs, "Emotionally?"
You nod, sighing contentedly, "More than okay," you whisper, "I... I still can't believe it actually happened." Your lips twitch upward and you press a soft kiss to his cheek, closing your eyes, "Thank you."
He squeezes your hand again beneath the water before pulling out and bringing it upwards to cradle your face, tilting your head to look at him. His eyes are still a bit sleepy, hair sticking up in all directions and that beautiful smile still lighting up his face as he thumbs your cheek.
"I should be thankin' you," he breathes, "For trustin' me like that, bein' so vulnerable with me." He leans in to kiss you tenderly, but his words send a sudden flutter of insecurity through your body and you pull back to look at him again, unsure.
"Was I... was I good at it?" you ask quietly, "Did I do okay?"
"Oh, angel," he murmurs, bringing his other hand up to cup both your cheeks and brush his nose gently against yours, "You did so good. So, so, so good."
He ends up washing your hair, a small but significant gesture that makes the feelings from earlier bubble up again, the warm fondness and tenderness and love. You lean back in the tub, eyes closed, lost in the sensations of his big hands deftly applying the shampoo and conditioner, massaging it into your scalp and making your eyes roll back. It's ridiculous how even this makes you throb beneath the surface, the ache dissipating a bit in the hot water. So much so that when he caps the conditioner and rinses your hair once again, you reach up to take his hand and squeeze, eyes still shut.
"Touch me," you whisper, voice already desperate, "Please."
He doesn't need any convincing, inching toward the side of the tub and reaching inside to cup your pussy in his big hand again, softly rubbing your clit. You whimper and tremble, gripping the edge of the tub for support and whining when he speeds up, circling and rubbing it exactly how you like it.
"Poor little pussy," you hear him murmur, "Just needs some relief after gettin' fucked like that, doesn't she baby?"
"Mmhmm," you manage to hum, squeezing the sides of the tub and nodding furiously, "Y-yeah."
"Took so much cock in this little hole," he whispers, and that's enough to send you over the edge, eyes snapping open as you shake and shiver in the hot water. You see him sitting there, smiling at you with a devious glint in his eyes. He knows exactly the effect he has on you.
--
"What do we do now?" you ask him softly from the couch a little while later, carefully scrunching a towel in your hair and watching as he changes the bedsheets upon your request - you'd felt a bit embarrassed asking, but you'd really rather not sleep in a wet spot. He'd been more than gracious in honoring your request.
It's late, but the nap and the bath have left you feeling wide awake, and you have to admit that you're feeling a bit hungry too despite the full meal earlier. Does sex make you hungry? You file it as a question to ask Tasha.
"Whatever you wanna do, darlin'," he says with a smile, turning down the sheets and gesturing for you to join him in bed again, "C'mere."
You give your hair one last squeeze and pad over to the bed, clad in Joel's Grateful Dead shirt from earlier today. You don't care in the slightest that it's not necessarily the cleanest article of clothing to be wearing after a bath - it smells like him, feels like him. You just can't get enough of him.
Insatiable.
You both climb back into bed and he pulls you in immediately, tugging you close and wrapping his big arms around you. You lean back into him and feel yourself grinning without even really thinking about it, eyes closing as you focus on the feeling of his chest moving back and forth against your back with every breath.
"Always look so pretty in my shirts, babygirl," he whispers in your ear, and it sends tingles down your spine, a rush of warmth to your heart. He kisses you gently and you listen as he inhales deeply, nose buried in your damp hair. His hand travels downward and you both watch as he cups your pussy yet again, warm and soft.
"Feelin' a little better?" he asks quietly, thumb trailing gently up and down your outer lips, "Still sore?"
"Better," you reassure him gently - and you mean it; the warm water did help to ease the ache.
He hums and continues to trace your soft lips, nosing your ear and breathing deeply again, and fuck, you could get used to this. This casual intimacy, being touched without any expectations, any fear or anxiety. Feeling safe and wanted and cared for in his embrace, no worrying about getting home early, no time limit looming. Just you and him.
I love you, you want to whisper.
Your stomach growls.
He removes his hand almost immediately. "Room service," he says with a chuckle, and your eyes snap open again as he reaches over and grabs the menu on the nightstand, placing it in front of you both, "Pick your poison."
Your eyes are drawn almost immediately to the dessert section, followed by a short wave of guilt. You're craving something sweet, but you can't help but think back to being a kid again, asking for treats and being denied, feeling as if your desires were unimportant, childish, silly.
But no, you're not that scared kid anymore. You're not. You won't be.
You bite your lip, "You know what I could really go for right now?"
"What?"
"It's silly, but-"
"It ain't silly, babygirl," he murmurs, and his big hand travels down to squeeze your thigh gently, a comforting gesture, "Whatever it is, it ain't silly."
Less than a minute later he's on the phone with room service, ordering you a hot fudge sundae.
You spend the rest of the night nestled in the warmth of your hotel bed, flicking between channels, legs tangled together beneath the sheets as you take turns scooping heaping spoons of ice cream back and forth. Your mouth and fingertips are sticky, chocolate lining your lips, dribbles of melted vanilla dolloped on your chin which Joel wastes no time in delicately lapping up with his tongue.
"God, you're so fuckin' sweet," he whispers to you, kisses you softly, darts his tongue out to taste again. You hum against his lips and try to keep your emotions at bay; he tastes like chocolate and vanilla and safety.
--
Waking up is different with the morning sun shining brightly through the hotel windows, but that's not the only thing that's different; you notice as your eyes flutter open that the ache in your groin is gone, replaced by a growing hunger and arousal in the pit of your stomach.
Oh, wow.
Joel's arms are around you, wrapped strong and solid, and when you turn within them and see him sleeping next to you, the hunger only grows. God, he's so handsome like this - the grey in his hair sparkling in the early light, jaw soft and lax with sleep, cheeks flushed. Almost angelic in his own way, gentle and peaceful.
Until his eyelashes begin to flutter delicately against the streams of sunlight, brow furrowing in sleepy confusion at your sudden movement; he's awake.
The desire in your belly burns.
"You look so cute," you whisper without even really thinking about it, and his eyelashes halt their fluttering to give you another look of confusion.
"Cute's not exactly a word I'd use to describe myself," he mumbles, voice thick with sleep, "S'all you."
"Well, I would," you reply with a smile, watching as he closes his eyes again and nestles his face into the pillow. You reach forward to gently thumb one of the lines at the corner of his mouth, deep-set and soft beneath your touch. His eyelids twitch but he doesn't open them, "You're so soft too," you admit quietly.
"Again," he breathes, lips turning up slightly into a sleepy smile, "Not a word I'd use."
"Cute and soft," you repeat, thumb moving downward to trace the shape of his bottom lip, "And mine."
He chuckles under his breath, face smooshing a little more into the pillow, "M'yours," he murmurs, "all yours."
All yours.
You lean in even closer and inhale deeply, nose trailing up and down along his temple. Your eyes almost roll back at the scent of him, the masculine and heady aroma of his sweat alighting your senses. You're wide awake now, pussy throbbing somewhere below as you press a kiss to the apple of his cheek, tongue darting out to taste his skin.
His eyes open halfway, eyebrow raising as he sleepily watches you work your mouth up and down the side of his face, breath coming quicker and more frantic as your legs wind around him under the sheets. Obliging your desperation, his big arms tighten around you and he rolls the both of you, allowing you to settle on top of his large, warm body.
You stare down at him, hunger clear in your eyes.
"You were inside me," you whisper.
His mouth turns up at the corners, "I was."
"It felt really good."
"It did."
You lean your face down to trace your nose along his cheekbone again, eyes hooded, voice needy.
"I want you to be inside me again."
He peers up at you, sleepiness already fading from his expression as he watches yours with mirrored desire, "Yeah? You want me to be inside you right now?"
You nod, "Yes, please."
"Then turn over on your side, angel."
A little confused but certainly not opposed, you do as he says, rolling back over onto your side and resting your head softly against your pillow. You feel his hand dip downwards beneath the sheets, then his fingertips glide smoothly along your abdomen. Your heart hammers in your chest when he lifts up your - or rather, his - shirt and thumbs your tummy gently.
"Are y'still sore?" he murmurs, "How d'you feel?"
"M'wet, Joel," you whimper, grinding back against the blankets and trying to feel him, "M'really wet."
"Lemme feel," he breathes, hand trailing downward even further. His fingers dip into your soft, soaked centre and a low groan rumbles in his throat, "Oh babygirl, so wet for me."
"Put it in," you whimper, not caring how pathetic and needy you probably sound, "Please, Joel, put it in me again."
"Christ," you hear him mutter, arousal burning in his voice, "Okay baby, hold still, I'll put it in. I'll make you feel better."
Seconds later you feel the heat of his tip crowding the space at your entrance, already wet and sticky. A soft moan falls from your throat at the sensation, eyes closing as you feel Joel's hand cup your leg and pull it upwards, holding you open. He hooks it in the crook of his arm, shuffling forward a bit and pushing the head of his cock inside your heat.
"Oh, fuck," you whine, head falling backwards. You feel his nose in your hair again, feel the stretch of your pussy and the widening of your thighs as he pulls your leg up even more.
"Yeah, there you go," he murmurs, pushing inside further. He goes slow, takes his time, until he's fully sheathed inside of you and your eyes are rolling back on their own accord, quiet whimpers tumbling past your lips. "Yeah, look at you takin' that cock."
As if by muscle memory your hand reaches downwards to cup the protruding shape of him at the bottom of your tummy, a low whine in your throat. He's so big inside you, nestled perfectly within the deepest parts of your body just like he'd been last night, large and warm.
"Feels so good," you manage to gasp out, other hand clenching into a fist against your pillow, "So good, so good." It's almost a mantra, voice breathless as you squish your face against the cotton and push back almost lazily against him, his balls settling heavy and warm at the base of your ass. You can feel every twitch of his shaft, the way the tip pulses against that special spot within.
"Yeah, you like bein' full like that, don't you baby?" he murmurs, "Don't even need me to move, do you? Just like feelin' it in there, huh?"
And you almost hate how right he is, how just the sensation of being so full of him already has you on the edge of an orgasm without any stimulation. Because you want more, you want what he gave you last night, want him to fuck you even firmer, deeper, without holding back. You want it to last hours.
But you know it's too much before he even starts to move, that familiar ache in your groin returning as your walls constrict around the long shape of him. He pulls out slowly, takes his time, pushes back in at a snail's pace. You feel a tickling sensation against your clit, his pubic hair pressing deliciously against the wet skin as he fills you - and without any warning, you start to come.
"Fuckfuckfuck," you cry out into the sunlit hotel room, trembling in his arms, legs shaking. You can tell in his body language behind you that he's taken aback by your sudden release, hand suddenly dropping from your calf so he can palm your sternum and pull you against him.
"Oh, honey," he groans, simultaneously tender and aroused, "Are you comin', baby? You comin' just from bein' stuffed full like that?"
"Yes," you grit out, voice a high keen as your body shakes and your release stretches out before the both of you in quick spasms, "Yes, I'm sorry."
"Nonono, no sorries," his voice is honey in your ear, fingertips grazing your nipples as he lays his palm flat against your chest, "You're a good girl, angel. You're such a good girl."
You continue to spasm on his cock, legs quivering and pathetic whines tearing from your throat until your orgasm has passed and you're just leaning back into his embrace, eyes closed. You breathe deeply, lashes fluttering when he noses your jaw and presses a soft kiss to the space beneath.
"S'alot for you," he murmurs, "I know it's a lot, babygirl. Don't ever gotta apologize for comin' too fast, not to me."
You hum softly, still extremely aware of his girthy size stretching you out somewhere below. Your eyes open and you peer downwards, brows scrunching in wonder and pleasure when you see where you're joined, where his flesh meets yours. You really are full, the base of his cock barely visible beneath your folds, the pubic hair that had caused your early release still pressed against your outer lips.
"How does it even fit?" you ask softly, almost by accident, but he just chuckles.
"The human body is a hell of a thing," he murmurs, kissing your cheek and pulling you in even closer, shuffling you on his dick just a little bit and making you wince a bit with oversensitivity, "You want me to pull out?"
"No," you shake your head and readjust yourself in his embrace, taking a breath, "No, I want you to keep going."
"Y'sure?"
"I'm sure."
He doesn't need telling twice. Within seconds he's resumed his slow and careful thrusts, almost rhythmic in their presses and pulls, filling you and emptying you in melodic succession. You reach down and take his big hand in yours, squeeze his fingers and let him fuck you like he had last night - tender, soft, comfortable. It almost doesn't feel real; how are you in a hotel room in another city, wrapped up in bed with a man three times your age, his cock buried to the hilt inside your body while you whimper and twitch in his arms? How did you get here?
"Y'know, women are a bit different than men in the orgasm department," Joel says gently behind you, stroking your hand with his thumb, "You might be able to come again if we try."
Your eyebrows go up, "Really?"
"Mmhmm," his hand slips from yours and he reaches it downward to carefully prod one of his fingers against your sensitive clit. You buck in his arms but don't protest, watching as he temporarily halts his slow thrusts to rub you softly. Your eyes go hooded, body melting like jelly in his arms as his his thick fingers slowly begin to work against the already swollen bud.
"Feel good?" he whispers.
"Yes."
He continues his careful circling, presses a kiss to your shoulder and resumes fucking into you. The sounds are pornographic in nature, surrounding your senses and filling the room with the low slap of his hips against your ass and the wet squelch of your juices dripping down his palm. But it somehow doesn't feel dirty or shameful - in fact, it's hard to imagine anything that feels more right than this.
"Joel," you breathe shakily, face twisting against the pillow again, heart pounding.
"I know, feels good doesn't it, babygirl?" he noses your skin and breathes you in, hooks your leg under his arm a bit more and groans softly, "God, you're so fuckin' tight. Such a tight fuckin' pussy."
It's your pussy, you want to breathe, it's yours. I'm yours. But you can barely get any words out as his thrusts pick up speed, as the sounds get louder and his fingers against your clit become firmer in their movements. You can feel yourself teetering on the edge again, the fire in your belly burning hotter than ever as you let him crowd your space as much as possible, let his body push yours further and further until your eyes are rolling back and all you can feel is the steady thrust of his big cock and the girth of his fingers against your pussy.
"I'm coming," you moan out weakly, "M'coming again, Joel."
You don't hear what he says in response, ears muffled as if you're underwater, pleasure spreading throughout your body and hitting you at full force like a hurricane as he fucks you through it. You're barely aware of the sounds you're making, high pitched and almost feral as his hips slap against yours a few more times. And then you feel it, the hot pulses of his cum painting your insides, filling you up as his cock spasms and twitches deep inside.
"Oh, fuck," he groans, voice thick with pleasure and sleep as he buries his face in your hair, hips stuttering, "Fuck. Take it, there you go."
Yeah, you could get used to this.
--
You'd been pretty sure you wouldn't leave the hotel room this weekend, just like you'd told him a few days prior. The thought of staying wrapped up in bedsheets, warm bodies pressed up against each other, sharing soft kisses and quiet whispers and tender looks...it'd be more than enough for an enjoyable getaway.
But it's hot, way hotter than you'd anticipated before arriving - and the pool is calling your name.
Or maybe something else is calling your name.
You stand in the bathroom and stare at your bikini clad form, a smile curving your lips as you assess the thin straps and baby pink frills. To think you'd tried to return this to Joel, briefly refused to wear it. Now you're about to don it in front of a hotel pool full of people like a normal woman, like someone without shame, without guilt, without a mother who'd skin her alive if she saw her wearing it.
Your smile falters.
You'd texted your mother after getting out of bed, apologized once again for missing her calls last night and told her you had a "busy" day at the festival ahead of you, that you'd let her know when you leave tomorrow. All she'd said in response was Ok.
You'd climbed back into bed defeatedly, finding a home against
Joel's naked form, "She's mad at me," you'd murmured softly against his bare chest, squished into his side with his heartbeat thrumming in your ear.
"Don't think about her right now," he'd whispered, carding his fingers gently through your hair, "Think about this. How this feels."
He'd peered at you so softly, so full of warmth and affection. Those three words had been on the tip of your tongue again, so close to tumbling past your swollen lips - but you'd held it in.
It hadn't stopped you from texting Tasha though:
we had sex and i love him.
UM!! UMMM!!!! DETAILS????
monday!!! i'll call you
🫡 ok slut just leave me hangin i see how it is. AT LEAST TELL ME HE LIKED THE LINGERIE.
oh he liked it :)
queen shit
"Hi, pretty girl," Joel's voice says suddenly, and you're snapped from your reflection in the mirror to find him leaning against the doorway, clad in a pair of swim trunks and a Bob Dylan t-shirt, "Look at you."
You pose a little bit, hand on your hip, "Think the pool boys will like it?"
He laughs lightly, shaking his head, "I don't doubt it, but they might have some competition." He holds out his hand for you and you take it, stepping forward to let him pull you in close.
"They couldn't hold a candle to you," you whisper honestly, and he kisses your forehead with a smile, thumbing the corner of your mouth.
"Wait 'til you see my breaststroke, that'll really get you goin'."
You snort and slap his arm playfully, "Lead the way, pool boy."
--
Joel may have just been teasing about his swimming ability, but he certainly hadn't been wrong about it getting you going. You watch from the comfort of a lounge chair as he whips back and forth across the broad expanse of the hotel pool like a bullet, kicking off from end to end without much effort at all. His arms are strong and lean, body fast and nimble as the water splashes around his broad form. Every so often his face peeks up from the water and you catch a glimpse of his drenched scruff, the way the greying locks of his hair curl down his forehead into his eyes. God, he's fucking gorgeous.
You're laid out in your bikini just watching, letting him expel some energy before you join him. He'd told you he likes swimming but doesn't get to do it as much as he'd like, what with his work responsibilities. You wonder if he'd ever want to swim in your parent's pool...
You shake the thought away as soon as you think of it. There's no feasible way that could work, no option that wouldn't involve an obscene amount of risk. But still... the thought of watching him from the comfort of your own backyard, just completely alone without any bystanders or hotel guests...
"You gonna join me or what?" Joel suddenly calls from the water, and you blink the thoughts away and throw him a grin. He wades near the shallow end, arms coming up to lean against the concrete edge as he peers at you. "Don't keep me waitin', baby."
You feel your cheeks warm, unable to help but glance back and forth to see if anyone is watching, listening. Everyone else seems to be minding their own business, lost in their own conversations, their own fun. Nobody cares that you're here with him. Nobody cares what you're wearing.
Slipping from the lounge chair, you totter over to the edge where Joel resides and slowly sink down onto the concrete, kicking your legs over the side to seat yourself in front of him.
"God, these legs," he almost groans, immediately taking one in his hands and massaging your calf, your knee, your thigh, "Look at you."
"Stop acting like you haven't seen me naked," you tease, though you still feel a bit shy underneath his gaze as he moves his attention to your other leg.
"Doesn't mean I'm gonna stop admirin' this body," he seems lost in his own movements as he caresses the space behind your knee, "You're so god damn beautiful." His hands suddenly wrap around your waist and without much warning he's carefully pulling you down into the water, moving you in close. On instinct your arms come up to wrap around his neck.
"How the hell am I here with you right now, huh?" he murmurs, leaning down to brush his nose gently against yours, "How're you even real?"
"I could ask you the same thing," you reply a little breathlessly, "I've been asking myself that since we got here."
He slowly turns your bodies in the water, peering down into your eyes like you're the only people here - and you might as well be. You're unable to stop yourself from leaning up to press a kiss to his lips, from letting your tongue dart out to gently explore his mouth; he tastes like toothpaste and chlorine.
"Y'gonna swim with me?" he asks after you've pulled away, pupils blown a bit wider, "Gonna put that little swimsuit to good use?"
"I think I'm putting it to good use right now," you breathe, inching closer so your breasts are pushing against his chest. You're genuinely surprising yourself at your own boldness, especially in such a crowded place - it's almost like you're a different person here, the person you're supposed to be, confidence coursing through your veins. You stand on your tiptoes beneath the water, bringing one of your legs up to wind around his waist.
"Hmm," he hums, and his face is still dripping with water, the wrinkles in his skin peppered with little droplets that make you crazy, "You do have a point there, darlin'."
You lean in again to kiss him, feel a burst of pride in your chest when you see the sudden hunger and arousal in his expression. Just before your lips touch however, you pull back from him and throw yourself into the water, turning back to toss him a cheeky grin.
"Gotta catch me first," you giggle, then speed off in the opposite direction, leaving him standing there with a look of surprise etched on his face - followed quickly by a look of determination.
"Oh, I will," he practically growls, diving into the water in the same manner and reaching out to grab your ankle.
Time passes quickly in the pool, Joel chasing you back and forth, catching you time and time again until you're a giggling mess with tears streaming down your face and his fingers pinching your sides. You can't remember the last time you had this much fun, felt so free and light. You suppose your night out with Tasha had been a fun experience for the most part, until you remember the vague feeling of an unfamiliar body pressed against you from behind and the smell of alcohol crowding your senses on the dance floor.
No, don't think about that.
Before long you've exhausted yourselves, settled back near the edge of the pool where you started and just softly talking to each other. His big hands are all over you beneath the water, palms wide on your bare hips and tummy, caressing your thighs and your back, touching everywhere he can reach. You feel almost lightheaded with desire, eyes hooded as you peer up at him and tighten your arms around his neck, pull him closer and silently beg for more. You can feel the shape of his hardening cock through his swim trunks, pressed wet and heavy against your thigh. It makes you salivate.
You suddenly hook your chin into his shoulder, bury your face in his neck and whisper, "I wanna suck it, Joel."
"Yeah?" he murmurs, hands exploring your back and holding you tighter against him, letting you rut softly against his bulge, "You wanna go back to the room and suck on it, babygirl?"
You nod ferociously against him, "Yes. Please."
It doesn't take long at all for you both to be out of the pool and making your way back over to the chairs to grab your towels. It's frantic the way you rush to dry off, slipping back into your flip flops and shaking the water from your hair as quickly as possible. Joel follows suit, ruffling his own towel through his hair and making your body burn with need, lost in how sexy he looks with water droplets cascading down his large and strong form, dipping down his sternum and into his belly button. All you can think while you look at him is how badly you want to lick, to taste.
You're making your way back toward the entrance together when a woman runs up behind you, calling out, "Wait, hang on!" You both turn, confusion in your expressions as she reaches you and holds out something in her hand - your phone.
"I think you or your dad left this behind, sweetie," she says with a smile and places it in your grasp, "Gotta be careful!"
"Th-thank you," you manage to stutter out, eyes wide as she nods and turns away from you to head back toward the pool.
You stand there dumbstruck for a moment, thoughts muddled.
You or your dad.
Your dad.
You turn to Joel then. He's looking at you with what you can only describe as apprehension, lips downturned into a frown as he stands and waits for you to say something - anything. You stare back, words failing you.
And then you burst out laughing.
His apprehension turns into a smile, eyes crinkling at the corners as he laughs along with you and squeezes your hand in his tightly - as if to say, this isn't wrong, what we have isn't wrong and you know that. And you do, which is why he has to practically drag you back inside the hotel as you double over and heave out laugh after laugh, tears in your eyes.
"Silly girl," you hear him mumble under his breath fondly as he leads you to the elevator, and all you can do is keep giggling.
--
"I love your cock."
Your knees dig into the plush rug of the hotel room, ass sitting atop the balls of your feet as you kneel between Joel's wide legs. He's sitting comfortably on the couch, one hand resting to the side while the other strokes circles into the apple of your cheek. His cock is out of his swim trunks, heavy and hard in your palm as you slowly stroke him up and down, up and down, heart pounding in your chest.
You've done this to him before, you remind yourself, and he said it was good.
But not like this, another part of you argues, not properly.
"Yeah, you love it?" he murmurs, breaking you out of your thoughts. With his words his hand drops from your face and joins yours on his shaft, helps direct it toward your cheek so he can press the tip ever so gently against it, "What d'you love about it, baby? Tell me. Wanna know."
"It's so big, Joel," you practically whimper, brows furrowing together at the sensation of his warm stickiness on your face, "So big and so thick and long."
"I know, baby," he coos softly, smearing it along your jaw in a way that has goosebumps rising all over your flesh, "Bigger than your pretty face, huh?" At his words he delicately lays the length of his cock against your face from base to tip, lets it rest there as you close your eyes and try to calm your breathing. You're so fucking turned on.
"Big," you repeat, as if no other words can find their way to your brain, as if your brain doesn't even exist; all that exists is this. The feeling of his warm dick laying heavy across your face, precum leaking out onto your forehead.
"And what's it taste like, babygirl?" He's suddenly moving it downward, towards your mouth, and you happily lean forward to lap at the tip. It pulses against you, leaks onto the pink softness of your tongue. "Tell me what it tastes like."
"Kinda salty," you whisper, peering up at him with big eyes, "But good, it still tastes good to me." Your nose scrunches and you peer up at him sheepishly, "Tasha said it's not supposed to."
He laughs breathlessly, taps the tip against your bottom lip, and when more precum dribbles out you allow it to drip into your mouth. You swallow, eyes never leaving his, then swirl your tongue all around the head before slowly taking it into your mouth and suctioning carefully.
"God, you make me fuckin' crazy," his voice rumbles in his chest, eyes hooded, "Look at you suckin' on my cock." After a few seconds he pulls it out and taps your lips with it again, hissing a bit through his teeth, "Fuck, this mouth. And those eyes," his head leans back against the couch and he groans, low and deep, "You gotta stop lookin' at me like that, angel. M'not gonna last."
"How am I looking at you?" you ask shyly, a smile playing at your lips.
"Like... you're just so new to everything."
"But I am," you say with a breathless giggle, "It is new to me."
He smiles fondly down at you on your knees in front of him, so vulnerable, "I know," he tells you, "It makes me want you so bad."
"You have me," you whisper, leaning forward to mouth at the head of his cock once again, "M'yours, Joel."
His lids go heavy as you suckle gently on the tip again, reveling in the masculine taste of him and the way you can feel his heartbeat on the tip of your tongue. You suck it the same way you did last time - like a sucker or a popsicle - and you hope it feels good to him, hope you're doing it right.
"That's so good, baby," he murmurs, and you whimper at his praise.
You pop him out of your mouth and take a deep breath, peering up at him curiously, "Can...can you..."
His brow furrows, "Can I what, angel?"
"Can you show me how to... how to take all of it? Like, how to put it in my throat?"
The expression on his face is hard to describe, a mix of disbelief and untamed arousal. His mouth opens to speak but he doesn't say anything, taking a few seconds to formulate a response before clearing his throat and giving you a weak - and slightly wrecked - smile.
"Y'sure you wanna try that?" he asks you, ever the gentleman, "That's....it's a lot to take in your throat, babygirl."
"I know," you breathe, sincerity in your eyes, "But I wanna try."
He reaches down and thumbs a stray hair from your face, pushes it behind your ear, "You're probably gonna gag," he murmurs gently - a warning. "It might be uncomfortable for you."
You raise an eyebrow, "So... you don't want me to?"
He laughs breathlessly, "I... I didn't say I don't want it. But I don't want you to try something you don't feel ready for," he frowns, "Don't want you to feel any pressure with me."
"I don't," you admit honestly, "I don't feel any pressure, Joel, I promise. I just...really wanna try it. I want you to show me."
He takes a deep breath, strokes your cheek gently and then reaches down to hold the base of his cock again. Your hands fall to his thighs, still clad in his swim trunks.
"Lemme just see how far you can go without gaggin' first," he tells you softly, patiently, "Want you to stop when you feel it in that spot, okay? Don't go any further than that."
You nod, already beyond excited that you're learning something new, something that'll make him feel good. You open your mouth to take him back inside but he touches your face again, stopping you.
"Deep breath," he advises quietly. You do as you're told.
He helps guide the fat head of his cock past your lips, watches as you very slowly ease yourself down. You close your eyes, all your focus centered on this singular task, fighting to push past the slight discomfort of having your mouth stuffed so full. It takes barely a moment for you to reach the point he was talking about, when you feel the head of his cock brush ever so slightly against your gag reflex. On instinct, your eyes snap open, your entire body freezing in place.
"Right there?" he asks quietly, but you know he's not waiting for an answer, knows you couldn't talk even if you wanted to, "That's so much baby, good girl." His praise send throbs of pleasure to your pussy, warmth to your cheeks. Your eyes meet his and you can see how turned on he is, see the way the corners of his mouth twitch with pleasure. "Let go when you're ready, honey."
You hold yourself there for a few more seconds, eyes watering a little bit as you hold his gaze, just testing the power of your lungs and the strain of your jaw. When it becomes too much you pull your mouth off him and find yourself gasping for breath, fingers digging into the meat of his thighs as drool spills down your chin.
"How was that?" he asks, thumbing your cheek again with one hand and stroking himself with the other, working your saliva up and down his length, "Uncomfortable?"
You shake your head, "It was good," you whisper, voice a bit crackly, "I wanna try and take more, can I?"
He nods, smiles encouragingly and taps his swollen cockhead against your bottom lip again, slow and tantalizing, "Course you can, babygirl," he murmurs, "Deep breath."
You inhale deeply again, gathering as much air into your lungs as possible before sinking your mouth down onto him and allowing his thick girth to fill you all over again. This time when you feel him reach that spot, you let yourself keep going just a little bit further, allow the head of his cock to push more firmly against it and slip the tiniest bit into the back of your throat.
You gag immediately.
It's very loud; a dry wretch that you can admit sounds absolutely horrific in the current circumstance. Before you can even really process what to do next, he's tugging you off his cock, voice suddenly worried, frantic, "Okay, no, that's too much," he says quickly, and you look up to see him shaking his head, "You're gonna hurt yourself."
"M'fine," you try to garble out, but you're shocked when just talking suddenly sends you into a coughing fit. You bang on your chest and squeeze his thigh with your other hand, feeling more drool cascade down your chin and onto your bare chest.
"Angel," he says soothingly, leaning forward to pat your back, brows furrowed again in concern, "I'm sorry, honey."
You shake your head, "I-I'm okay," you splutter out, "Just gimme a second."
"It's too much," he repeats, almost pleading, "Please, baby, I don't wanna see you struggle, that's not fun for me."
As much as you hate the idea of giving up, you have to admit that he's right. That wretch had not been pleasant, and while you think you could eventually learn to take all of him, maybe forcing yourself to do it when you're supposed to be having fun on vacation isn't the best time.
"Okay," you mumble defeatedly, sitting back on your knees, "But I still wanna suck it."
He laughs again, relief flooding his features as he leans back on the couch and smiles crookedly at you, "You can still suck it, darlin'. Just take your time and don't push your limits, alright? Promise me."
"I promise."
You spend the next fifteen minutes or so playing with Joel's cock, stroking it with your hand, kitten licking along the shaft and head, just touching as much as you can without any time pressure for once. He pets your hair as he watches you, thumbs your cheeks and dimples, small groans tumbling past his lips, face scrunched in pleasure as you explore. You take as much of him as you can in your mouth, bob up and down slowly with your eyes trained on his face, feel the way his thick length twitches and pulses against your tongue.
It's almost feral the way you drink him down, hollowing your cheeks and basking in the way his body responds to you. You're so wet, aching to touch yourself but wanting this moment to be just for him, a thank you for this weekend, this hotel, for everything. Instead you palm his balls, roll them in your palm and revel in the desperate sounds he makes.
"I love your cock," you whine, repeating your earlier statement as you fist it up and down with spit pooling at the corners of your mouth, "I love it so much, Joel." You can feel yourself dripping in your bikini bottoms, feel your own slick gathering on your inner thighs.
"I know, baby," he gasps out, running one hand through his hair and the other through yours as his belly tenses and untenses, as his thighs tremble, "I know you love it, s'all yours, baby. S'your cock."
"My cock," you echo, almost a whimper, "Mine."
"Yours, it's yours," he moans loudly, hands curling into fists as his head hits the back of the couch, "Shit, I'm gonna come."
"Come in my mouth," you tell him immediately, wasting no time in sinking back down onto his length. He doesn't ask if you're sure; he's too far gone to be a gentleman anymore, and you love it. You watch as he suddenly sits up on the couch, reaches both hands forward and cradles your head in them firmly. He helps you move up and down, groaning as he does, and then-
His cock pulses on your tongue, thick and heavy, bobbing against the roof of your mouth. You feel a burst of cum hit the back of your throat, then another, and another, all the while Joel moans and holds your head in place, toes curling into the rug. Your eyes roll back as he fills your mouth, overwhelmed by the salty taste and thick texture, and - without really meaning to - you swallow around him to make more space. He practically whines at the sensation, pulsing once more to release one final burst of his spend.
And then he's falling back against the couch, cock popping out of your mouth, expression dazed. Without thinking about it you swallow the rest of his cum, eyelashes fluttering at the odd sensation of it all slipping down your throat. So much, gone in an instant. It's only then that you actually realize what you've done.
"I swallowed it," you say, panic suddenly brewing in your stomach, "Was I supposed to swallow it?"
He laughs softly, covers his mouth with the back of his hand, "It is perfectly fine that you swallowed it, darlin'," he smiles wide and opens his arms, "C'mere."
You clamor off your knees and crawl into his lap immediately, straddling his thighs and pressing your wet bikini bottoms against the slope of his belly. He lets out a little groan, pulls you in and strokes your hair.
"You did so good," he praises you softly, kisses your temple, "So good, baby. Made me come so much."
"There was a lot," you tell him, nuzzling into his neck and letting your breathing slowly even out, "S'why I swallowed it, I was trying to make room."
"Was it okay? It didn't make you gag, did it?"
You shake your head, a pout on your lips, "Felt good in my mouth," you whisper, "I liked it."
He hums, hands trailing from your hair to your bare back where he unclasps your bikini top and lets it cascade to the floor, then reaches down and tugs at your bottoms. You lift up carefully, let him slip them down your thighs and watches as you kick them off, leaving you fully naked in his lap.
"So pretty when you're bare like this," he whispers, and it sends more slick to your folds, oozing down and making a mess on his tummy. He cups your pussy in one hand and slides two fingers easily inside of you, thumb rubbing circles against your clit. You grip his arm, eyes falling closed and pitiful little sounds slipping from your mouth. "My good girl deserves a reward for suckin' my cock so good, swallowin' all that cum, don't you think?"
You nod, biting down on your lip and letting him fuck you with his digits, eyes rolling behind your lids.
"Yeah, you do," he answers for you, "You deserve it, angel. Always."
He makes you come easily, leaving you a messy, twitching heap in his lap as your arms wrap around his neck, body going lax and loose. After a few moments he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom, helps you into the shower, smiles when you peer blearily up at him through your afterglow.
"Just close your eyes and lean against me," he tells you softly as the water falls, removing his swim trunks and getting in to stand behind you, "I'll get you cleaned up, sweetheart."
--
You nap after your shower, exhausted and sated in every possible way. Joel wakes you up around two o'clock with more room service - sandwiches and soup that you devour with bright eyes and light conversation side by side in bed. It's domestic bliss the way he thumbs mustard from your lips, pours you more water, slices your key lime pie and feeds it to you with a fond smile.
I love you I love you I love you.
"Would it absolutely ruin this moment if I suggested tryin' our hand at a hymn?" he asks when you've both finished, wiping the crumbs on his fingers with a napkin and gesturing to his guitar case in the corner of the room.
You grimace, "I guess not."
"I'm just thinkin' about your parents," he places his hand on your hip - clad in another one of his shirts - and gives you a sympathetic smile, "It's probably best to pick somethin' and have it ready."
You nod. You know he's right, that your lack of preparedness these past few weeks has been pretty reckless considering it's been the entire "reason" you've been seeing him. With a sigh you slip out from under the covers and traipse over to the couch, listening as Joel unclasps the guitar case.
"I did some research," he tells you as he walks over, hooking the strap over his shoulders as he goes, "I think our best bet for an easy tune is How Great Thou Art. Pretty repetitive chord progression, only uses G, C, and D."
You make a face, crossing your arms, "I can't believe I have to do this."
He laughs, "It was either that or Come Ye Sinners, and I think that one's a little too on the nose, don't you think?" He tosses you a smile and you can't help but return it, feeling your frustration melt away under his gaze.
"Can we do that thing again where I get a reward?" you ask shyly, biting your lip. His eyebrows go up, a smirk lighting his face.
"Hmm, I think that's doable," he sits down beside you, tuning the guitar, "What'd you have in mind?" You notice the way his eyes dart toward your groin and your cheeks warm.
"I was actually thinking that maybe..." your hands play with the hem of his shirt nervously, unsure what he'll say, "maybe you could play something for me? You said last night that you've written some songs," you shrug, trying to be nonchalant, "I'd... I'd really like to hear one, if you wouldn't mind."
He peers at you for a few seconds, smirk fading briefly only to be replaced with a tender smile, eyes softening as he gazes at you. Warmth blooms in your chest. You never want him to stop looking at you like that.
"I can do that," he tells you quietly, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck, "I mean... I can't promise it'll be good, but-"
"I don't care."
He chuckles and nods, grips the guitar again and clears his throat, "Well, alright then. Let's get started."
For the first time ever, the lesson is actually a lesson. No undercurrent of sex, no inappropriate touching or sensual glances, no teasing or filthy words. You're not sure how you're able to hold yourself back so easily, able to really focus on what Joel is saying and showing you, helping place your fingers in the right locations and teach you the strumming techniques. Maybe it's because you're tired - you did come three times already today - but it's not just that.
It just feels so... normal. So easy. You think back to that first lesson, the nervousness you'd felt and the pounding of your heart in your chest, the anticipation and the fear.
It's different now. Now that he's been inside you, become one with you, it's like your whole dynamic has changed - for the better. Of course you still feel that curious nervousness, the innocence, the electricity between you. But there's something so solid and tangible about it now, something certain. Something real.
He shapes your fingers along the neck of the guitar, praising you softly every time you play a note that sounds right, encouraging you as you repeat the G chord a few times, then C, then D. You strum along slowly, taking your time, and before you know it you're playing something that actually doesn't sound half bad.
"We definitely need to work on buildin' up those calluses," he murmurs, stroking the tips of your fingers under his thumb, "Well... If you're gonna do this long-term, I mean."
You peer at him curiously, tilting your head to the side. He looks sheepish, like he's said something he hadn't meant to.
"You think I could do this, like... for real? As a hobby?"
His mouth turns up at the corners and he nods, "I think you can do anything you set your mind to, darlin'."
Your heart is suddenly in your throat at his words, emotion bubbling under the surface of your skin. You drop your hand from the guitar and reach up to cup his face, pulling him toward you to press a gentle kiss to his lips. He kisses you back just as soft, just as careful.
"Thank you," you whisper, tears pricking in your eyes, "Thank you for saying that."
He presses his forehead to yours, shakes his head ever so slightly, "Don't gotta thank me for sayin' what's true, angel. You deserve to hear it every single day."
You finish the lesson with tears still welling in your eyes, a lump in your throat. When you lean the guitar against the side of the couch he cradles your face in his hands and gently kisses the tears away, brushes his lips along your eyelids and cheeks, your jaw and your lips, saying everything without saying anything at all.
"Okay," you sigh, taking a deep breath and opening your eyes to smile sweetly at him, "Time for my reward."
He chuckles and rolls his eyes a little, reaching for the guitar and beginning to tune it again. You watch as he twists the keys, strums a little here and there, hums softly for each note to match his voice. Anticipation rises in your chest.
"Now, uh," he clears his throat a bit, avoiding eye contact, "It's been a while since I played this one but it's, uh," he takes a breath, "It's one I wrote when Sarah was born. Used to sing it to her to help her fall asleep."
You melt at the words, smiling wider, "What's it called?"
He finally meets your eyesight, lips pressing together sheepishly, "Sarah."
Oh, duh. You nod in encouragement, leaning back against the armrest of the couch and waiting for him to begin. He takes another deep breath, dropping his gaze to watch his fingers shape the first chord. It's then that you notice his hands - usually deft and steady - are trembling a little bit, so much so that he has to readjust his position on the strings a few times.
He's nervous.
He stares at his hand, takes another deep breath.
You wait.
"Sorry," he mumbles under his breath, "Sorry, just gimme a minute."
"It's okay, take your time." Your voice is barely a whisper, awestruck by the sudden vulnerability you're witnessing. He'd agreed to the reward so quickly, you'd been sure he didn't mind. But now as you sit here waiting, you're not so sure. You watch him take more deep breaths, watch as he closes his eyes and seems to center himself.
"If you don't want to-"
"I want to," he says immediately, shaking his head, "I want to, I've just... I haven't sung in a while."
Your brow furrows, confused, "You sang yesterday in the car, didn't you? And you sang Tangled Up In Blue when we first met, and that other one, the one from the eighties."
His lips turn up at the corners, a welcome smile, "Take On Me."
"Yeah, that one."
He sighs, tightening his grip on the guitar, "It's not that I haven't sung I guess. Wrong wordin'," he bites his lip, "It's moreso that I haven't sung this one. Or any of my originals. Not for a long time."
You frown, "How come?"
"I guess... I just..." he searches for the words, staring at the floor, "No one's really asked me to. And it's not like I'm playin' gigs or tourin' or any of that pipe dream stuff I thought about when I was a kid." He laughs humorlessly, like the concept is ridiculous, "So I guess I just kinda... stopped, after a while."
You feel a sudden sadness that you can't really explain, picturing that bright-eyed little version of Joel, stuck in a household that wouldn't let him grow, wouldn't let him be himself. All those dreams and big ideas, dashed before he was able to get out and make his mark. Life getting busy, too busy, other responsibilities taking up all his time until the thing he loved most became nothing but a memory. A pipe dream.
It makes your heart ache.
"D'you mind if I just..." he meets your gaze again finally, eyes soft and a little sad, "Could I maybe just hum it? Instead? I know that's kind of a cop-out, but-"
"Of course you can," you breathe out, hand coming down to rest atop his knee, "Of course you can hum it."
"I'm sorry, baby, I know you wanted -"
"It's hard being vulnerable, Joel," you interrupt him again, shaking your head and stroking your thumb against his skin, "God knows it's been hard for me, and you've been nothing but patient." You give him a watery smile and he returns it, "Please take your time. I can be patient too, I promise."
You can tell how much he appreciates it. He reaches down and picks up your hand, presses a gentle kiss to the back of it before setting it back down and taking one last deep breath.
"Well, here it is," he says with a little more confidence, a smile playing at his lips.
You've heard him play before, obviously; you've already seen the way his fingers work the strings like it's just second nature, the way his thumb strums out the chords effortlessly. But this time is different. Knowing what he's playing is completely original, born from his own creativity out of love and devotion, a father's affection and protectiveness, it just sounds special. New. He begins to pluck out a soft, slow, soothing melody that immediately puts you at ease, makes you lean back further against the couch and loosen your body. It's tender, quiet - a lullaby.
He hums softly, voice crackling a bit in his throat at first but then settling into a smooth and comforting sound. It's almost like a waltz, the way the chords change back and forth, in and out, slow and steady. Of course you wonder what the real words are, what his quiet hums are substituting, but you find that it doesn't really matter. What matters is the look on his face, eyes distant, as if he's picturing his daughter as she was when she was little. You try to picture it too, thinking of the photograph in his house, the one of him pushing Sarah on the swing. Just a father and his little girl, against the world.
It isn't a very long song. It fades out relatively quickly, and as soon as he strums out the final chord you sit up on the couch and clap ferociously, tears stinging in your eyes all over again.
"I'd usually, uh, play it a couple times for her," he says awkwardly, "'Til she fell asleep."
"It was beautiful," you tell him earnestly, "It was so beautiful, Joel."
He shakes his head with an embarrassed laugh and swivels around to go place his guitar back in its case. He doesn't say anything else, but he doesn't need to. You know how he feels when you spot the tips of ears, tinged pink, warm from your praise.
--
The rest of the day passes in what feels like a warm, luxurious, passionate blur. You go to dinner that evening and order lobster, revel in the way it practically melts in your mouth with sips of champagne and bites of blueberry cheesecake. Joel tells you a little more about his life, tells you everything you want to know about his daughter and his ex. It's not a difficult or uncomfortable conversation like you'd been worried it might be. Instead, you feel closer learning these things about him, feel even more connected to him than you did before as he tells you about Mish and Sarah, their relationship, the arrangement.
"I think I understand it better now," you tell him thoughtfully, "Now that I've actually..." you peer at him shyly, "You know... done it."
He chuckles, "Sex is a powerful thing, it really is. And when you find someone you're compatible with it can be really easy to keep goin' back to 'em. Settle into it, you know? Even if the other parts of your relationship don't work."
"It's like...friends with benefits, right?"
"Exactly. And it really does work for some people, worked for Mish and I for a long time," he shakes his head and reaches across the table to take your hand, "But that's over now, I need you to know that. It's over. You're the only woman in my life and that's how I want it to be. You believe me right?"
His eyes are soft, warm, loving, sincerity practically glowing in his expression.
"I believe you, Joel. Of course I believe you."
You have sex again when you get back to the room, slow and intimate and tender and perfect. You claw at his back as whimpers and cries tear from your mouth, writhing in pleasure beneath him on the bed as he fills you over and over, murmurs filth in your ear and presses down on your clit with his thumb. It's like you've died and gone to heaven, this feeling of permanent bliss and satisfaction, the sensation of being so full and so connected. It's the closest you've ever felt to real inner peace; who would have thought that sitting on a cock instead of in a church pew would be the thing to bring you closer to godliness?
I pray at the church of Joel Miller, you think to yourself as you recover from your fifth orgasm of the day, laying there with fluttering lashes and heaving belly, mind foggy and eyes bleary. Joel is kissing your thighs somewhere below, whispering praises, humming against your skin as he wipes a warm cloth over your twitching pussy.
"I keep thinking about how many sins I've committed in the last twenty four hours," you mumble to him, sleep quickly making its way into your psyche, "And then I remember that I don't care."
His laugh is the last thing you hear before you drift off.
--
Sunday morning is bittersweet. You spend most of it wrapped in Joel's embrace, tracing the freckles and scars on his skin, drifting in and out of consciousness while he peppers kisses all over your face and neck. You have to leave the hotel by noon, get back on the road again and head back home, but the bed is so warm. He's so warm. Everything is warm.
"You never fucked me in the shower," you whisper to him softly, so quiet you wonder if he can even hear you, "Or on the floor."
"I still can," he murmurs, voice husky with sleep, fingers trailing delicately through your hair, "We have a little time."
You nuzzle into his warmth and close your eyes, sighing contentedly, "No," you breathe, "I just want you to hold me."
So he does.
--
The drive home is quieter, but not in a bad way. You're still tired from your escapades and find yourself dozing every so often, vaguely aware of Joel turning down the volume or switching the song to something more chill when he notices you starting to drift. His hand is ever-present on your thigh, stroking the skin over and over like it's just habit at this point. You know you should be forcing yourself to stay awake, to enjoy these last few hours before life goes back to normal, but he really did a number on you.
It's only when you stop at a gas station - the same one where you first saw the playlist you weren't sure you were meant to - that you finally start to feel more awake.
"So tell me about this Angel playlist," you say with a smirk, waving his phone at him as he gets back in the truck, "Can we listen to it?"
A look of surprise crosses his face, but he doesn't seem upset, "How did you even find out about that?"
"I'm in control of the music, remember? It's your spotify."
He groans, cheeks flushing as he pushes on the gas and pulls out of the station, avoiding eye contact. "You were not supposed to see that."
Intrigue floods your brain, fuels your grin, "So it's for me?"
He takes a moment to respond, thumb stroking the wheel as he eyes the road, lip between his teeth. You can tell he's debating whether or not he should answer you, but his silence says everything. Impatient, you practically bounce in your seat, "Can we listen to it? Pretty please?"
He laughs a little breathlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, "Who is this girl sittin' in the front seat of my truck?" He squeezes your thigh, "You're gettin' bold, darlin'. I like it."
"Enough to let me listen to the playlist?"
He sighs, but you know he's not mad, can see the smile tugging at his lips, "...Maybe. At least enough to listen to one song. Will that tide you over?"
"Yes, it most certainly will," you're already tapping Angel, eyes alight with curiosity, "Which song?"
"Northern Sky by Nick Drake, should be the first one there."
You turn to him with a raised brow, "How do you know that's the first song?"
"'Cause I made the damn playlist."
"And you listen to it a lot?"
He laughs again, eyes rolling fondly as he turns his attention back to the road and grins at your words, "You're somethin' else."
You've still got a shit eating grin on your face as the song starts, the soft strumming of guitar filling the small space. Oh, this is pretty. You playfully nod your head to the chords and he rolls his eyes again, strokes your thigh and keeps his attention focused on the road.
And then the lyrics start.
I never felt magic crazy as this
I never saw moons, knew the meaning of the sea
I never held emotion in the palm of my hand
Or felt sweet breezes in the top of a tree
But now you're here
Brighten my northern sky
Your grin fades almost immediately, realization blooming on your face as the reality of what this playlist actually is begins to dawn on you. You'd thought maybe it was songs he wanted to share with you, songs he wanted to teach you how to play. Just random tunes that he compiled together with you in mind.
No, that's not what this is at all. As the lyrics continue, the melody growing more steady, more beautiful, you realize that these are songs that remind him of you. An entire playlist dedicated to the way he feels.
You stare at the road as the song plays out, not speaking. Your eyes are stinging with tears but you can't bring yourself to say anything, to even look at him. You feel him squeeze your thigh again, a comforting and reassuring little gesture. As if to say, l know, I'm here. As the final chords fade out you frantically reach for his phone and press pause, out of respect for his privacy but also because you're completely unprepared to hear another song like that. You catch him peering at you in your periphery, and you will yourself to look at him with watery eyes.
"Satisfied?" he asks softly, giving you that gorgeous crooked smile.
All you can choke out is a "Yeah."
--
Arriving back at the parking garage hurts. Joel pulls his truck in beside your car, still in the same spot you'd left it, and takes the key out of the ignition with a long sigh. You look over at him, emotion burning in your throat.
"I don't wanna go home," you whisper.
"Oh, babygirl," he murmurs, brow furrowing, "C'mere." He holds his arms open and you clamor over the center console to settle into his lap, burying your face in his neck. He holds you tight and rubs your back, hushes you softly when you start to cry. How is this weekend already over? How are things just supposed to go back to normal now?
"I don't want you to go back there either," he breathes, "If I had it my way you'd be comin' home with me." You feel him press a kiss to the spot just beneath your ear, "But you're strong. You're stronger than you think you are and I know you can get through this. Whatever they have to say, whatever they do, you'll get through it. We'll get through it together."
You don't say anything else, just melt into the warmth of his body and let him hold you, comfort you, until your cries and hiccups fade into even breaths. You pull back slowly and peer at his beautiful face, long to say the words you've been holding back all weekend - but you know there's a reason you've been holding back, know this isn't the right time, not yet.
Instead, you kiss him. It's soft and sweet, a tender goodbye. Temporary, fleeting. You know it's not forever, know you'll probably sneak over tomorrow night to see him again under cover of darkness, find yourself in his bed, get wrapped up in him. But it's a goodbye nonetheless. A goodbye to this - the simplicity, the sense of normalcy and lack of time constraints, the domestic bliss and the thrill of the escape. A goodbye to the bliss.
Driving away from him a few minutes later, watching his truck fade into the distance in your rearview mirror - you think it might be one of the hardest things you've ever had to do.
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nasty (j.m)
pairing: joel miller x fem!reader
summary: On a hot summer morning, you wake up with Joel’s mouth between your thighs.
genre: smut with a bit of fluff. kinda pure filth… sorry (18+ mdni)
word count: 4,2k
tags/warnings: established relationship, age gap (reader is in her late 20’s, joel is in his early 50’s although it isn’t really mentioned), soft!joel, soft!dom joel, sub!reader, dom/sub dynamic, somnophilia (consented, but it isn’t mentioned), lots of pet names, reader is described as shorter than joel, unprotected sex, piv sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), joel has high key an oral fixation, pleasure!dom joel, doggy, hairpulling, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, size kink, daddy kink, praise kink, creampie, heavy on the breeding kink, joel has a big dick.
a/n: the title is inspired by ariana grande’s song nasty. also in my brain this is in the same universe as “forever in your eyes”. this is truly… a huge fantasy of mine so, this is another super self indulgent piece. I hope you enjoy! <3
pls joel miller… one chance 🥺 [begs]
ao3
The sun is bright and warm on a summer morning, light slipping through the partially open blinds, warming up the bedroom. Your body slowly wakes up from its slumber, a moan falling from your lips as you register the feel of a wet tongue lapping at your slit.
Your cheeks heat up as you realise the position you’re in. You’re on your tummy, your hips are slightly tilted upwards as Joel’s tongue licks your pussy from behind like a man starved. You whimper loudly as your pussy clenches around nothing as you feel him circle the tip of his tongue around your tight wet hole. You still feel a bit sore from last night’s activities. As Joel was making you cum on his tongue for hours before he even made love to you.
“Ah, Joel!” You mewl pathetically.
“Good morning baby girl.” He groans against your heat.
You grip the bed sheets between your fingers as you slowly rut your hips against his mouth. Your core is beyond soaked, dripping underneath you onto his mouth and sheets. You were truly desperate and full of want, you needed some more relief.
“You’re dripping for me kitten,” Joel grunts as he slowly moves his fingers to your wetness, tracing your slit slowly with admiration as you try to buck your hips against his face and fingers, begging for more. “So needy for me.”
Your eyes slide shut and you whine, as he leans down to wrap his lips around your button at the same time he pushes two of his thick fingers inside your pussy.
A broken moan spills from your lips as he moves his fingers and tongue simultaneously.
This is heaven. You could literally die happily right now.
His tongue, moving slowly against your clit, as his fingers continue to fuck inside you. The wet squelching sounds makes Joel moan into your clit, causing vibrations that make your body tremble and shake. He curls his fingers against your most sensitive spot inside you, making you grind your hips against him once again.
Your walls hug every surface and ridge of his thick fingers, the sensation making your toes curl. Joel’s mouth lavishes your pussy with his tongue while he moans every now and then against you. Your hips continue to move against his face, picking up your pace gradually. Your head reels with pleasure once his tongue presses down on your needy aching clit.
“F-fuck, J-Joel, I’m so so so close. Pleeeaaaase.” You whimper begging for more.
Joel sucks at your clit while he curls his fingers into you. He eventually sucks harder on your clit, still occasionally swirling his tongue around your little button while moving his fingers inside you faster.
You’re a mess of his name, you chant Joel’s name over and over again. Eyes are squeezing shut to the point of tears, overwhelmed as he continues to pleasure you in one of the best ways he can.
You let out a moan more akin to a scream as he scissors his fingers inside your pussy at the same time he sucks your clit into his mouth. With the second hard suck on your throbbing clit, you cum with a loud moan. You feel your vision turning white as your whole body writhes beneath him.
He laps at your release happily, licking your pussy lips slowly until you’re whining from the overstimulation.
“I’ll never get tired of how sweet you taste baby,” he groans against you. “I could eat this little pussy for days.” You feel him press soft kisses to your trembling thighs, his beard tickling your skin.
“Please Joel… I need you.” You whine desperately.
“What do you need sweetheart?” He says as he presses another kiss to your skin.
“Fuck me, please. I need you to fuck me.” You wiggle your hips impatiently.
“Anythin’ for you princess.” He chuckles as he grips your hips to flip you over but you quickly swat his hands away with a whine. “Sweetheart?”
“I wanna try something else this morning…”
Every damn day, you’ve been begging for him to fuck you from behind. And every time he would find excuses not to do so. He keeps telling you that he doesn’t want to hurt you. You know how big his cock is, you’re more than aware of that. But you simply don’t care, you want him to fuck you in the most filthy way possible. To stretch your tiny hole, filling you up so deliciously. You’ve been dreaming of him fucking you from behind for so long, you need it so much.
“Baby, we talked about this. You need to be patient.” Joel whispers as he caresses your hips in a soothing manner.
“Joel… I’ve been patient.”
“Sweetheart—”
“I need you. Just, pleaseeee. Please, I need it so bad. I need to be filled with your thick cock. Need you to fuck me from behind so bad. I just crave it so much. I want you to breed this little hole you love so much… Please your kitten needs it so ba—” your begging gets cut off by a high pitched whimper leaving your lips as Joel’s mouth dives back between your thighs.
Licking a long stripe along your slit, coaxing a loud, broken moan out of you. Joel’s hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as he laps at you furiously. You writhe against his lips, whining and pleading for more.
He encircles your clit and sucks, pulling whimpering pleas from your mouth. It’s heavenly addicting, the way Joel’s tongue slips between your folds and dips into you, working you closer and closer to your release within each passing second.
His hands move to your ass, kneading the two cheeks as he lets you grind your hips back against his face. Sweet little noises of ecstasy leave your lips as he continues to lick and suck at your pussy.
You shudder as his lips wrap around your throbbing clit again, sucking lightly. You cry out as you feel yourself get closer to your second high of the morning. You squeeze your eyes shut as you pick up your pace, unable to handle the unbearable pleasure you’re experiencing as the coil in your stomach is about to snap.
You mewl loudly as Joel plunges his tongue inside your pussy. Massaging your inner walls, driving you insane. He sucks and licks with fervour.
“Joel, please, I’m close, fuck fuck fuck,” You stutter out a loud cry.
He increases his pace, tongue thrusting inside your pulsing hole rapidly. Your body’s temperature is rising as you move your hips, fucking his tongue.
“P-please.” You moan, your voice sounding so broken.
“Come for me kitten.” He groans against your pussy before plunging back his tongue inside you, bringing his thumb to your clit applying pressure. You come with a loud whine, your vision turning white and your ears ringing as your whole body racks with such intense pleasure, you almost thought it might make you pass out.
Gasping out his name, you grasp the sheets in your hands at the intense pleasure. Your pussy keeps clenching around his tongue as he continues to pleasure you. Your hips are stuttering until the final waves of aftershock have passed. Gently, he laps at your release until the overstimulation is getting too much.
His hands caress your ass fondly as he pulls his mouth away from your throbbing heat.
“You did so well angel, you’re always so good to me. Such a good girl. I can never get enough of how good you taste.” He murmurs.
You whimper at both the oversensitivity and his words. As you’re trembling and coming down from your high he moves to press wet kisses all the way up towards your neck. Your whimpers, whines and moans don’t stop as he spoils your body with his touch and his affection.
“I love you so much sweet girl.” Joel whispers as he nuzzles his head between your neck and your shoulder.
You feel yourself melting underneath him at his words, touch and kisses, “I love you too.” Joel presses open mouthed kisses against your neck, shoulders and jaw. Leaving you a whimpering mess. You’re wiggling your hips against him, situating his hard length between your ass cheeks. Joel’s hands come to grab your hips with a loud groan.
As you continue to squirm under him, his cock slides against your pussy. The action makes both of you moan and your body trembles with anticipation, hoping he would finally enter you from behind. You feel your inner walls clenching around nothing as you move your hips against his, grinding your wetness against his massive cock, the tip nudging your clit or entrance every now and then.
It turns slick as you keep grinding yourself against him, and he has no trouble gliding his hips against you and rutting his cock against your entrance. He groans as he moves his body against yours, leaving you breathless. You feel your pussy pulse and continue to squeeze around nothing, practically begging for his cock.
His body is covering your whole body with his own. Joel nuzzles your neck as he continues to litter your skin with his kisses. You writhe against him, wishing he was just pushing his cock in you already and filling you up in the best way.
Joel reaches down and grasps himself to line up between your lips and slide. He is rubbing the tip firmly over your swollen clit and your mind is all over the place.
“F-fuck, Joel please. I can’t do this anymore, I just need you so bad. My pussy needs you. It needs to be filled with your cock and cum. Please d-daddy. Fill this little hole up, breed this pussy. Daddy please—”
At your words Joel growls, grasps your hips and tilts them more and pushes your legs further apart. He moves to circle his tip around your entrance, pulling more desperate whines from your lips. You’re squirming, wiggling your hips, trying to push back against him but he has such a strong hold on you, making it hard for you to move too much.
“Be a good girl and be patient.” He groans against your ear.
“P-please Daddy—”
A broken gasp leaves your lips as he finally slides the tip inside you. You feel his body moving behind you, sitting up against you, and you know his eyes are on your pussy. He’s watching as your walls spread to begin to wrap around him. You whimper at the new angle as you try to accommodate his girth. He can barely get more of it in your tight walls at first, eventually using more force to open you up for him. It feels like you are being torn open, split in half.
“D-d-daddy…” you stutter and mewl.
“I know baby girl, I know.” Joel moans as he gradually slides more of his thickness inside you and you tremble more underneath him. Your pulsing walls are wrapped tightly around his cock, as your pussy pulls him in more. The pressure of his massive dick deep within your walls overwhelms you while you clutch the sheets below you in tight fists.
“Ah, daddy… you’re so big.” You whimper.
“You take me so well kitten. Doing so good for daddy.” He moans as he leans down to press a soft kiss against your cheek, as he keeps pushing more of his girth in you slowly. You feel so full already and you know he’s barely halfway in.
“So full…”
“I know my sweet girl, I know. You’re doing so well, soon you’ll be filled with all of daddy’s cock.”
The whines and whimpers and moans keep spilling from your lips as Joel continues to push deeper and deeper. Your hands continue to grip the sheets between your fingers as he penetrates your tight walls.
“Please daddy… more. I can take it.” You whine as you squirm underneath him.
He groans at your desperate whines, losing his composure momentarily as he thrusts the rest of his length all the way inside your heat. The head of his cock touching your cervix once he bottoms out. A scream leaves your mouth as you’re trembling underneath him, you try to adjust to his size while your pussy keeps clenching around his cock. You push your head into the pillows as pathetic whimpers keep falling from your lips.
“Fuck, so fuckin’ tight.” Joel hisses.
You moan and squeeze around his cock at his words, leaving him panting above you. Both of his hands move to grab at your ass cheeks, kneading them slowly and gently.
“Please d-daddy. I need more.”
“Fuck, baby girl, you look so beautiful like this, taking me all the way… like the good girl you are.” He can’t control the words that leave his lips as his hips move, quickly pulling himself almost all the way out of your pussy, making you whine at the empty feeling. “Such a needy pussy.” Joel groans before he thrusts himself all the way inside your cunt again.
“Ah ah fuck, daddy… oh my god—” you hiccup as he moves his hips slowly but hard against you. You cry out as he thrusts so deep inside you that it has your body slumping against the bed. Your pussy continues to pulse and squeeze around his thick cock, as it tries to adjust to its girth still.
You moan loudly, arching your back and pressing your ass up against him, and he grabs your asscheeks, keeping the angle perfect as he starts rolling his hips deeply into you. You feel his cock throbbing inside you as you tighten around him. He’s so deep, hitting your cervix repeatedly making your eyes roll back in your head.
“F-fuck baby, you’re so hot like this.” Joel slowly picks up his pace at the sight of you throwing your head back. “You’re all mine, isn’t that right baby girl?”
“Ah, y-yes yes yes, I’m all yours. P-Pleeaaase f-fuuuck, I need m-mo—” you’re begging and you’re unable to finish your sentence as he gives you a particular hard thrust.
You almost feel your arms giving out on you because of the force of his thrusts. Joel’s hands are clawing at the sides of your hips, guiding you with him, and he leans down again to place kisses on your upper back, his kisses travel down your spine, until he leans back up and just looks at you from behind.
Your mind goes blank as all you can do is focus on the feel of him stretching you, filling you up, so overwhelmed with bliss already. He thrusts deeper inside you, earning whines and moans as you continue to cry out his name. You try to tell him, breathlessly, about how good he is making you feel.
The sound of your pleasure fuels his desire to fuck you better, urging him to do more.
Joel picks up his pace, thrusting into you quicker, harder, hitting the spot that has your body going numb.
You claw at the sheets, burying your face into the pillow to muffle your screams. The air is all stuffy around you as his hips move faster, moaning you try to push back your hips against his to take more of his big cock. Your tiny pussy is so full of him, still trying to accommodate his thickness as it pulses and tightens around him. Joel moans at the sight, kneading your ass as he tries to bury himself more inside you, his tip hitting your cervix instantly. Your eyes roll back inside your head once again as you dig your fingers more into the bed, you mewl against the sheets at the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you.
Hair is sticking at the nape of your neck and back, and Joel leans closer to brush it away but instead he grabs and tugs slightly on it, at the same time he thrusts harder and faster. You whine loudly as the angle makes him hit your sensitive spot inside you. You’re literally going insane, it feels so overwhelming and good.
Your noises become louder and higher pitched as he continues his assault on your pussy, indicating that you’re getting closer as well as the sounds of your pussy that keep meeting his cock over and over again. The sounds mix along with your desperate cries. “Your pussy is so tight and wet around me, begging me to fill you up in other ways… begging for my cum.” He groans as he thrusts harder.
“God, daddy-daddy please. Fuck I—”
You whine as your eyes roll back inside your head.
“What do you want, kitten?” He groans while one of his hands reach around you to slip against your clit making you writhe against him as he applies pressure. The pleasure has the tension tightening in the pit of your stomach, dying for your release.
“Oh, m-my goood… please J-j-d-daddy, h-harder, faster p-p-pleaaseee.” You squeak out in between moans. The wet noises of him easing into you over and over has your cheeks burning, realising just how wet and needy you are for him.
Joel buries his face in the crook of your neck, picking up his pace again, fucking you so fast and hard that you swore you never moaned so loud in your life. Suddenly, everything was becoming too much: the pressure against your clit, his grunts, the sticky, sweaty feeling, his scent, his warmth, the drilling of his cock inside you. Just everything. You try to catch your breath but from how Joel is thrusting inside you and the rubbing against your clit it feels almost impossible to do so.
“I-it feels s-soo— F-fuck, I-I, daddyyyy—”
“Does that feel good, sweet girl?” He asks as he leans down his body closer to yours making him hit your cervix repeatedly. You whimper and tremble underneath him as you nod, he moans against your ear as he whispers close to you. “Does it feel good? That I’m fucking you like this? Just the way you wanted it.”
“Yes! I-it feels sooooo gooood, Joeeel—” you whine as he continues to hit your sensitive spots inside you. Joel’s fingers continue to press down on your little nub making you squirm. The tension continues to build up as the pleasure is becoming too overwhelming.
Joel snaps his hips into you again and again, thrusting deep, causing you to see stars from knowing just how to pleasure you. Feeling like your head is swimming once again, you whine. “I’m sooo so close, p-please…” you beg desperately. You only need one more little push, a little bit more attention to reach your peak.
You are crying out for him, your moans almost sounding like his name, and he moves his head down again and presses kisses down your neck.
“Come for me kitten…” he whispers against your ear.
“Ah—”
His hips never slow down as he massages your clit. And then the coil in your lower tummy snaps, your eyes rolling back into your head while you arch your back as your world dissolves into pure ecstasy. You can’t stop yourself from shaking as you come against him. You almost black out because of the intensity of your orgasm, trembling like crazy. You whimper as the overstimulation is getting to you.
“Daddy wants to fill you up, baby girl.” He groans as his pace is becoming erratic, with less finesse as he charges towards his own finish line. “Going to fuck a my cum into you, kitten. Get you nice and full…”
Your walls pulse and become tighter around him as he continues to hit your cervix. He groans as his movements become more sloppy. Loud mewls leave your lips as he finally spills his seed inside you, coating each inch of you with a warmth that pools deep inside you.
“Ah...” you whimper underneath him as your body continues to shake.
Joel exhales deeply as he feels himself come down from his high. He gently pulls out of your tiny spent hole, making you whimper at the loss and you feel his eyes on you, knowing that he’s watching his seed drool out of you. Your pussy continues to clench repeatedly around nothing and he feels himself harden again at the sight.
You’re still trying to catch your breath as you whine every now and then. He moves off the bed, making his way to the bathroom to get a warm, wet cloth and returns to your legs to clean you carefully. Once he’s done he comes back into bed, wrapping his arms around you instantly.
You feel his face nuzzling in the crook of your neck. You tighten the hold you have around him, holding him close, pressing a soft kiss on the top of his head.
“That was truly amazing Joel… thank you.” You whisper against his hair before you hear him chuckle, his body shaking as he laughs softly.
“Any time baby. You know I’d do anythin’ for ya.” He says before bringing his head towards yours, leaning down once again to capture your lips in a soft kiss.
“I love you.” You whisper as you pull away to look at him tenderly while your fingers trace his face, his beard fondly.
“I love you too, sweetheart. So much.” He whispers back as he leans down to kiss your lips. The kiss is like velvet against yours, and there’s no hurry when he tilts his head a millimetre to fit against you better. His lips are so soft, swollen from all the kisses you’ve shared. His mouth moves, delicate and slow. He kisses you like he has all the time in the world.
His mouth moves slowly from your lips to the rest of your face, littering your skin full with them. “You did so well for me, such a good girl for me,” he whispers as he places soft kisses against your temples. Your cheeks burn at his sweet words. He leans down to capture your lips in another kiss. Kissing each other languidly for a while before you feel him trace your thighs with his fingers. You pull away and you raise your eyebrows at him.
“What?” He chuckles, playing coy and tries not to laugh as you shake your head with mock annoyance.
“I know what you are thinking.” You squint your eyes at him suspiciously.
“And what am I thinking?” He asks playfully, staring you down as he tries to stifle a grin.
“Well, I don’t even have to say what you’re thinking, I already feel you getting hard again mister.” You say with a playful smile as you poke his chest. He quickly grabs your hand, bringing it up to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. Butterflies erupt in your stomach at the action.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He whispers against your hand, his eyes glinting with mischief.
“Right… of course you don’t.” You roll your eyes at him playfully.
You yelp as you feel him pinch your ass. “Don’t be a brat.” He grabs your ass in his hands, bringing you closer against him as you whimper, making him chuckle at your reaction. “You know that I’ll always want you.”
Heat rises to your cheeks at his words. “Me too.” You whisper as you bite your lips with a smile.
His eyes twinkle deviously as he squeezes your cheeks in his hands. “I could wear you out even more than I did last night.” Joel says cheekily, winking as a smirk plays on his lips.
“Joel!” You give him a playful push as your cheeks heat up at his words. Joel laughs before wrapping his arms around you, puckering his lips while making kissy noises and littering your face with kisses which makes you giggle and squirm against him. Joel’s grip tightens around you as he continues to kiss you all over your face playfully.
“I know you love it baby girl, don’t try to deny it.” He whispers before leaning his head down to kiss your neck, you squeak and continue to squirm against him.
“What if I say I don’t?” You taunt teasingly, cocking your head to the side.
“Then you’re a terrible liar.” He says looking all smug before his lips nip at your jawline.
Your giggles turn to breathy whimpers the more he kisses and licks your neck. You feel yourself lose easily in his kisses and touches, your body turning to mush instantly.
“I’ve been very nice, very good to you… Maybe you’d love to cum around me again?” He smiles as he looks down at you deviously as you gasp, giving him a playful push again.
“Joel!!” You squeal before he holds your body close to his, swallowing your noises as he kisses you deeply. Both of your laughs turn into breathy moans as you both continue to touch each other.
The morning continues like this, your fingers wandering all over each other, giving each other kisses all over as the pleasure between you two doesn’t stop. The day is filled with love and desire for one another, you will never get tired of loving that man.
He’s your heaven.
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