Tumgik
#before it officially happens in a full length film' and i say ty for that bc see
theinfinitedivides · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
i uh. well. don't know how to explain why i'm just putting this on your dash without warning but Fighter (2024)'s trailer is out and this one's going to murder me
38 notes · View notes
mf-despair-queen · 7 years
Text
Submit To Me - Dylan O’Brien
Author: @mf-despair-queen​
Characters: Dylan O’Brien/Reader
Word Count: 15,061
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Public Teasing, Public Masturbation, Teasing in the car and in the bedroom, pleading, seduction, striping Dylan because he’s sexy as fuck, dry humping, thigh riding, hand jobs, face riding, handcuffs, blindfolds, 69 (aka oral male and female receiving), overstimulation, praising, orgasm denial, female riding male (regular and reverse cowgirl), whiny Dylan, mentions of dominant Dylan, A lot of submissive Dylan, BREATHY MOANS
Notes: I will make this short as I am writing this pool side from hell. I’m so sorry this took forever. I have no excuses. But hopefully it was worth it. I honestly don’t know if this is my best writing for what you guys wanted from this. I promise the next thing I write won’t take as long. 
Tumblr media
You sighed to yourself, your fingers lightly grazing over the countless bruises that were littering your neck, shoulder and chest. They were still tender, causing you to wince slightly when your fingers pressed a little too hard on them. The dark marks were stained on your skin, older marks just beginning to fade when the new ones appeared. With a low groan, you tugged open the bathroom drawer for your make up, pulling out everything you could.
Ok, let’s not stress you out now. You aren’t getting beat up or abused. Nothing like that, for sure. But no. You had the most hardcore boyfriend in the world. And he kind of likes to leave marks when he is kissing down your body.
You couldn’t deny that Dylan O’Brien was a sweetheart. He really was. The chocolate-haired actor was a dream come true really. He was everything you wished for in a man. Sweet, funny, caring, talented, entertaining, smart. The list could go on and on. He would do anything for anybody, even if it meant he had to sacrifice his precious sleep after a long day on the Teen Wolf set to help. He never had to try to be someone he wasn’t. He was open about who he was and what he liked. He never had to act different, ironic considering his job as an actor. This was naturally how he was. He made you the happiest person on the planet.
You had been together now for two years, having known the whiskey-eyed man for four. You met him through friends when you were dragged to the Teen Wolf set. The cast was deep in the middle of season three at the time. You wandered onto the set, the badge that read “Guest” hanging around your neck, a coffee in your hand. You were nervous about meeting these people you looked up to, having been a fan of the show since the beginning. But you never needed to be.
They all welcomed you with open arms. Tyler had engulfed you in the largest hug, saying how he had heard all these great things from his girlfriend, Lau, who also happened to be the one to drag you onto set that first day. He then proceeded to drag you everywhere, Lau laughing from his black actor chair. Tyler introduced you to everyone and everything.
Literally, he introduced you to cameras and his bed and the jeep named Roscoe.
The last person you happened to meet was Dylan, you mouth instantly dry when you saw him walking across the set. He had been clad in some loose flannel shirt and jeans, Nike shoes adorning his feet. His hair was perfectly Stiles, spiked up in a amazing quiff. Tyler called him over, and the second your eyes met, you felt the connection. When he reached out to shake your hand, introducing himself, you felt the spark, knowing he did too. Tyler excused himself while you were both dazed, but you didn’t care.
You ended up spending the day talking to Dylan when he wasn’t filming. You instantly hit it off of course. Before you left that night, he had already added you on his Twitter and hidden Facebook, your number forever embedded in the memory of his phone. You had taken countless selfies already. It was like you had known him your entire life. That night, you didn’t even sleep, Dylan calling you the moment he got home and spending hours on the phone talking to you.
Two years after meeting him, he finally found the courage to ask you out. You had dabbled with bits of intimacy, Dylan having taken you out on a couple dates, maybe a few kisses here and there. Every second you spent together, you fell for the man harder. So, when he finally asked to make it official, your instant answer was yes.
Best decision ever, really.
You moved in together a year later, finding a small apartment together in the middle of LA, only moving into something bigger recently. It wasn’t the easiest relationship you learned. He traveled a lot because of work, but you always found ways to make it work. Time together became sweeter, especially the deeper in the relationship you got. You didn’t regret any minute of it. You loved him with all your heart. He treated you right and made you feel special. He made you feel good.
Now, I know what you are thinking. How does that explain the marks on your body? Let’s just say… Dylan isn’t the gentlest person in bed.
When you finally got to spend time together, intimate time together, it was almost like he was a different man. He was very… possessive one could say. He liked to be in control, showing you a good time. His favorite thing in the world seemed to be hearing you scream his name all night long. You never really complained. Sure, you found it hard to walk most of the time afterwards, and you would have to wear more clothes than normal because he loved sucking at your bare skin, but you loved sex with him. He knew every spot to hit. He made you feel amazing, sending you to the moon and back just from his touch. You loved becoming one with him.
It just sucked today of all days.
You get why he was the way he was. He had been away because of filming the Death Cure again, leaving you to stress because the last time he was on that set, he came home after having his face reconstructed because of an accident and spent six long months not leaving the house. But you were glad he was recovering, finding the courage to get back out there and finishing what he started. Your heart hurt, fearing the worst, especially when he sent you pictures from the set. But he came back happier than ever, lifting your spirits.
He had been home for a couple weeks now, and he seemed needier than normal. You found yourself being pushed onto the bed every other night, Dylan restlessly kissing you and pleasing you, being that dominating man you loved so much. But today was not the best day to wake up with hickeys on every visible orifice on your body.
You sighed deeply, checking yourself in the mirror. Your make up did a decent job covering the marks, though some of the darker ones still could be seen under the right light. You huffed, tying your hair up in a cute but elegant bun before fixing the towel you wore and heading back into the bedroom.
Dylan was sat on the bed, already dressed in a white button up shirt that was tucked tightly into his black slacks. His knee was pressed against his chest, tying his freshly cleaned dress shoes. He glanced your way when he heard the bathroom door open, a smile on his face.
“Hey, princess,” he said, standing from the bed and hustling over to you. His arms wound around your waist, placing a light kiss to you lips. “You were taking forever in the bathroom. I thought you might have fallen or something.”
“No, nothing bad like that. I was just doing my makeup. I had to work a little harder on it than normal,” you sneered slightly, Dylan chuckling.
“Sorry, sorry. But if it means anything, last night was amazing,” he whispered, sending you a wink before backing away and heading for the door. “Your dress is in the closet. I know you hate being rushed but we need to hurry and leave. We might get stuck in traffic if we aren’t careful. And we don’t want to be late.”
“Trust me, Dyl. I know. Lau will have my head if we are late. Just,” you sighed, plucking the dress from the closet’s rod, “give me like…fifteen minutes. I just need to put the dress on and find my heels.” You glanced around at the messy room, dirty clothes strewn about. “That might be harder than I think. We really need to clean.”
“We will clean tomorrow. And your heels are on the dresser. I tripped over them when while I was changing,” he chuckled, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. “I will go warm up the car, alright? I love you.”
“Love you too, baby,” you hollered, watched his perfectly round ass leave the room. “Damn, he looks good in slacks,” you mumbled.
“I know!”
“Ass,” you laughed. You carefully slid the tight red dress on your body, the skirt draping around you and landing just above your knees. The bodice hugged tightly to your skin, the cut between your breasts showing the perfect amount of cleavage. The crisscrossing straps in the back didn’t tangle like you feared they would, making your life easier. You glanced at the full-length mirror in the corner, smoothing the fabric out carefully. “Alright. Dress, complete. And without ruining the makeup and hair. Accomplishment.”
You grabbed your heels, tugging the straps around your ankles quickly, trying not to fall over in your attempts to put them on. You grabbed a clutch from the closet, tossing in your id, phone and spare make up, rushing out the door quickly.
Dylan was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, bobbing his head to some All Time Low song when you got in the car, his hand instantly linking with yours. He smiled over at you, the back backing from the parking spot, Dylan driving down the road quickly. Your fingers played with his, trying to relax.
“You alright?” He asked quietly.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired and maybe a little nervous.”
“We won’t be late,” he said, knowing you were worried about that. “And I’m sorry for keeping you up all night. And leaving all those marks on you. I will make it up to you, I promise.”
“I know you will, Dyl,” you smiled slightly at him. You looked out the window, thinking to yourself, wondering what the night ahead was going to be like. You didn’t even register when he squeezed your hand tightly, trying to reassure you that he was truly sorry.
It didn’t seem long before you were pulling into the parking lot of the restaurant. Dylan killed the engine of the car, turning to look at you completely. “Baby. Relax, alright? Everything will be just fine.”
“I know,” you hummed at him, leaning over to place a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. He smiled into the kiss, pushing himself closer. His hand held your cheek, gently caressing your skin with his thumb. You pulled away too quick for his liking, hearing his nearly inaudible groan when your backed away from him. He tried to lean in to capture your lips again, a pout forming on his luscious lips when you backed away further. You licked at your lips, your tongue slightly brushing his own succulent lips.
“You’re cruel,” he whined, opening his car door and standing up. You caught him adjusting himself in his pressed slacks, a small grin forming on your lips. It wasn’t often that you could make him flustered, and after how he had been lately, you liked this side of him. Your stomach churned slightly, wanting to see him like this some more.
He rushed around after slamming his door shut, tugging open the passenger side door and holding out a hand for you. Giving him a sweet smile, your smaller hand fitting into his large, veiny one perfectly as he helped you from the car. He pecked your lips, his arm wrapping securely around your waist to lead you inside.
Once inside, your eyes adjusted to the dimmed lighting, glancing around the crowd for your friend. There were a lot of people about, chatting with each other quietly. Dylan rubbed your back carefully, his hand resting on the small of your back as your glanced around. “Do you see them?” You asked.
Dylan glanced around, standing on his toes to get a better look. “Oh, they’re over near the bar. Come on,” he said calmly, pushing you in front of him and leading you through the crowd. Your shimmied passed various people, muttering low apologies when you bumped into them on accident. The air was hot in the sea of bodies and you felt slightly lightheaded. You were glad you escaped before you passed out in your love’s arms, emerging from the crowd at the restaurant’s bar.
“Posey!” Dylan hollered at his friend, the Mexican man’s head turning to your boyfriend. A toothy smile appeared on his face, pushing off the bar to approach him.
“Dyl! I’m so glad you guys were able to make it!” He replied, giving Dylan a bro hug. You smiled as they jumped right into conversation, laughing loudly as they leaned on the bar. You turned to find Lau seated on a barstool, a beautiful grin on her features.
“Hello, my beautiful,” you greeted her, taking a seat next to her and leaning over to give her a hug. You glanced down at her, taking in her appearance. She was adorning a dark green spaghetti strap dress that hugged tight around her waist, the skirt rippling out like waves around her legs. The dress was only complimented by her bright red hair, curled to perfect and cascading over her shoulders. Her makeup was on point, like always, matching her dress in brilliant elegance. “You look amazing, like always.”
“Oh, stop it,” she laughed, taking a sip of her drink.
“Just stating the truth, Lau,” you told her. “And, congratulations. It’s about time you and Ty got engaged. You’ve been dating for years.”
She laughed, nodding. “Yeah. I mean, we’ve pretty much been engaged for years since I got impatient one night and asked him. But he said it was time to actually act on my proposal. Took me out to dinner, did the whole “get down on one knee” shindig before dessert. And here we are.”
“Well, I’m happy for you guys,” you said, glancing down at your hands in your lap.
“Why am I sensing some discomfort? What did Dyl do this time?”
You shook your head, glancing back at the boys. “What makes you think he did something?”
“You’re quieter than normal. And the marks on your neck,” she said, poking at your skin. You let out a small groan, digging into you clutch for your make up mirror. “Wild night?”
You sighed, tucking the mirror away after a second. “You’re telling me. Don’t get me wrong. Sex with Dylan is better than any other guy I’ve done it with. But he’s just so…”
“Overbearing?”
“Dominant,” you stated firmly. “He likes to be in control. I love it, really I do. So, I don’t know why I’m bothered today.”
“Do you ever get to be dominant?” Lau asked. She watched you shake your head. “That’s probably why. On top of him doing this,” she gestured to your body, referring to the marks, “you never get to return it. Give him a good time. Trust me on this. Tyler is like that. He likes to be on top, but he knows when to change it up and let me hold the reins.”
“Alright, but how do you even do something like that? You know how Dylan is, Lau. I’ve told him that we need to mix it up, be we never do. I know I can turn him on, but when it gets time to be in bed, he doesn’t relent. His grip on those reins is too tight and I don’t get a chance to do anything.”
“Then take it, babe,” she retorted, a hard look on her face. “Show him you mean business. Show him a good time.” You gave her a blank look. “Tease him a little. Tempt him a little. You’re hot. Use it. Turn him on and then use it against him to get your way.”
“Isn’t that mean though?” You asked.
“All’s fair in love and war. When us girls want something, we need to take it. Especially with our man. Just one night to have him wrapped around your finger.” She smiled, sliding off the chair. She pat your cheek a couple times, grinning. “I know you can do it. Just get him wanting it.”
“But what if I turn him on and he decides he still wants to be in charge? He could easily overpower me. Have you seen his muscles after American Assassin?”
Lau rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “Don’t let him. I know you’ll figure it out.” She winked, heading over to Tyler, his arm swinging around her.
Get him wanting it without letting him have control? You thought to yourself, sipping the drink you ordered from the bartender when you sat down. How do I do exactly?
You glanced over at Dylan, meeting his whiskey orbs. He gave you a small smile, looking away quickly. With that look, it all seemed to click in your mind. You knew he loved you, so he would be willing to do anything for you, right? You just had to play things right and he would surely agree to you being in charge.
Operation Make Dylan Submit To You was officially a go. Before the end of the night, you would have him so tight around your finger, you would have gotten him so riled up, he would have no choice but to agree to being subordinate for a day. He would want you on top of him, pleasing him. Just this once.
You slid from your chair, leaving the drink forgotten on the bar, waltz over to him. Dylan glanced your way, hearing the click of your heels. You saw his eyes visibly widen, watching your hips swaying as you made your way to him, slightly choking on the bottle of beer in his hand. You smiled to yourself, wrapping your arms around him tightly. You saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, looking down at you.
“We should find our seats, Dyl,” you told him, gesturing to the crowd beginning to dissipate into the other room for the engagement party’s dinner. Your hands ran along his back, landing on his round ass and squeezing it through his slacks. “We don’t want your fine little ass to miss Tyler’s awesome engagement speech and whatever else they have planned.”
“Right, right,” he replied, his voice deep and low. He led you into other room, you both heading for your chairs to the left of the stage Tyler and Lau were at. You were glad you had a little table to yourselves and that there was a large, white tablecloth covering the table. You were sure it would cover your laps when you sat down and that it would make your plan a bit easier.
Dylan, being a gentleman of course, pulled the chair out for you and letting you sit before taking his seat to your left. Your hand slid over, resting on his thigh, tracing small circles with your fingers. You heard him swallow loudly, inhaling deeply. “Babe,” he mumbled, looking over at you. He leaned closer, lips pressing to the shell of your ear. “What are you doing? Why are you acting kind of… seductive?”
“Just making up for being cruel earlier,” you replied lowly, making sure no one could hear you. “Just relax and let me take care of you, alright?” Dylan gave you a confused look, but chose not to question you. For now, at least.
Your dinner was served shortly after you sat down, but you never removed your hand from your boyfriend’s leg. He seemed to have trouble concentrating on the plate of food, his fork stabbing at his meat harder than he meant to every time he would delve in for another bite. You hear him mildly choke a couple times when you gave his knee a quick squeeze or your fingers would “accidently” brush the bulge that grew steadily over time. His leg bounced quickly under the table and you could feel his anxiety leaking from every pore.
He placed the silverware down with a sickeningly loud clang, his body hunching forward abruptly. His face buried deep into his hands, his groan muffled behind his fingers. “What are you doing to me, Y/N?” he asked, though you almost missed it from his quiet voice. “You’re killing me.”
“I’m not doing anything, Dylan,” you tried to reassure, though you felt bad for lying to him. Everything you were doing was one hundred percent intentional, of course. But were you going to tell him that? Of course not.
“Why are you lying?” He asked, looking at you between his fingers. You pouted, leaning against his shoulder. He let out a deep sigh, leaning back in his chair. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to hurt your feelings. But you are acting so odd tonight. I’m not used to be being like this. So, I’m just thinking…” he trailed off, scratching at his scruff.
“Thinking what, Dyl?” You asked, looking up at him.
“Did I do something to upset you? Or did I do something wrong? I can’t help but feel like you are trying to get back at me for something. Or you want something but won’t tell me.” Well, he wasn’t wrong. You silently cursed him for being so smart, but cracked a small smile, kissing his cheek.
“Babe, everything is fine. I promise,” you reassured, doing your best to keep calm. One quiver of your voice would tell him he hit the nail on the head.
“Alright,” he mumbled. You smiled, leaning up to kiss his lips, pulling away the second you felt him beginning to push back against you. From the corner of your eye, you saw him bite his bottom lip, stifling the noise of displeasure you know was ready to spill out.
There was a clang from the front of the room, Tyler tapping his spoon on his champagne glass. He stood from his seat, clearing his throat. “Hey guys. I wanted to thank everyone for coming to celebrate my official public engagement to the beautiful future Mrs. Tyler Posey. My precious Lau. God, where do I even start?”
You drowned out Tyler’s words, your hand finding its way back to Dylan’s leg, inching closer to his groin with every word Tyler spoke. The actor next to you seemed to stop breathing, his eyes darting to look at you occasionally. You smiled you yourself, keeping your gaze on Tyler, letting your fingers work their magic. You could feel the intense stare of the whiskey-eyed man, his look burning holes into the side of your head. He was silently asking what you were doing once more, but you ignored it.
Your hand rested on his thick bulge, rubbing it carefully through his slacks. Your boyfriend visibly stiffened, his hips wiggling in his seat to try and find a comfortable position with a throbbing erection between his legs. His hand rubbed at his chin anxiously while he bit at the inside of his cheek to keep quiet. His breathing increased, short pants passing between his partially parted lips, his nose crinkling every time he inhaled. His brow knit together in frustration, most likely of the sexual variety considering you were kneading his cock through the fabric of his pants, feeling it hardening, pulsing, throbbing and twitching.
His head finally whipped to look at you when your fingers began to fiddle with the zipper on his slacks, pulling it down at an agonizingly slow pace. You shot him a side smile, popping the button open. “Babe,” he mumbled the second he felt his slacks loosen around his waist. “What are you doing?”
You hummed quietly, tugging his shirt up and away from his pants, moving to play with the edge of his black boxer briefs. You leaned over, your lips brushed his ear lobe as you spoke. “Well, I told you before I was making up for being cruel earlier. And you just look so good dressed up, I just can’t keep my hands off you.”
“And you can’t wait till we get home so we can have fun?” he grumbled, his voice laced with a hint of lust, his tone huskier than before. He was obviously agitated, but he wanted it all the same. You could see it in his eyes. If he had his way, you would be in the car on your way home and the second you walked in the door, you would be pressed into the mattress, his cock pistoning inside you hard and fast. But that wasn’t the goal right now.
“Well, we won’t be able to leave anytime soon. We need to be here for Tyler and Lau. But this little problem,” you told him, sliding your hand in his boxer briefs, grasping him tightly. He let out a light gasp, shifting in his seat, his hand reaching out to grab at the table cloth. “It needs to be fixed now, unless you really want people to see your dick through your tight slacks.” Your boyfriend shook his head vigorously, stumbling over the words he was trying to get out. “So, you might want to keep quiet, Dyl.”
Dylan went to protest, but his words never came out. Instead, a low, garbled moan rolled off his tongue when he felt your thumb smear the precum he was leaking around the tip and your hand pumping him carefully in his pants. His knuckle was turning white with how hard he was clenching the table cloth. His eyes screwed shut, attempting to focus on keeping his moans under control. You could tell he was fighting hard, and you had barely started.
You shifted your position so on hand was tucked in his pants, stroking his hardened length, occasionally dipping down to fondle his balls as well, while the other hand ran along his arm, drawing invisible shapes on his skin and playing with the white button up he was dressed in. Your lips traveled from his ear lobe down his neck, placing light kisses to his stubbled jaw and nipping at the juncture between his neck and shoulder. The chocolate-haired man dug his teeth into his lip, fighting the noises he wanted to make, afraid of what would happen if someone caught on to what was going on.
Your hand began to pump him faster, your grip tightening around him. The vein that ran along his length pulsed vehemently, his entire length twitching under your touch. Dylan groaned to himself, unintentionally tugging at the table cloth. His action caused his silverware to fall to the floor, clanging loudly for the room to hear. Tyler stopped his speech glancing at your table. Everyone in the room seemed to turn to you both. Your hand stilled in his slacks, moving into a more comfortable position that made you look innocent.
Dylan’s face flushed slightly, clearing his throat. “U-um, sorry about that. That was an accident. I was listening to TPose talk and didn’t notice the silverware on the edge of the table. It won’t happen again.” He carefully leaned over, your hand still tucked between his legs clutching his cock tightly, to grab the fallen utensils, placing them back on the table.
Tyler eyed Dylan once more before resuming his speech, everyone turning back to him. Dylan let out a soft sigh of relief, massaging his face. You smiled at him, leaning over to kiss his cheek, your hand beginning to pump him again. You could see his eyes widen, his pupils dilating from his heightened levels of arousal. He groaned quietly, his hips shifting and jerking slightly into your hand.
He was right where you wanted him. He was sure to crack soon.
Your strokes sped up, pushing his slacks and boxer briefs down slightly to free him and allow better access to pump his thick length. He huffed slightly, trying to get air, a thin layer of sweat forming on his brow from fighting so hard to keep under control. You could feel the muscles in his arm flexing sporadically and his leg bouncing with the light thrust of his hips. His body was becoming jittery. His cock was pulsing wildly, twitching between your fingers, nearing a peak he didn’t want to happen.
“Baby,” he said, his voice whinier than normal, surprising you slightly. He hunched forward, taking a deep breath, licking at his lips. “Please, you gotta stop this. If you don’t I might actually explode. Or worse. You might end up on this table and I will be fucking you in front of everyone.” He paused, taking a staggered breath, his knuckle curling tightly. “Just, did I do something to piss you off? Are you getting back at me for something? This is not like you. Whatever I did, I’m sorry. Please, I will do anything if you just stop this right now.”
You grinned. Bingo. You leaned up to his ear, nipping his ear lobe. “Then, let’s make a deal.” He turned to you, his orbs locking with yours. He saw the Cheshire-like grin on your cheeks, thickly swallowing in fear for what you might say. “I will stop now and we will enjoy the rest of dinner. But, when we get home, I get control.”
“Control?” He asked dumbly, biting his tongue immediately after.
“Dyl, you like to be in control when we have sex. You are the man, you are dominant. Trust me, I love it, baby. You drive me wild every time. But maybe, for once, you need to be a little more… submissive. Let me please you.” You tapped his nose, Dylan shaking his head playfully. He pouted cutely, running a hand through his spiked hair.
“That’s what this is about? You want to be on top?” You frowned, looking down slightly. “You have interesting ways to show me that.”
“Maybe this was a mistake…”
“No, no. Baby. Don’t think like that. I love it. It’s fucking,” he rubbed his chin, grunting the final word, “hot.” You chuckled at his words, Dylan narrowing his eyes at you. “Seriously. Do you know how immensely turned on I am because of your little tease-y actions? Besides the fact that you look fucking amazing in that dress. But the kiss in the car. Then you running your fingers along my leg. And now this?” His eyes dart towards his lap, taking a staggered breath when your grip around his tightened slightly, licking at his lips to keep in control. “Fuck, I’m so horny for you. You could do anything to me at this point because I’ve never seen you like this and I love it. I love this side of you. And I’m willing to let you have more when we get home.”
You smiled slightly. “Really?” He just nodded, biting at his lip.
“Babe, you’ve never teased me like this. You always just let me do what I wish. But damn, please keep doing this. Just,” he paused, glancing around the room, “not in public please. I can’t be held accountable if I do something indecent to you.”
“Sounds like a deal, Dyl,” you chuckled at him, kissing his cheek. You carefully removed your hand from around his cock, hearing the low groan the man next to you let out. You weren’t sure if it was from relief of your hand not gripping him tightly or sadness and the loss of contact of you holding him. Dylan quickly, but stealthily tucked himself back in his slacks, shifting uncomfortably the remainder of the dinner. The lack of release must be getting to him because now he was suffering with an erection that didn’t seem to want to disappear.
Dude, you weren’t even touching him and teasing him at this point. The thought alone must be that arousing for him, Dylan getting drunk off the aura you were emitting for him.
Talk about sexual tension between you both right now.
Dylan was practically at his wit’s end when then dinner concluded, people beginning to rise from their tables, making their way to gather in the main lobby area for drinks and conversation. He almost fell from his chair was he jumped up from his seat, nearly ripping the tablecloth with him. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet waiting for you to get up from your own seat. He looked almost like a little kid in a candy shop, unable to contain his excitement for what kind of treat he was going to be getting.
“Come on,” he hastily uttered, his body jittery from your slow pace. “I want to go home, baby.”
“Don’t be so impatient, Dyl,” you told him, checking yourself in the mirror you kept in your clutch. “You’ll get what’s coming to you in due time. Besides, shouldn’t we try to mingle a bit? This is your best friend’s engagement party. Doesn’t it seem rude to just run off without a word?”
Dylan groaned, leaning on the back of the chair we sat in before, scratching his scruffy chin. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
You have no idea, you chuckled to yourself.
“Just, give me like… ten minutes then. And I will get us out of here and Posey will be none the wiser to our actions. Just go to the bathroom and freshen up, alright?” He told you, pulling you up from the chair and wrapping his arms around your waist. You smiled at him, leaning up to place a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. He groaned and shuffled on his feet from your action, shaking his head. “Fuck, you suck. Stop being so fucking sexy. I just…” he stopped talking, kissing your forehead and stalking out of the room, but obviously not before adjusting himself in his pants. Again.
You grinned, watching his firm, tight ass waddling from the room. You licked at your lips, your teeth carefully tugging your bottom lip between them. Your body was warm just from the sight of him. He didn’t dress up often, but when he did, even if it was just a button up and some slacks like her was wearing today, he looked like a million bucks. Sure, he always looked good and you were content with watching him pad around your newly acquired house in just his sweatpants and mismatched socks, but you can’t argue with a man dressed for success.
You wandered off to the bathroom, taking your time to make sure you looked halfway presentable in your highly aroused state. You kept imagining what you could do to him once you got home. You hadn’t exactly thought this far ahead, having been too afraid he would reject the idea. But he seemed more than eager to relinquish control. Now, you could only imagine all the things that were going to go down tonight. A few ideas popped into your head, making you crack a smile at yourself in the mirror.
Dylan wouldn’t know what he got himself into tonight.
You left the bathroom a few minutes later, your heels clicking along the floor noisily on your way. You weaved through the crowd, trying to find any sign of your boyfriend, only picking up on his laughter from afar. He was perched at the bar with Tyler when you finally slipped through the horde of people. Both boys turned to you when they heard you approached, Dylan instantly moving to your side and wrapping his arms around you.
“Hey, princess. Are you feeling better?” He asked. Your eyebrow rose, unsure what he meant. He shot you a quick look, a glint telling you to play along. Tyler took a sip of his beer, taking a few steps closer.
“I’m sorry you aren’t feeling well, Y/N. Dyl told me that you got sick at the end of dinner. Guess your stomach didn’t agree with that chicken, eh?” He laughed. “Unless it’s something else, of course,” he implied, giving Dylan a nudge.
“I’m not pregnant, Ty,” you deadpanned.
“You never know,” he said in a sing-song voice. You punched him in the stomach lightly, Tyler laughing loudly. “Well, don’t let me hold you guys up. I’d rather you not blow chunks in public. Get her home safely, alright Dyl?”
“Of course,” he told his best friend, giving him a bro hug. “Congrats again dude. Keep me updated with the wedding details as you guys figure it out.”
“You know it. You’re my best man, after all. You’ll be the second to know. After my wife, of course,” Tyler replied. You smiled, loving the affection he gave your friend. Tyler turned to you, pulling you into a hug. “Love you, Y/N. Thanks for coming.”
“Love you too, Ty. Congrats. Give Lau my best and tell her we’re sorry for having to bail early. I’m sure she will understand,” You told him. Kissing his cheek, you backed away, taking Dylan’s hand and leading him out, seeing Tyler give you both a short wave. You caught Lau’s glance from across the room, seeing the beauty give you a thumbs-up and a wink. You shot her a smile, dragging the whiskey-eyed actor to the car. He opened the door for you, letting you get situated before shutting it and rushing to his side, barely giving himself enough time to buckle up before speeding off down the road.
The car was relatively silent, all you could hear being the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. The tension was thick, filled with the sexual desire that exuded from both your bodies. Dylan’s fingers drummed on the steering wheel, his body fidgeting uncomfortably in his seat. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, a grin inching its way to your cheeks.
You leaned over the center console to him, placing light kisses to his cheek at jaw. Dylan let out an audible groan, his grip tightening on the wheel until his knuckles were white. “Babe,” he warned, his tone deep and gruff. He was fighting back many noises obviously, and attempting to keep his body from acting involuntarily. “Don’t start.”
You just smiled, nipping at his ear. “Well, get us home faster for a reward. And try not to kill us, alright?”
“What?” He asked, glancing at you once before turning back to the road. You giggled, your hand running up and down his arm a few times before moving to his chest. Inching your way down, your fingers brushed the obvious tent that was forming in his slacks once more, taking a chance to cup him through the fabric. His breath hitched, the car swerving into the lane next to you. You heard a car blare its horn at you for the sudden jerk, Dylan struggling to adjust the car back into the properly lane. You saw the guy that honked speed by, flipping you off, causing you to laugh. “That was not funny!”
“It kind of was, Dyl,” you told him, your fingers circling his bulge, tracing the outline of his cock. You kept your eyes on his face, watching his nostrils flare as he tried to breath. His eyes stayed glued to the road, though his pupils dilated with lust and occasionally would glance down at your hand. He groaned feeling your hand caress him through his pants, the fabric getting tighter the more you played with him.
“Babe, why do you torture me so?” He asked, his words choppy. You let your fingers work their way back up his chest, playing with the buttons on his shirt. You didn’t bother giving him an answer, just proceeded to undo one button at a time, dragging kisses down his aw to his neck, nipping at his skin and sucking a dark mark that he would normally be yelled at on set for. You unbuttoned half the buttons, leaving his shirt partially opened, and letting your hand fall back into his lap. The task now was to work on his pants, which you made quick work of. The button came open, the zipper sliding down with ease. Your fingers ran along the waistband of his slacks and boxer briefs, never moving them closer to the hardened appendage hidden under the mounds of fabric.
The car came to an abrupt halt, your body backing away from his. You were home, parked in the driveway, the engine dying without a sound. Dylan kicked the door open, struggling around the car as he attempted to keep his pants up, ripping the door open and lifting you from your seat. You were thrown easily over his shoulder, Dylan using his foot to shut the door. The car beeped as it locked, your boyfriend making his way to the front door, fumbling with the keys in his hand. Surprisingly, he got it open quickly, dropping his keys in the decorative bowl on the table on the other side and locking the door behind you. He placed you on the ground, his arms locking around your waist and wasting not a single second further.
His lips were on yours in a hungry kiss, hard, fast kisses being shared between you both. He let out small moans as he kissed you, his head tilting to either side whenever he leaned in for another searing kiss. Your lips molded together perfectly. His hands cupped your cheeks, holding them still so he could kiss you with all his might. His tongue passed through your parted lips thanks to his open-mouth kisses, the wet article rubbing yours carelessly. The sound of your lips smacking against each other wish each connection seemed to echo through the dark house.
His lips overtook yours once more, letting out a quiet moan that disappeared down your throat. He was backing you into the house slowly, one step at a time. You hummed at his breathy moans, your body heating up and your core aching, fluids pooling in your panties. You broke his kiss, denying him from leaning in for another. You glanced at his face, seeing it clearly even in the darkness. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly swollen from your intense kisses by the door. The mark on his neck was dark already, and that was just the first of many to come. His brow twitched with anticipation, like he was waiting for another kiss, though he was sorely disappointed when he felt nothing.
You backed from his arms, his eyes fluttering open. You turned your back to him, casting him a wink over your shoulder. Every couple steps, you took off one heel, leaving it discarded in your wake. Your hips shimmied from side to side, Dylan’s gaze locked on your backside. Your heard him let out a deep grunt followed by the clunk of his shoes being discarded on the polished hardwood. With each step towards the room you took, your hips swayed for him. Yet he remained still by the door. You finally stopped at the door for your bedroom, your hand resting on the frame. A seductive look and a curl of the finger was all it took for him to stumble down the hall, his slacks falling to his ankles and being left in the middle of the hallway as he rushed after you.
You stood at the foot of the bed when he rounded the corner. You looked at him, smiling sweetly while you let your hair down, the locks resting on your shoulder in soft, naturals curls. “Holy shit,” he mumbled, his eyes widening when he scratched at his stubble. You grinned at him, strutting closer to him and taking his hands, backing into the room while pulling him along. His mouth was agape, unable to find more words.
You stopped at the foot of the bed, undoing the rest of the buttons and pushing the shirt off his shoulders, the clothing forgotten as it pooled on the carpet. You had to stand on your toes to lean up and brush your lips against his, softly kissing the actor. Your fingers found the bottom of his undershirt, tugging at it playfully, the tips of your fingers brushing against his toned stomach. He pulled away long enough to tug the impeding object over his head, tossing it into the laundry basket in the corner.
His arms wrapped around your waist, resting on the small of your back, the palms of your hands against his chest. His head dipped back down, taking your lips back with his. Your noisy kisses filled the room, followed by low pants. Your kisses started slow and steadily sped up. He allowed you to suck on his lip when you pulled away, though he got to return the favor by massaging the inside of your mouth with tongue. You just stood in each other’s embrace for what like an eternity kissing and feeling each other’s body, his almost bare and yours clothed.
You finally pulled from his kiss, heavy breaths befalling you both. You pushed him back onto the bed, motioning him to back up. “Get comfortable, Dyl,” you told him, turning on your heel and making your way to the closet. The rustling of the sheets was heard behind you, but you focused on undressing. The dress came off slowly, leaving you in just a soaked pair of red, lacy panties. Dylan groaned behind you and you knew it was because these were one of his favorite pairs. He had gotten them for you for Valentine’s Day and he loved to take them off your body. They hugged your ass cheeks perfectly, Dylan always saying how they made your ass look round and plump just like he always loved it.
You dug through the closet, pulling out an old shoe box. You put it on the floor near the bed, leaning over to dig through the contents. “What’s that, babe?” Your boyfriend asked, peering over the side of the bed at you. He received no answer, being pushed promptly back onto the bed.
“Nothing, handsome. Now, close your eyes. I have a surprise for you,” you whispered seductively, circling his clothed cock with one finger. He grunted, doing as you said. You grinned, leaning over him to trail kisses along his bare torso, using your hands to lift his arms above his head. When you got to his neck, he was groaning quietly, letting out a breathy moan every so often. You sucked a new mark on his collarbone in passing, Dylan letting out one loud moan as you did. His hands rested above his head, relaxing into the bed and letting you work magic to his body.
Though he was in for a surprise when he felt the metal on his wrists, the object tightening around them and clanging against the metal headboard. His eyes shot open, glancing up at the handcuffs around his wrists, unconsciously jerking at them. “Seriously, princess?”
“Sorry, handsome. I know you. You will try to take control at some point if I don’t do something,” you told him, straddling his waist. You leaned over him, noting how his eyes alternated between your face and your breasts, licking his lips. “Besides, Dyl, you can’t argue that it’s kind of sexy to be locked up. It’s sexy to see you like this.”
“Y/N,” he started, trying to form a proper sentence. “When did you become so kinky?”
“Always have been, Dylan. You just don’t let me show it. Besides,” You told him, kissing him lightly, your hips rolling against his groin, “I’m only this way with you.”
“Fuck,” he grumbled, biting at his lip. You smiled at him, backing away from him. Your hands were on his chest, your hips rocking against his slowly. The actor’s hands jerked forward, wanting to hold you while you moved, but were stopped by the metal clasped to his wrists. He groaned, resorting to just watching you rolling into him. His cock pressed against his boxer briefs, your covered pussy rubbing against the entire length that pressed against the fabric. You moaned his name softly, Dylan letting out a low groan in return. His cock twitched, desperate to escape. The tip poked prominently into the fabric, probing your wet entrance through both pairs of underwear.
You pressed harder against him, your shifting motion speeding up, rubbing against his vigorously. The fabric of your panties rubbed at your clit whenever you moved, more of your arousal leaking out at the pressure. Your nails scraped at his skin as your moved, your stomach twisting happily at his noises. His hips bucked into yours, your thrusts meeting each other in harmony even though your groins were separated from the fabric. It was like he was inside you without actually being inside you. You missed the feeling of him filling you up, but you were turned on just by rubbing against him. You felt every pulse and twitch of his cock, feeling it press into you through the black boxer briefs. And you knew he was loving the feeling. Sure, he wished to be inside you, but the way he moaned for you and moved for you, the way his cock hardened at your touch and prodded at your entrance even when it couldn’t do anything, told you he wanted you.
“Shit, princess. I need to be inside you so bad. Please, let me be inside you,” he whined lowly, slightly pleading for you to relieve him. You grinned, sliding further down his body, adjusting so your legs were on either side of his left leg. He groaned, looking down at you. “That is not me being inside you. What are you planning now?”
You hummed quietly at his answer, leaning forward to kiss down his chest. Your hips moved skillfully against his thigh, a choppy breath befalling his lip when he felt your soaked panties rubbing against him. You quietly moaned against his pecs, your tongue running along his skin till it met his nipple, tugging the pale pink bud between your lips. His noises got loud, his body squirming relentlessly. Your lower half pressed deep into his leg, shifting against his thigh in a steady rhythm, your tongue lapping at his nipple. The wet lace rubbed against your clit as your hips shifted against him slowly and carefully.
“Shit, baby,” he whimpered, his hand able to reach down and grasp at his hair, desperate to grip something between his fingers. You smiled against him, pulling away from his chest. Your hands rested on his chest instead, smiling down at him. Your hips moved harder against him, rolling your hips into his thigh the same way you had his cock. Your juices soaked into his skin as you moved, mass amounts of fluids continuing to leak out and stain the fabric and stick to his leg. Your hands tried to hold onto his chest as your moved, moaning at the heat that was building in your core from the friction.
“Dyl,” you whined at him, one hand lifting from his chest to run through your hair, your back arching against the chilled air of the room. Dylan’s eyes locked onto your chest, your breasts bouncing casually as you rode along his thigh. His fingers itched to hold them, to grasp at them. His hands tugged at the handcuffs, barely budging an inch towards you. He groaned, listening to your moans, watching your body move against his, feeling your wet, clothed pussy pressing into his skin.
“Baby, please,” he whined quietly, his eyes clenching in an attempt to control his aching cock, afraid he would blow his load in his boxer briefs any second, even If you weren’t touching it. He was beyond aroused and desperate to have some intimate contact with you. “Please, I need you.”
You hummed, your fingers tauntingly running down his body, tracing at the outline of his cock. “You want release, Dyl? Huh, handsome?”
“Shit,” he huffed, his body squirming under you, struggling to take a breath. “Yes. I need it. God, I’m about to explode if I’m not careful. God, do anything. Fuck me, blow me, jerk me off. Wrap your perfect tits around him and rub me that way. I just need to feel you holding me, making me cum. I need something. I’m dying here, princess.”
You grinned to yourself. You eyed his face, his face flushed evidently, even in the dim lighting of the bedroom. He tugged his bottom lip between his lip more than once apparently through the night, just as he sat right that instance. His lip was swollen from biting at it and from your kisses earlier. His lips were plump and delicious looking, you couldn’t deny that. His eyes clenched shut, but whenever they cracked open just the slightest, you could see the dark undertone of his orbs, the whiskey brown you were used to replaced with a dark, chocolate color. Every muscle in his body twitched and flexed without as much of a simple touch. His hair was tousled from his grip earlier, but it made him look sexier than you were used to. You just couldn’t help but admit that he looked amazing under your body, tied down and unable to do anything in return. Your stomached clenched in happiness and desire, the knot inside you twisting with pleasure.
“I think I can do that, handsome,” you replied cheekily, sliding off his leg. Your hands tugged at the band on of boxer briefs, tugging the black material down his legs. His eyes opened slowly, faintly seeing you toss the fabric over your head, not knowing where it disappeared to in the darkness. He shifted up on the bed slightly, his gaze drifting down to your hand enclosing around his cock. Your grip was firm around him, a loud moan slipping from his mouth.
“Fuck me,” he muttered, earning a smile from you.
“That’s the plan eventually,” you responded. No words came from him after that. Your hand stroked his length teasingly slow, your thumb roaming over the tip to smear the rampant amounts of precum that seeped from the slit. His noises told you he was feeling good, but his hips bucked into your fist, indicating he was wanting more. You obliged his silent request, your motions speeding up to a steady pump.
His eyes didn’t deter from your hand around him. You fisted his cock firmly and quickly. He had taught you the perfect grip he loved and how he liked his cock pumped, your hand sliding up and around the head, tugging at the skin in the most pleasurable way. His cock pulsed with enjoyment, your fingers releasing him once or twice to run along the throbbing vein on the underside of his cock. His moans got louder and it was like music to your ears.
His eyes clenched shut, his body jerking into yours. You knew he was getting closer to his release, making a split-second decision to please him further. Your free hand cupped his balls, massaging them gently in your palm, gripping them together like a firm hug. “Holy shit,” he mumbled, his back arching off the bed, his squirming increasing. You smiled, pumping him faster and harder. The combined actions on his cock and his balls was becoming too much too quickly. You could feel his leg muscles tightening, straining to egg himself to his orgasm. His breathing came out in rapid, uneven pants, a bead of sweat rolling down his brow with his focus. His was biting as his lip again, breathy moans being swallowed and kept from your ears. His face was brighter shade of red, more flushed than before. He was at the brink and you were ready to give it to him.
You didn’t need to tell him to cum, or to do anything special. One firm squeeze of the balls and one lucidly long pull of the cock sent him spiraling. Streams of hot, white liquid spewed from his tip, shooting his seed along his torso. He moaned loudly, your name meeting your ears, his face contorting with ecstasy. He shot high, lathering his stomach, chest and even his neck in his arousal, dribbles of his cum slipping off the tip as he emptied his load. Your hand slowed over time, casually pumping him until he had nothing else to let out.
You grinned, slipping off the bed and padding your way to the bathroom to grab a towel. When you returned, he was relaxing into the bed, his eyes closing. His breathing was slowly steadying, and he looked tired already. You giggled, sitting next to him and beginning to clean the mess on his chest. His eyes cracked open carefully, looking drowsy.
“Maybe I went a little too hard, Dyl,” you told him, tilting his chin up to clean off his neck.
“No, no. It’s fine. I’m just not used to be that stimulated. I might have focused a bit too hard on what you were doing. You know, between the humping and the thigh thing and your amazing ass hand job. That was the best orgasm I’ve had in my twenty-six years of living. But fuck, my body kind of hurts now. And I’m tired. What the hell.”
“It’s called overstimulation, baby. I turned you on so much, your orgasm drained you. But I’m glad you liked it,” you said, leaning down to kiss him quickly. “Also, your legs hyperextended when you were cumming. You probably strained the muscles with how hard they were tightening. Plus, your stomach clenches when you cum. And your arms aren’t used to being up like this when we have sex. So, I can understand why you hurt already.”
“Stop analyzing my orgasm. It’s slightly disturbing and sexy at the same time.” He glanced down at himself, noticing he was getting hard again. “And you turned me on again. Just end me now.”
You smiled at him, moving so one arm was on either side of his head, pressing your lips to his in a hard kiss. He moaned into it, his tongue instantly slipping passed your lips and playing with yours. Your lips smacked together loudly, his lips finding their way to envelop yours, even with you on top of him. He let out a moaning hum, the noise disappearing down your throat. His head tilted to the side, giving him better access to your mouth, your lip being tugged between his lips with every connection.
“I can’t end you. I haven’t had my release yet, handsome,” you told him when you pulled away briefly, placing a chaste kiss to his lips and backing away completely. He watched you back away from the bed, your fingers wrapping around the edges of your lace panties. Your hips swayed as you dropped the ruined fabric to the floor, using your foot to kick it away behind you, Dylan noting the cute flick of the ankle. Your boyfriend groaned, wiggling around on the bed, the sheets shifting with him.
“Well, what do you have in mind for that?” He asked, licking at his dry lips. “You gonna ride me, baby? You just love when my cock is inside you and you look so good on top of me. Moving your hips against mine. Bouncing that pretty pussy on my cock. Your tits bounce as you do, but really, I just want your tits in my face so I can please you too. I can suck your nice, hard nipples while you ride me. Or you can ride me with your back to me. Fuck, you’re always so tight when you do that. I know it’s not often, but it’s amazing, love. You’re always so tight and your ass looks good when you move. The way you shift your hips along me and the way my cock slides in and out of you when you do, coated in all your delicious juices? Fuck, what did I do to deserve a fine lady like yourself that can please a lowly guy like me?”
You bit at your lip, listening to every word he said. Your fingers inched towards your core the longer he spoke, his eyes locked on the action. You were throbbing vehemently for him, the knot twisting in various directions in your abdomen. You let out a shaky breath, taking large steps towards him, placing one searing kiss to his lips. “Stop that. You are supposed to be submitting to me, Dylan O’Brien. Stop dirty talking me.”
“You love it,” he said against your lips. “I’m just stating the truth. You’re gonna ride me like you love to. Or, are you gonna prove me wrong and do something I don’t expect?”
“I guess I will prove you wrong,” you whispered, noting how his brow furrowed in confusion. “Tell me, how good of a tongue do you have?”
“Well, you say every time I eat you out that I have a god tongue. That I can make you cum just by licking your delicious pussy. But what does that have to do with anything? I can’t exactly give you oral unless you take these off,” he noted, gesturing to his bound hands, the clink of metal sounding as he moved them for emphasis.
“You need to have a better imagination,” You told him, moving to straddle him. However, he found your legs on each side of his head, your hands lacing with his to keep you upright, your pussy directly above his mouth. “Just because you aren’t going down on me doesn’t mean you can’t eat me out.”
“Oh,” he breathed out, his warm breath fanning over your core. You mewled quietly at the feeling, squeezing his hands tighter. The talented man chuckled, more air hitting you and causing you to shiver. “Well, let me oblige then. I can’t deny my girl when he wants something and she is in control.”
His mouth attached to clit after one long lick of your folds. You mewled louder, feeling him suck and lick at the swollen nub, giving it a bit of TLC. He hummed against you, a low moan vibrating your clit. “Holy shit,” you whimpered, a quiver running down your body. He grinned against you, of course, flicking his tongue to your clit, rubbing at it vigorously. He drew random shapes to the nub and along your entrance, letting the tip of the wet article dip inside you often. You faintly could make out the shapes, noting when he spelled his name amongst them all. “Fuck, Dyl. Just like that.”
You could feel the knot unwinding, but everything seemed to stop instantly. Your eyes opened, not realizing they closed at some point, trying to process what was happening. His tongue was still pressed to your entrance, barely touching the bottom of your clit. He had completely stilled. You weren’t entire sure why; your hips moved slightly so you could try and look down at him. The subtle slide of your body met his stilled tongue, a wave of ecstasy filling your body as it ran along your clit.
It clicked once you felt the emotion crashing over you, the light bulb turning on at once. He was waiting for you to rub yourself with his tongue, to ride his face like you would his cock. And you weren’t going to argue with the handsome actor. Your fingers squeezed at his hands, rolling your hips forward carefully to not smash his face under you. His stilled tongue pressed against you as you moved, probing at your entrance every time it ran over your pussy. He moaned against you, the sound rocking your body and coming out your mouth instead of his.
You pressed yourself into the metal headboard, letting out a ragged breath. Your body moved faster, running it along his mouth and tongue, letting the wet article please you. For Dylan, his mouth was watering. Your juices dripped onto his tongue and his chin, wetting his stubbled chin, not that he cared. He knew you were enjoying yourself, the scruff scraping at your legs and pussy, your body writhing unbeknownst to you every time your pussy and clit craped against the sort hairs.
He finally got fed up with waiting, his tongue dipping fully into your pussy. Your body halted, a loud moan of his name filling the room. It circled inside of you, swirling around to gather your juices, drinking up everything you were wanting to release. He was able to press to your g-spot, massaging the sensitive sweet spot with ease. You shook under his simple licks, your body thrilled at the pleasure. He grinned against you, swapping between your pussy and your clit as he edged you closer. He knew your quirks and he hit every spot he knew you loved.
Your eyes squeezed shut, letting the feeling of your orgasm wash over your body, seeping from every pore on your body. Dylan could feel the pleasure that seeped from your body, a low groan getting lost in the confines of your pussy. He could feel your body tensing above him, your juices leaking out onto his tongue without you realizing it was happening. Your body pressed more into the headboard, your boyfriend losing feeling in his hands from how hard you were squeezing them unconsciously. His tongue lapped at the endless amounts of juices that spilled from your depths, swallowing every last drop he could collect.
Your body shook, trying to ease itself down from your high, loud pants escaping your parted lips. Your hands slowly released his, moving to perch yourself atop his chest instead of his face. You saw him shaking his hands slightly, attempting to regain feeling in them, your cheeks flushed at the sight. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, playing with the hairs on his chest that weren’t trapped under your body. “That orgasm was a bit intense I guess.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said, licking at his lips, enjoying the taste of your that coated them. “I’m fine. I don’t blame you. Because, fuck, that was nice. We should do that more often.”
You giggled, moving so you could lean down and kiss him. It started slow, a few simple pecks on the lips until you let them linger, his mouth moving to envelop yours completely. You mewled into his mouth, tilting to the side and parting your lips, letting his tongue have access. He moaned feeling your tongues tangle together and hearing your lips clashing together in sensual kisses. Every time you pulled away for a breath, you dipped in for a harder kiss, pressing yourself closer to his hot body.
He whined quietly when you pulled away. His eyes focused on the grin on your face, feeling your body slide off his. His orbs darkened when you straddled his face again, however this time in reverse, clit to his lips, your ass pointed towards the ceiling when you leant forward against him. Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, placing a gentle kiss to his tip. His lips parted to groan, wrapping themselves around your clit when he finished releasing his noise. A shiver ran down your spine, smiling against him.
“You know,” you started, stroking him lucidly with your hand, “I always wanted to try something like this. A little “I please you if you please me” kind of thing. And what better way to do that than to do it at the same time?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied jokingly, running his tongue along your folds before you could call him out on the American Assassin reference. You huffed at him, leaning forward to wrap your lips around him, sucking at the head of his hard, erect cock. You hummed in happiness at the salty sweet fluid on your taste buds, your mouth watering the second it hit your skin. The brown-haired male smiled against your, letting his tongue disappear instead your entrance, massaging your walls with the skilled tip. Your response was simple: gently bobbing your head, letting it slide along his length until your nose was buried in the dark hairs that gathered around the base of his shaft, hollowing your cheeks to tighten the feeling around him, sucking at his erect shaft.  
The two of you simultaneously pleased each other. His tongue lapped at your core, rubbing vehemently at your clit and massaging your sensitive parts. He sucked at the hard, swollen nub, alternating his action with thrusting his tongue deep into your pussy, your fluids leaking into his mouth restlessly. Your head bobbed along his shaft, your boyfriend’s hips jerking to meet you motions. Your tongue traced the throbbing vein on the underside, making you smile into him. It was your favorite thing and Dylan always found it adorable that you found it and loved it the way you did. He also was not prone to denying that you had a way to make him feel good by running your tongue along it because hell, he absolutely loved it. Your hand stroked what couldn’t fit in your mouth, only letting go when you sucked him deep into your mouth, the tip tapping the back of your throat.
His tongue disappeared back into his mouth, his hot breath fanning over your core as he let our scattered pants. “Fuck, princess. Just like that,” he moaned, his nose brushing at your clit. What he didn’t realize was that the coil that was winding inside you was close to snapping loose when he pulled away, leaving you feeling deflated, unfinished, and annoyed. And you knew he was getting close himself. His cock twitched against the insides of your cheeks, more and more of his precum sliding down your throat.  His moans were growing louder, the distinctive clink of the handcuffs against the headboard becoming more frequent as he neared his peak.
But right when he was nearly there, his back arching slightly, his legs clenching with pleasure, you pulled away and removed yourself from his body. You strut over to the closet, looking back over your shoulder at him. His mouth was agape, wider than you had ever seen. His eyes were locked with yours, the size of saucers. “What?” you asked him.
“You… you edged me?”
“What do you mean?” You asked, looking through the closet, shaking your hips slightly knowing his eyes were locked on your plump, round ass.
“You brought me to the brink of an orgasm and didn’t let me cum. Why would you do that?” He asked quietly.
“No reason,” you told him. “I mean, you stopped pleasing me so I stopped pleasing you. And I said it was a “I please you if you please me” scenario. You stop, I stop.”
“So, you’re salty,” he laughed, your head whipping back at him with a glare. “No, I get it. My bad. How dare I, right?”
“Well look at the bright side, Dyl. When you cum later, it’ll be even sweeter because you actually get to cum,” you uttered, your fingers finally wrapping around the object you were looking for.
“Well, it better be cumming inside you. I need to be so deep inside you when I cum that you feel it for days,” he breathed out, you face heating up at his words. Your legs rubbed together, hoping the friction could alleviate some of pressure in your aching core. “Someone likes the sound of that,” he chuckled, biting at his lip.
“Who, you?” You asked, turning back to him and walking to the side of the bed. You grinned at him, hiding the object in your hand behind you back as you leaned over him, placing a slow kiss to his swollen lips. “Now, close your eyes. I have a surprise for you.”
He sighed, agreeing to your demand and closing his lust-filled orbs. The actor felt nothing for a couple seconds, waiting for you to do something, only to feel something silky cover his eyes. Your fingers carefully lifted his head, nimbly tying the silky fabric around his eyes behind his head. “What are you doing?” he asked, looking around blindly for you after you backed away. “And what did you use?”
“Blindfolding you. It’ll make me riding you feel even better. You know how they say when you lose one of your senses, the others grow stronger? That’s the goal here. Take away your sight and the feeling of my tight, wet pussy around your thick, hard cock will be ten times greater,” you told him seductively, running your fingers along his length. He moaned loudly, his body shifting on the bed, his sweaty body sticking to the sheets. “And it’s one of your ties. Not like you ever wear them.”
“Only for special occasions, Y/N,” he joked.
“Well, good. Then you are wearing one for a special occasion,” you laughed. He pouted cutely, obviously unamused with your answer. “Aw, babe Never frown. Someone could be falling in love with your smile,” you told him, poking his nose and pecking his lips.
“I hate you,” he bluntly stated.
“No, you don’t,” you retorted, straddling his hips. His hardened length was trapped between his stomach and your folds, your hips pressing into his allowing you to slide teasingly along his cock. He grunted, the back of his head pressing into the pillows. “You like this, Dylan? You like when my wet pussy rubs your cock? You like feeling me pressed against you?”
“Yes,” he whimpered lowly. “I like it more when I’m inside you though. My cock filling you to the brim, feeling your walls hugging around me. Your juices coat my cock so I can easily slide in you. You love when I am pounding into you, pressing you into the mattress. You always moan my name like no tomorrow,” he rambled, each word growing louder, each sentence getting dirtier. Every time his mouth opened, your stomach clenched, desire pooling inside of it.
“Is that right?” You asked, watching his head jostle up and down in a nod. “So, you mean, something a bit like this?” You lower half moved carefully against him, his cock aligning perfectly without aid to slide inside you. He released a drawled-out moan, his hands clenching tightly. The hardened length slid slowly inside you until he was buried to the hilt, his length pulsing against your walls and filling you completely.
“Just like that,” he groaned loudly, his voice gruff sounding. You grinned, your hands resting on his chest for balance.
“Oh yeah?” You asked, rocking your hips against his. His cock slid out of you as you leaned forward, your juices coating his skin but doing nothing to stop the friction against your walls and his tip tickling the sensitive sections of your pussy. He nearly slipped free when your hips snapped back against him, his cock tapping your g-spot when he disappeared back inside you. You repeated the process repeatedly, keeping a steady motion back and forth against him. His mouth formed a distinct O shape as you moved, a smile forming on his face. “You like this?”
“Fuck, baby. You know I do,” he whined, his hips bucking slightly.
Your motions sped up, grinding against him harder. Your ass rubbed against him when you moved forward, your pussy swallowing him completely when you moved back. Your walls clenched around him, squeezing him close. “God, Dyl. Why do you always feel so good?” You rhetorically asked him. “You’re just so big, babe. No matter how I move, you hit something that drives me wild. And you don’t even have to try to make me feel good. You fill me up because you’re huge, but you know exactly what to do to please me.”
“Keep going,” he panted.
“Let’s not get started with your thrusts,” you told him, speeding up even more. “You start off slow and gentle, but we all know you are best when you go fast and hard, pounding away at my pussy without hesitation. The way you move always does something to me, whether it’s your cock tapping my insides to drive me to the edge or your pelvis rubbing my clit when your roll against me. God, then you press me into the mattress, recklessly thrusting into my beaten and bruised cunt. But I don’t care because shit, it feels so good. The number of times you make me cum is profoundly amazing. “
“Damn, princess,” he said, cracking a grin. “Way to strong my ego in more ways than one.”
“Well, how else am I supposed to make sure you can please me? Positive reinforcement.”
“Well, you can praise me any day when it comes to fucking you,” he muttered, licking at his lips. You watched his tongue swipe over them, your nails digging into his chest with desire.
“Dyl,” you hummed quietly. “Did you know your tongue is magical?”
“Yes. You said so earlier and every time we have sex.”
“Good. Put it to use now,” you replied. He pouted with confusion, his head cocking to the side. You smiled, your motions never faltering when you leaned forward, pressing your bare breast to his lips. He groaned against it, instinctively wrapping his lips around he nipple to kiss at it. The ringing sound of his kisses to your chest echoed through your ears, the feeling of his lips encircling your bud and tugging at it flooding your body with heat. His tongue circled the nipple freely when his lips pulled away, pressing the bud back into your breast as a means of playing with it.
Your arms shook trying to keep yourself up, but your sweaty body clung to him as you moved against him. Your legs tightened on either side of him, his cock sliding in and out of you quickly. You mewled at the touch of his lips, feeling him kiss his way to the other breast, sucking red marks to the valley between them and along the outer rims of the perky mounds. Your stomach tightened, a knot tightening and loosening alternatively in your gut. You sped up your thrusts even more, your hips rolling in harmony with his unconscious bucking. His hairs prickled at your clit, stimulating you beyond belief.
The combined actions brought you to the brink faster than you thought and before you could stop it, your eyesight grew fuzzy, rolling back slightly. Your motions slowed to a gentle push, your toes curling into his legs, your body arching into his, shaking violently. Your head found its way into his neck, biting at the skin and sucking dark bruises on those spots. Your moans were directed straight into his ear, Dylan responding with his own moan to your nipple, his mouth wrapped around it. Your juices washed over him in waves, walls clamping around him as you came.
You relaxed into him, his face burying itself between your breasts. “How did you bring me to a second orgasm before I could bring you to yours?” You asked him bitterly, his chuckle muffled by your skin.
“Skill, baby.”
“Cocky ass,” You mumbled, pulled away from him. You lifted off him, Dylan sighing sadly, thinking you were done. But you weren’t of course. You turned around, back to him, using one hand to help align him with your core and sliding back on him. He groaned at the tight feeling of your pussy grasping around him.  
“Holy shit,” he grumbled, his arms jerking forward. “These fucking handcuffs and this fucking blindfold are killing me, Y/N. I want to hold you while you fuck me. I want to watch you ride me. I want to watch your perfect little ass bouncing up and down on me, feeling your pussy hugging me. I want to hold your tits to keep them from bouncing with you, playing with your hard nipples the way you like it. Please, baby. Will you please let me go so I can enjoy your body?” He pleaded.
You giggled, adjusting so you were propped up on the balls of your feet, leaning back till your hands were on his chest. “Nope. I love hearing you beg and plead, but not this time baby. Let me drive you wild. Then you will know exactly how I feel with you every time you are inside me.”
He groaned loudly, partially from annoyance and partially from the pleasure that spiked in his body when you began to bounce on his cock. His hard, long length slid inside you with ease, hitting your cervix and g-spot without any issue at such a slow pace. You hummed with happiness, rolling on your balls to get a quick pace going.
“Baby,” he whined loudly, puffs of air following his noise. “Please. God, you feel so good. Keep going, just like that.” His head pressed into the pillow, moving in every direction. His body was writhing under you, loving the feeling of you atop him. “You’re doing so good. You are so fucking again. How did you ever learn to fuck so well?”
“Experience with you, Dyl,” you panted. He cracked a small smile that you couldn’t see, proud that he was the reason you were able to please him the way you were now.
He listened to your skin smacking against each other loudly and quickly. You moaned his name, every syllable hitting his ear like a beautiful ballad. He felt your body come down on his, your nails scratching deep red marks on his skin whenever his cock bottomed out inside you. The warmth of your pussy seeped into his skin, igniting the endless flame that was growing inside his abdomen, fueling the pulses in his cock. He twitched against your walls, the pulsating down his cock growing with each passing second. He moaned your name, his head whipping in circles in pure ecstasy.
The tie began to slide up his head from his consistent motions, finally sliding off his forehead after enough effort. His eyes locked on your backside, catching a glimpse of your bouncing breast and closed eyes, the look of pure pleasure on your face.
“Shit,” he huffed at the sight, his mouth falling open. You slowed your bounces, looking back at him.
“How did you get that off?” You frowned at him cutely, Dylan chuckling lowly.
“Move enough and it slides right off. But I’m not sorry. Fuck, you look amazing.” He licked at his lips, bucking his hips into you. “May I?”
You laughed, seeing the flicker of hope in his dark eyes and the toothy smile he had on his face. “I can’t deny your precious face. Show me a good time, handsome.”
“With pleasure, princess,” he huskily stated. His knees bent slightly to give him better leverage, his hips slamming up into yours. You couldn’t stop the scream that ripped from your throat. He pounded up into you at a godly speed, reminding you how he always pleased you when you were together. He hit every spot in your pussy he knew sent your senses into overdrive. His speed and force was dynamic and made you feel amazing. Within a couple thrusts, you were on cloud nine. Within a couple minutes of his hectic thrusts, you were in heaven, listening to his moans of your name and constant compliments of how amazing you were and felt around him.
He was panting, biting at his lip to keep in control. “Y/N, I’m not gonna hold on much longer. But I want you to cum with me. One last request from the most amazing woman in the universe.”
“And what would mister Dylan O’Brien want me to do to get me to cum with him?” You asked teasingly.
“Rub your clit. Picture it’s me doing it for you. Picture it’s my tongue spelling my name again,” he told you. You nodded slowly, licking two fingers and placing them at the engorged nub. Dylan’s head cocked to the side, trying to get a good look, saddened when he couldn’t. But he knew you were pleasing yourself at the same rate he was pleasing you. He saw the way your arms tightened, causing his own biceps to curl with happiness. He could see your hand moving between your legs, imagining the way you were vigorously rubbing circles on your clit. Your screams grew louder and the actor would be surprised if their neighbors weren’t calling the police for a noise complaint at the late hour.
You let out uneven pants, your head falling back in pleasure. Your hair tickled at his chest and stomach, swaying with each thrust he did. Your fingers flicked relentlessly at your clit, eager to reach your climax. You faintly picked up on Dylan’s choppy breaths, but you were completely aware of the way his cock twitched spontaneously against your soaked walls, his cock pulsating along the entire length, transferring the feeling into the sweet spot he hit every time.
“Holy fuck. I love you so much,” he mumbled. “I’m going to cum. Oh god.”
He wasn’t lying.
His legs kicked up under you, his body jerking roughly under you. He let out the loudest grunt you had ever heard from him, feeling his seed spill inside of you in streams. Loads of his seed ejected itself inside of you, the sheer force of his orgasm sending you into your own. His juices filled you up and you felt every strand of his cum seeping into your pussy. You let out a loud moan, his name spilling from your lips one final time when your juices flowed around him, mixing with his. Your boyfriend let out indistinguishable noises, his body entering a state of bliss when he felt your juices around him. Your walls clutched him tightly, toes curling into the ruffled blankets and your body almost falling back against him with how much it was arching.
You carefully lifted yourself off him as you began to relax, falling forward on the hands and knees. Dylan’s hazy eyes looked down at you, watching two of your fingers playing with your entrance, getting coated in the combined juices that seeped from it. “God, baby. Stop being sexy. I can’t handle another orgasm today. I already had the best orgasms on my life. I don’t know if I have enough in me for another one.”
You laughed, rolling on the bed to sit up. He watched you lick one finger clean, holding the other out to him. He smiled, leaning up to lick it clean, his tongue swirling around the digit playfully. You both savored the taste of your mixed juices, smiling at each other when he let go. You slowly got up, padding your way slowly on your shaky legs to the bathroom for another towel to clean up your bodies.
You dropped the blue cotton on his stomach, grabbing the key from the shoe box on the floor to remove the handcuffs. His wrists were red and rubbed raw from his constant struggles, prompting you to take them carefully between your fingers and kissing the marks. “Are you feeling alright?” you asked, tracing the marks.
“Never better actually,” he mumbled through a yawn. You smiled sadly at him, reaching up to run a hand through his messy hair. He smiled at the simple action, his eyes closing, his face pressing closer into you. “They don’t hurt, you know. And they aren’t your fault. I kept fighting against them because it’s not easy for me to keep still, especially with you.”
“I’m glad you’re not hurt then,” you told him, leaning down to place a kiss to his lips. It wasn’t sexual or feverish in any nature. Just a simple, passionate kiss that sent sparks down your spine. A kiss that screamed “I love you” to the other participant. He smiled against your lips, pulling away slowly, his hand landing on your cheek and caressing it gently.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you too,” you replied, taking your time cleaning your bodies of sweat and cum that coated your genitals. When you were done, you collapsed on the bed next to him, your boyfriend pulling the blankets over your naked bodies. You looked up at him, kissing his stubbled chin. “You’re handsome, eve with your messy sex hair.
“Shush you,” he laughed. His fingers returned the favor, running through your knotted locks. “You’re not much better.”
You giggled, letting your legs tangle together under the blankets, pressing into his side. “Dylan,” you started, licking at your lips. “Thank you.”
“For what?” he asked, his nose burying in your hair.
“Letting me do this. It means a lot.”
“You don’t need to thank me,” he said, kissing your forehead. You nuzzled into his chest, kissing at it. “I love being in control, I love being on top. But baby, you were so sexy tonight. I’ve never been so turned on by anything.” His face flushed a bright red. “I-I mean, you always turn me on, but what you were doing to me, fuck it was hot. I mean, you’re hot and all. Beautiful actually. But I was so aroused and I just kept wanting you to continue. And I wasn’t disappointed by any means. God, I will let you be the dominant one more often if it means you’re this kinky and make me feel like a king. Fuck, I’m such an idiot. I just ruined everything, didn’t I?”
“Dyl, I understand. No need to ramble,” you said, looking up at him. “I’m glad you liked it. But let me decipher your gibberish. I was teasing you and doing things to you I’ve never done and you wanted more. You were willing to submit and relinquish control because you liked me taking charge. Am I close?”
“Not close. You hit the nail on the head. God, you are sexy when you want something passionately,” he laughed. “Now, I am pooped because those orgasms took a lot out of me. And I know you’re tired. I can see it on your face.” His arms wrapped securely around you, your heartbeats syncing together. “Get some good rest.”
“Thank you,” you mumbled, your eyes drifting closed. “Love you.”
“Love you too,” he whispered, your steady breath lulling him to sleep with one thought in his mind.
I will submit to your every whim whenever you want if it means you will stay with me forever.
3K notes · View notes
blakeella · 3 years
Text
Someone needs to write them down and put them in a book.
Stepping on the court, I'm going to try and beat him in everything I do, if that's tying my shoe faster or anything.". Someone needs to write them down and put them in a book.”. Now, I am watching Mr. I seized the chance. A LOT OF SENATE BUILDING TOWARD CAMPAIGN FINANCE REFORM AND RETURN LIMITATIONS. Hope they will come strongly. His demonic aspect arises quickly, pinprick horns forming above his brows, fangs slick in his mouth as his canines extend. When you get to the mouth of the second cave, just look up and to see them. Consider rain.”. We were giving it as much time as possible to dry from the flood a week earlier. "The conference is a beast haibike e mtb 2020 in terms of all the quality teams," Morrill said. Many people view the falls from the base platform just behind the historic lodge, where the full length of its 620 foot drop and Benson Bridge form an iconic picture. Last spring, while the author was in New York, a Presbyterian clergyman, of papuci de casa din pasla Ohio, came to her, and said, “I understand they dispute that fact about the woman’s crossing the river. The readings exceeded 400 by Monday afternoon in several cities in the northern province of Hebei.Expressways in Shijiazhuang, Hebei's sandalias doradas gioseppo capital, and more than a half dozen other cities there were temporarily closed, according to notices posted on the official microblog of the province's traffic police.More than 300 flights out of the northern city of Tianjin were canceled Sunday due to poor visibility.China has long faced some of the worst air pollution in the world, blamed on its reliance of coal for energy and factory production, as well as a surplus of older, less efficient cars on its roads.Researchers at Germany's Max Planck institute have estimated that smog has led to 1.4 million premature deaths per year in China, while the nonprofit group Berkeley Earth in California has had a higher figure, 1.6 million.. I just need to fast forward and be a man and be the best Chris Brown I can be, instead of worrying about whoever else is going to be in my side pocket.". And, after he had told all about the deed, and catalog cercei aur turcia its cause, he then kicked the horse out from under him, and was launched into eternity. Different types of speeches demand different skills. Then check your temps and report back.. “We jest takes one anoder—we asks de white folks’ leave—and den takes one anoder. Short, chunky, muscular, the heir to Bear Island had big thighs, big breasts, and big hands ridged with callus. When they both walked down the street, the master in front and the dog at his heels, its nose touched the skirt of his coat as though glued to it. Afterward he became most pious, and was heard to say that only the Maiden could replace Queen Rhaella in his heart. He seemed to be exceptionally delighted to see me, like a man who has at last found a legjobb kutyaruha esőkabát friend with whom he can talk over his ideas. “This miller’s marriage had been performed without my leave or knowledge. I see how awkwardly he sometimes tries to control himself, and to make a pretence of not grieving about me, how he affects to be cheerful, tries to laugh and amuse us. The root system of an air plant papuci de casa din pasla does not absorb much in the way of nutrition and is used mostly as an anchor to hold onto trees and rocks. “Yes, she was glad that she was able to do something generous, but she was crying. I tells Dinah, ‘De way you goes on spile all do women’s character.’—She say she didn’t care, she do what she please wid herself. Hastings and Wells added that both companies will likely prosper consumers move to Internet TV.". 1 marked the first day runners could sign up for one of the 15,500 places on the starting line. He has been educated in a system of things of which this opinion is the inevitable result; and he, individually, is far less guilty for it, than are those men who support the system of laws, and keep up the educational influences, which lead young Southern men directly to this conclusion. It was late, past midnight, when at last she fell asleep. (Christian Wardlaw). I sat with them for an hour. We are knocking on the door. Shortly after, Morton landed in Philadelphia, where he remains. In South Korea there are people bowing to each gotcha karkötő other whereas that would never happen in the UK or Spain. Mr. There’s a priest in the village there; though I don’t know whether there is or not. Borroq leaned against a wall oakley m frame ice iridium in a dark corner. Having contempt for and hatred of Israel is another. Different from Jordan shoes, Lebron shoes are more like a symbol of Lebron and his fans. I must frankly admit, however, that, either owing to the derangement of my nerves, or my new impressions in my new lodgings, or my recent melancholy, I gradually began at dusk to sink into that condition which is so common with me now at night in my illness, and which I call mysterious horror. Andy went on to trace the path of Libby ore across the country. New piping throughout, a new roof (installed on the flat areas), dual pane windows, and an air conditioning unit add longevity to the wonderful hillside home. Alot of times a player would take a day off and it wouldn bother them but it would me. Photo credit duci alkalmi ruha WDAM.Friday will mark the six month anniversary of the deadly January 21st tornado. Ser Barristan was at her right, mounted on a dapple grey. The sun had sunk below the city wall by the time they found the purple lotus, painted on the weathered wooden door of a low brick hovel squatting amidst a row of similar hovels in the shadow of the great yellow-and-green pyramid of Rhazdar. Ye went, one to his farm, and another to his merchandise.” And if ye shall answer, “When, Lord?” He shall say unto you, “Inasmuch as ye have done it to the least of these, my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”. Men said he was just … and if his was a harsh, hard-handed sort of justice, well, life on the Iron Islands had accustomed Asha Greyjoy to that. Marshals Service has hunted Thompson as a fugitive wanted for skipping a court date to explain to investors what happened to the riches. “The triarchs are neither kings nor princes. Kali is the method of fighting used in the Bourne films. A nigger should know nothing but to obey his master—to do as he is told to do. And so on. Both babies wore plagioclase helmets 23 hours a day from 9 to 13 months. This has held out a strong temptation to men who have had benevolent and laudable objects to carry, and who did not realize the full peril of the slave-system, nor appreciate the moral power of Christian protest against it. Susan college crony , editorial director of McNeely Piggott and Fox is our journalist who acts as sounding board for the editorial side. Walker will resume his testimony today, answering additional questions from Webster before facing cross examination from defense lawyer Dale Galipo. And who remains to deal with all nike jean jacket of this, who rules the little king who rules the Seven Kingdoms? Why, my own sweet sister. She was taken off—recovered and put back—the spasms came back—three times the experiment was tried, and at last the sale of the child was deferred!..
0 notes