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Roommates | 5. roll the dice

Pairing: pornstar!joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: The roommates host a board game night at the house. Both you and Joel bring dates and tension between the two of you comes to a head.

Chapter Warnings: language, jealousy, possessiveness, mutual pining, slow burn, angst, cigarette and alcohol use, flirting, sexual tension, smut (18+ MDNI), infidelity, dry humping, size kink, protected piv sex, oral (f receiving)

WC: 7.8K

Series Masterlist

The guilt was overwhelming.

The morning after you kissed Joel, you found yourself alone in your bed with hardly any decent sleep under your belt. You made up some lie about not feeling well when Sam asked if you wanted to spend the night at his place, and being the gentleman he was, immediately grew concerned and took you home with the promise to check in the next day and see how you were doing.

It only made you feel worse.

You didn't deserve his kindness. Not after what you did.

You weren't sure when the rest of the house arrived home but when you woke up around three to use the bathroom, it appeared everyone's bedroom doors were shut and the house was silent. On the way back to your room, you paused in the hallway, your eyes lingering on Joel's closed door for a minute before forcing your feet to move and go back to bed.

You had no idea what you were going to say to him, but you knew you needed to make it right. So you did the immature thing and hid in your room most of the day, texting Maria to say you had your period and you weren't feeling well, just adding to the mountain of lies you couldn't seem to stop building.

Joel didn't text you or come to your door the whole day. You heard his voice downstairs, laughing with Tommy or messing around in the garage with the lawn mower, but you just knew he had to be pissed at you. He put himself out there after you kissed him and you shot him down. How could he not be angry?

You spent the day trying to figure out how to fix things with Joel, because you needed to. The thought of him not in your life anymore destroyed you. So you would do whatever it took to make things right.

Fortunately, you heard Tommy and Maria getting ready to go out to dinner that night and you knew you'd have your chance. As long as Joel didn't bolt, that is.

Before they left, Maria popped her head in your room and you did your best to look like you were writhing in pain. It must have been convincing because she gave you a sympathetic face when she saw the state you were in.

"Want me to bring you anything home from the restaurant?"

"No, thanks," you told her, "I don't have much of an appetite."

You waited at least twenty minutes after you heard the car leave the driveway before you forced yourself to stand. The anxiety was gripping your chest like a vice, so you took some time to make yourself look a little presentable and took deep breaths to calm your nerves before leaving your room to seek him out.

When you stepped out into the hall, you noticed his door partially open, so you tried his room first. You tapped lightly on the door and when you heard him tell you to come in, fear suddenly squeezed your throat.

It started innocently enough.

Pushing open the door, you immediately spotted him sprawled out on top of his comforter and holding his phone above his head. He glanced over at you, his face unreadable, making you even more nervous.

"You just gonna stand in the doorway or get in here?"

You took a few shaky steps forward and wrapped your arms around your middle, too ashamed to look him in the eye so your gaze drifted down his body. Much to your dismay, you noticed dark spots of sweat at his collar and stomach. Your thighs clenched together at the sight and you forced yourself to look away.

"Do you think we can talk?"

He shrugged and looked back at his phone, so you took that to mean yes.

You sat down on the edge of his bed, twisting your fingers in your lap as you gathered your thoughts.

"I'm sorry for kissing you," you began.

"You mentioned that last night."

You winced at the coldness in his voice but took a deep breath and pushed forward.

"I wish we could make it work, Joel, I really do," you said softly. He paused his scrolling to pay attention to you. "I like you. I like spending time with you. Obviously, I'm attracted to you," you mumbled the last part as the heat crept up your neck. "But I know myself. I can't emotionally separate what you do for a living like you can. And I'm sorry."

He watched you squirm uncomfortably for a minute before he sighed and sat up in bed, discarding his phone on his endtable.

"It's alright. I get it. I've been pushin' things too far lately, too. It ain't just your fault."

You finally felt a shred of relief. You gave him a small smile, your eyes lingering on his slicked back hair. "Did you just shower?"

"No, I was 'bout to. Just got in from cuttin' the grass." He frowned at you curiously. "Why?"

You shook your head, trying to ignore the arousal burning low in your belly. "Your hair," was all you managed to croak out. Then he raked his fingers through his damp curls and your gaze darkened. He paused, finally putting together what was going on, and smirked.

He leaned forward a fraction, letting his eyes drift slowly down your body while his tongue passed over his lips, sending a shiver down your spine. Then his eyes snapped up to yours before he said, "you like me all sweaty, baby?"

You opened your mouth to argue but nothing came out. He watched your chest rise and fall faster than usual with your nipples poking through your shirt and he felt his cock twitch.

"Fuck it," you muttered right before you both lunged forward at the exact same time, mouths colliding together desperately. Instantly, you tasted the sweat from his upper lip, the salt settling on your tongue and sending you into a frenzy. Joel could sense it in the way your fingers clawed frantically at his shirt and he smiled against your lips before grabbing your ass with both hands and hauling you into his lap. He tipped his head back, pulling away from your mouth and gripped your chin, holding you still. With his other arm wrapped around your hips he ground upwards, grunting when his hardening length rubbed against the heat between your legs.

"Tell me you want this," he demanded, watching your slack jawed expression as he continued to rut up against you.

"I-I want this," you whispered brokenly. "Just once. Just to get it out of our system."

"Yeah," he breathed, "just once."

Your fingers were tangled in the soft fabric of his worn shirt, frozen in place as you focused all your attention on the way his cock stimulated your clit even through your clothes. You bit down on your lip and moaned, then rocked your hips in rhythm with his, quickly getting lost in your desire. He groaned and guided your movements, fingertips digging into your thighs, your shorts providing a laughable amount of protection.

"Feel that?" he grunted. Your eyes, already bleary and unfocused, met his. You nodded, mouth hanging open as you felt your orgasm building rapidly. "See what you do to me? See how fuckin' hard you make me?"

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head. This was wrong. You felt like a terrible person. You should get up and leave and call Sam and beg for forgiveness. But instead you slumped forward, forehead resting against his shoulder and whispered in his ear, "keep talking."

"Oh, you like that, I know," he panted, "can't wait to feel this pussy again. It's all I ever think 'bout. Gonna stretch you open, remember how good that felt, baby? Remember how good it felt to be stuffed full of this cock?"

"God, yes! Fuck, Joel, I'm... I need..." you whined and circled your hips faster, thighs burning from the effort.

"C'mon, need you to come for me so you're nice and ready to take my cock. Can you do that? Can you do that for me?"

"Uh huh," you whimpered, biting down on his collarbone. The coil snapped and heat spread everywhere as you gasped sharply, your release soaking through your panties, damp fabric clinging to your skin. Your body immediately felt weak but his arms tightened around you, holding you close while you rode it out.

"Good girl," he was mumbling repeatedly, his lips buried in your hair. You hummed, fingers inching upwards and lacing together behind his neck.

Joel's hands slid from your hips to cup your ass, giving you a squeeze and then a little smack on one cheek. You giggled and leaned back, brushing the hair out of your face.

"Take these off," he told you gruffly, plucking at your sleep shorts. You shakily rose to your knees and shimmied out of them, tugging your underwear off as well. Joel greedily reached out and lifted your shirt over your head, then inhaled sharply.

"Oh, fuck me," he mumbled, his eyes glued to your body.

"Yeah, that's the idea," you joked, pulling at his shirt impatiently. He flung the shirt over his head but once he took off his shorts and you saw his cock bobbing angrily between his legs, your breathing stuttered.

"Jesus," you whispered, watching in disbelief as he rolled a condom on. It had been so long since you'd slept together that part of you wondered if you exaggerated his size, but you most certainly had not.

He slapped his thighs and beckoned you forward. "C'mon, want you to sit on it."

Your eyes bugged out of your head but you slowly crawled towards him, straddling his lap and staring down at his swollen cock. "Joel, I don't think I can," you said nervously.

"Yeah, you can. You said that the first time, too, and you remember how good you took me?"

"That was a long time ago," you breathed, and he chuckled.

"You tellin' me you ain't been fucked properly since we were together?" Your eyes snapped up to his warningly before lifting your hips and positioning yourself on top of him, whimpering a little when you felt the fat tip of his cock notched at your entrance.

The sting was sharp when you began to lower yourself down, pausing embarrassingly early to close your eyes and take a few deep breaths. Joel massaged your thighs, telling you softly to relax and take your time. Your eyes fluttered open and you gazed down at him, watching his face contort when you began to take more of him inside you.

You gasped and whispered his name, your eyebrows furrowing as you felt your walls stretch to accommodate him. His gaze softened and he reached up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek lovingly. So many words were on the tip of his tongue but he held them back in favor of just savoring the moment. He had to remind himself you weren't his, but if this was all you could offer, then he would take it.

When your thighs finally met his and he was fully seated inside you, you exhaled loudly in relief. Joel swallowed roughly and tried not to move, giving you a moment to acclimate, but it was hard. He had been dreaming about it for months, thinking he never again would know what it was like to be that close to you, that he would be resigned to a life where you were just out of reach. He could feel his emotions bubbling up to the surface so to keep him from saying something he would regret, he pulled you in for a kiss, but even the way your lips slotted together so perfectly had him feeling overwhelmed.

"God, Joel," you gasped, grabbing the sides of his head and pressing your foreheads together. You hadn't even started moving yet and it was already too much. You rolled your forehead from side to side. "So deep I can barely breathe," your voice no louder than a whimper, the intimacy of the moment sending a shiver down his spine. He was used to women saying those types of things to him but coming from you sounded completely different.

You took a deep breath and leaned back. Catching his eye, you slowly began to rock, back and forth, until you felt like you were relaxed enough to go a little faster.

"Yeah, that's it," he hissed, unable to take his eyes away from your face. "Fuck, you feel so good. Missed this soft pussy," he wrapped his arms around you, pulling your chest flush against his, your mouths open and hovering over the other, each of you swallowing down little gasps and whines as your pace picked up. "Shoulda gave her a kiss, first. Show her how much I missed her," he mumbled, swiping a finger in between your bodies where you were connected. You watched with heavy lidded eyes as he raised his glistening finger to his lips and sucked. An appreciative moan rumbled from deep in his throat at the taste before letting his finger go and circling your waist once again.

Sweat was accumulating behind your knees, across your forehead and beading between your breasts. Each bounce and thrust was a huge effort and when you let your eyes travel from his face to his neck and down his chest, you could see fresh sweat across his tanned skin, too. Your mouth watered and you dove forward, your hips still keeping up a steady pace, and flattened your tongue across his shoulder, moaning at the taste of his sweat as you dragged it over his collarbone.

"Taste so good," you whispered against his skin, and he practically growled when he felt your tongue on his neck. "Smell good, too," you added, flipping your head so you could work on the other side of his neck.

"Yeah, you like me all dirty, huh? Nasty little thing." His large palms pressed against your back, holding you flush against him as he slammed up into you, hoping he wasn't being too rough.

The muscles in your stomach spasmed and you gasped, pulling away from his neck for air. Your fingers gripped his shoulders, then they found his hair, twisting and tugging as his cock rubbed against the same spot inside you, over and over, while your cries became more high pitched and desperate.

"Joel," you moaned, your voice broken, unable to form any other words. He felt you clench and he quickly shoved one hand into the mattress behind him so he could twist you both around, pinning you into the bed on your back.

"You got no idea how much I want you," he groaned in your ear, practically using his entire body to fuck you. Your chin tilted up to the ceiling, gasping for air, your vision waning. You tried to answer with a feeble me, too, but the words wouldn't form. Even if they did, he wouldn't have heard you over the sound of his headboard knocking loudly into the wall. Your thighs tensed around his hips, clutching around him as you came with a silent scream on your lips.

"Yeah, that's it. Fuck, y- oh, fuck," his hips snapped against yours, his eyes locked on your face, admiring the way you fell apart for him. All for him. "So pretty f'me, so pretty," he rambled, and when you blinked and met his gaze, your hand bracing against the headboard above so you wouldn't hit your head from the force of his thrusts, he clenched his jaw and came with a deep groan that sent goosebumps up and down your arms.

"Shit," he whispered, collapsing on top of you with a heavy sigh and knocking the air from your lungs. Your trembling thighs fell open wide and you gently scraped your nails across his shoulders, making him shiver and nuzzle against your neck.

Even though everything became vastly more complicated from that moment forward, you felt perfectly content.

You weren't sure how much time had passed. Neither of you wanted to move because once you did, you knew you would have to face the reality of what just happened. So you laid there quietly, holding each other and allowing your sweat to dry to your skin as your breathing returned to normal.

Joel was the first to speak.

Slowly he peeled himself off you and, using his elbows to hold himself up, looked into your eyes, trying to read your mind.

"What now?"

You bit your lip and shook your head.

"I don't know."

He nodded and let his gaze drop, already putting the pieces together. He had been in this position more times than he could count.

Then you gently brushed his hair back, tenderly curling it around his ear, and he sighed, unable to resist leaning into your touch.

"Are you gonna tell him?"

Your hand froze. Then it dropped.

"Can we talk about this when you're not still inside me?"

He snorted and grinned before taking a deep breath and sliding his softening cock out of you.

"Shit," you winced, your hand immediately going down to cup your mound to help relieve the ache. Your thighs were still shaky and burning from the exertion and you knew right away you wouldn't walk right the next day.

"Poor baby," he cooed, and you were about to toss back something snippy but then you noticed him inching down the bed and settling between your legs. "Lemme kiss it better," he murmured against your spent cunt, and with one broad flick of his tongue you forgot what you were going to say.

A couple weeks later, you were having lunch with Sam in his office. Admittedly when you first saw him after being with Joel, you could barely look him in the eye. But as time went on and your relationship with Joel somehow went back to normal, it became a little easier to ignore the shame. Both of you had convinced yourselves that was all you needed: just one more time together, get the tension out and move on. And it worked.

For now.

"How's your salad?" you asked him, noticing it was practically untouched while he read some email on his computer with intense concentration. He blinked and looked over at you.

"Huh? Oh, it's alright. I just got this email..." he trailed off, rereading it while you waited patiently for him to elaborate.

"What's it say?"

The corners of his mouth curled up and he huffed out a disbelieving laugh.

"I thought it was spam but I think it might be real," he said, clearing his throat before looking across his desk at you excitedly. "You remember Miles Cohen? That lawyer we met at the charity dinner?"

You shook your head slightly, trying to remember but you had met so many people that evening, you were drawing a blank.

"Well, he wants to get lunch with me," Sam continued, glancing back at his computer. "He doesn't say why, but what do you think?"

Your eyes widened and you dropped your fork back into your takeout container. "Maybe he wants to offer you a job?"

Sam sat back in his chair and tapped his fingers anxiously on his desk. "Would that be crazy? He hardly knows me, why would he do that? I've only been practicing for a year."

"I'm sure your name gets mentioned when these guys are playing golf or at their snooty men's only clubs," you said, making him laugh. "I'm serious! You don't give yourself enough credit. Your name has been in the news, you have a bigger reputation than you think."

Sam rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he considered it.

"What do you think? Should I go for it if he does?"

"I mean, that's totally up to you and the offer, but if it's good, then yeah, I think you should."

"But then I won't see you everyday," Sam said, and you smiled warmly.

"It's not like you would be moving out of state, you'll just be at a different firm. Don't turn down a good opportunity for me," you told him, picking your fork back up to finish your food. Sam watched you quietly for a moment before he took a deep breath and spoke again.

"What if I asked you to move in with me?"

You practically choked on your lunch in surprise, then took a sip of water before replying.

"Move in with you?" you repeated, hoping to buy more time. He gave you a lopsided grin.

"Yeah, then I could still see you every day," he joked, and you forced out a dry laugh.

"Why don't we see what Mr. Cohen wants before we get ahead of ourselves," you said, dodging the question. Sam nodded and looked back at his email.

"Yeah, you're right," he replied, clicking the reply button to type out a response. Fortunately he was busy with his email and didn't notice the panic seizing your body. You never expected him to move this quickly with your relationship. Was it too quick? You had been dating for a few months, maybe this was on track.

While you were trying to remember how long Maria and Tommy were dating before moving in together, the devil herself knocked on the door and poked her head in.

"Hey, thought I'd find you in here," she said, sliding into the office and taking the empty seat next to you. Sam gave her a nod in acknowledgement while he continued to focus on his email. "Did you ask him about game night yet?"

"No, I was about to," you said, feeling guilty. When Maria mentioned hosting a game night earlier in the week with a handful of friends, you had promised to ask Sam, but you couldn't shake the uncomfortable idea of him and Joel interacting again. You knew it would be unavoidable, but you had hoped to put it off as long as possible.

"Game night?" Sam asked, sending his email and picking up his fork, giving you and Maria is full attention.

"Yeah, Maria was going to invite some people over this weekend for drinks, snacks and games," you explained hurriedly. "If you're busy, I totally understand-"

"Sounds like fun, count me in," Sam said, "can I bring anything?"

Maria practically fainted.

"Can he bring anything?" she repeated to you, raising her eyebrows. "You better hold on tight to this one, he's a keeper," she said, your stomach twisting in shame before she turned back to him. "No, I've got it covered, but thank you. Unless you have a certain game you want to play, bring it along."

"I'm a big Trivial Pursuit guy, I'll bring that," he said. Maria grinned.

"Of course you are."

"Who else is coming?"

Maria tapped her chin. "Well, the five of us, obviously. Some people Tommy works with from the bar. And I invited a couple girls I went to school with. I'm still waiting for Joel to get back to me with his guests so I can get a final number."

"Joel's bringing guests?" you immediately asked, hoping you didn't sound too curious. She shrugged.

"I offered, I don't know if he's going to invite anyone."

"Maybe some friends from work?" Sam asked, and you could have sworn he was hiding a smirk behind his fork.

"Yeah, maybe," Maria said, standing up with a sigh. "Alright. Break's over."

"Yeah, mine too," you said, looking down at your phone for the time. Your heart jumped excitedly when you saw a missed text from Joel, but made sure to clear the notification so nobody would see.

Sam's desk phone rang. He reached for it and called out love you before picking it up and answering, his voice dropping an octave to sound more professional. Maria shot you a look as you exited the office and followed you to your desk.

"Love you? Did I hear that right?" she asked, leaning up against your desk while you logged back into your computer.

"Yep," was all you said.

"When did that happen?"

You thought about it for a moment. "Maybe a week ago?"

Maria nodded and watched you quietly as you typed. "And do you love him back?"

"What?" you asked, confused, then shook your head. "Oh, yeah. Of course."

She tsked and poked your shoulder. "That doesn't sound super convincing." You tried to laugh it off.

"Okay, so maybe I'm getting there a little slower than him, but I definitely have strong feelings for him."

"But you said it back?"

You cringed and nodded.

"I guess it took me off guard. Don't you think it's a little fast?"

Maria frowned. "Not really. I think three months was when Tommy and I said it."

You bit your lip, almost telling her about Sam's moving in comment, but decided against it.

"Well, I'm sure I'll get there. I've always been a little slower at opening up in relationships." Liar, you thought to yourself.

Once Maria wandered back to her desk, you discreetly pulled out your phone to check your text.

Can you help me with dinner tonight?

You rolled your eyes and typed out your response.

Sure. What do you want to make?

Something easy, it's already been a long day.

You frowned.

Are you working right now?

Yeah, aren't you?

Yeah, but with my job there is a 100% chance I'm fully clothed. Can't say the same for you :)

You chewed your nail as you watched the text bubbles appear and disappear for a moment before getting a reply.

And what if I'm not? That turn you on, baby?

You sucked in a sharp breath and glanced around, making sure Sam didn't sneak up on you before looking back down at your phone.

We talked about this. That was a one time thing.

You're the one who brought up the question of nudity. I'm just going with the flow.

You set your phone down, deciding it was best to stop the conversation and focus on work, but five minutes later you got another text.

Send me a pic. Help me out, I got a scene in ten minutes.

Your skin instantly flushed as you stared at the words on your screen, the dull throb between your legs growing more uncomfortable by the second.

You want me to get you hard so you can go fuck someone else?

Would it help if I told you I'll think about you the whole time?

"Jesus," you muttered under your breath, but your pulse was racing, completely contradicting your disgust.

Come on, just pull your top down a little for me.

Before you could overthink it, you were tugging your V-neck blouse down and pushing your breasts up with your arms, just to show a little more cleavage, and snapped a quick picture. Before anybody could walk by, you readjusted your shirt and sent it to Joel, squeezing your thighs together under your desk.

Shit, I love those tits. Perfect size for my mouth.

Are you wet?

Your heart was beating loudly in your ears, the thrill of getting caught electrifying. With shaky hands, you typed out a response.

Maybe.

I bet you are. That perfect pussy's just begging for me, ain't she?

In a moment of clarity, you realized you needed to put a stop to this before you made things even worse than you already have.

Doesn't matter. We aren't doing that again, Joel. I mean it.

Sure. Thanks for the help, baby. Gotta get back to work. See you for dinner.

You groaned and locked your phone, putting it face down on your desk so you wouldn't be tempted to respond and did you best to focus on work for the remainder of the day.

When you saw Joel later that evening, joining him in the kitchen like you promised, it was like nothing had ever happened. After a few minutes of being alone without any tension, you let yourself relax, chopping up celery and onion to make a pasta salad while he hooked up his phone to the Bluetooth speaker and played some classic rock, humming along softly while he seasoned chicken and burgers to grill.

"'S'cuse me, sweetheart," he said, reaching above you to grab a plate from the cupboard. You held your breath and focused on your vegetables, trying to ignore his familiar scent enveloping you and his broad chest brushing against your back. "Mm, you smell good," he murmured before stepping away. You swallowed and didn't say anything.

"Are you going to invite anyone to game night, Joel?" Maria asked later around a mouthful of chicken. He took a sip from his beer and leaned back in his chair, the warm breeze fluttering through his curls. Even though it was late fall, the weather in Texas was comfortable, so you all decided to eat dinner on the deck.

"Nah, I don't think so."

"Are you sure? We're all inviting people. Tommy's got the guys from the bar, I've got my girlfriends from college, and Sam's coming."

Joel stiffened a little at the mention of Sam's name but forced a smile.

"Oh, yeah?" he said, turning his head in your direction. You bit into your burger and nodded, avoiding his gaze. "Maybe I'll invite some people from work."

Tommy raised his eyebrows in surprise but said nothing.

"You never really talk about anybody from work," you said, and he shrugged.

"There's a few of 'em I get along with pretty good. One girl in particular I've been workin' a lot with lately, maybe I'll invite her," he said casually, taking another sip. You pursed your lips together, stifling the burst of jealousy that flooded your chest at the mention of Joel bringing around another girl, but he caught it out of the corner of his eye.

Tommy and Maria exchanged glances before she spoke again.

"Sounds good. How about us girls handle the food and you guys handle the booze?"

The table nodded in agreement and you stood up to clear your plate so you could duck back inside before Joel talked any more about his guest.

"So, what do you think?"

"Hm?" you questioned, tearing your eyes away from Joel and Sadie across the room and tilting your face in Sam's direction. Maria and Tommy were setting up the first game while everyone snacked and mingled. There must have been twenty or so people in your house but you couldn't keep your eyes off Joel and his incredibly beautiful co-worker.

Or co-star.

Or date.

Whatever.

"About the lunch with Cohen next week," Sam politely repeated himself for your benefit, and you immediately felt guilty for not paying attention.

"Oh, right. I think it's great. I mean, no harm can come from it, right? At the very least, it's a good networking opportunity."

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking, too," Sam said with a nod. He pressed his bottle of beer against his lips, taking a long sip. "I'm probably getting ahead of myself. He wouldn't try to poach me. Probably just wants to mentor me or something."

"Yeah, maybe," you mumbled distractedly, catching Sadie drape her arms around Joel's shoulders from the corner of your eye. She was younger than you. Thinner than you. Had nicer breasts than you.

I love those tits, he had said to you.

Does Joel say that to all the girls he fucks?

Probably. You would be foolish to think otherwise.

It was ridiculous to feel possessive of another man while you sat next to your boyfriend, you realized that. And maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the shock of seeing Joel with another girl but it was hard for you to focus on anything else.

"I'm gonna go check on the appetizers, I'll be right back," you told Sam, kissing his cheek before standing up and disappearing into the kitchen. There were a few of Tommy's guests hovering over the food and laughing with some of Maria's friends from school but otherwise it was relatively quiet. You were refilling the chips and about to check the oven to see how the dips were doing when you heard a feminine voice behind you questioningly say your name. You glanced over your shoulder to find Sadie with a red solo cup in her hand giving you a sweet smile.

"Hi," you said, taking a deep breath and dusting your palms on the sides of your pants. "Do you need anything?"

"Oh, no," she said, "thanks. Just looking to get away from the boys for a minute."

"Ah," you replied, biting the inside of your cheek. "Are you having a good time?" you asked. It felt like a huge effort to just be polite towards the poor girl, and you knew that wasn't fair. Whatever was going on between you and Joel wasn't her fault. Yet the last thing you wanted to do was have a conversation with her.

"Yeah, thanks," Sadie told you, a smile still stretching across her perfect lips. "Can I ask you a question? Girl to girl?"

You felt your muscles stiffen. Did she know?

"Yeah, of course."

"Does Joel bring a lot of girls around?" she asked nervously. You raised your eyebrows and she took a step closer. "I mean, I'm just trying to figure out if he's really into me or if he's being nice or... whatever," she ended with a dry chuckle. "God, I sound pathetic."

You gave her a tight smile. "No. He doesn't bring girls around that often. He must really like you."

Sadie instantly looked relieved and your stomach rolled. She liked him. "Wow, okay. I was surprised, you know? He's usually so serious and all business on set, I never got the impression it was anything more than acting."

Her words tumbled around in your brain. You tried to not think too much about Joel at work but for some reason, you never considered he would act professional. It was your own fault, really. He tried to tell you it was just a job, but you always had a hard time believing him.

But if it was just a job, why did he invite Sadie to game night?

"I'm gonna get another drink, you want one?" you asked, and she nodded, following you into the dining room where the alcohol had been set up for the party. There were more people in that room. Maybe you could pawn her off on someone else.

From the opening of the living room, Joel could see you and Sadie pouring drinks together. He watched you give her a friendly smile and tap your cups together. Something ugly gnawed at him while he watched. Something heavy and all consuming. Then your gaze drifted over Sadie's shoulder and landed on him, your eyes lingering on his face, no doubt trying to read his expression from across the room.

Tommy stuck two fingers into his mouth and whistled, immediately quieting down the party and drawing all the attention onto him in the center of the room.

"Alright, listen up! We set up two games since there's so many people. Pair off into teams of two and pick: we got Cards Against Humanity over here, and Trivial Pursuit by the couch. Winners get braggin' rights, losers pay for the pizza!"

A ripple of laughter echoed throughout the rooms before voices picked back up and teams began choosing their game.

"Hey, Joel," a voice said from his right, startling him out of his daze. Joel looked up at Sam standing next to his chair, looking down at him with that toothy, friendly smile.

Joel stood up.

"Sam, how's it goin'?" Joel asked, holding out his arm and shaking Sam's hand.

"Not too bad. Great party, thanks for having me."

"'Course," Joel said, taking a sip from his beer and glancing around the room.

"So, Sadie? She your girlfriend?" Sam asked. Joel's eyes flicked in his direction and he shook his head.

"More like a co-worker."

"Ah," he replied, then shot him an exaggerated wink. "Co-worker. Got it."

Joel cleared his throat, wondering if you finally told Sam the truth about his job when he quickly got his answer.

"I finally figured out where I recognize you from," Sam said, dropping his voice so nobody could overhear.

"Oh, yeah?"

Sam nodded. "You said you were an actor but didn't say what you were in. Wasn't entirely sure til I saw Sadie tonight. Co-Ed Cuties, right?"

Joel's mouth twisted as he nodded, glancing across the room again. Sadie was busy talking with some of Maria's friends and you were nowhere to be found.

"Yeah, thought so. Damn, you must have the best life, bro. What's it like?"

"Huh?" Joel asked, dragging his attention back to Sam.

"Being a pornstar," he practically whispered. "Girls must throw themselves at you."

"Oh. Yeah, sometimes," he shrugged. Then he saw you through the open door leading into the kitchen, carrying some kind of dip with oven mitts on. "Gets old after a while, though. Get to a point where you just wanna settle down."

"Yeah, sure," Sam said, bobbing his head up and down. "Of course, I totally get that. I'm in the same place. Well, not exactly the same," he said with a polite laugh, "but you know what I mean. Settling down and all that."

Joel turned his attention back to Sam, his brain locking onto the implication behind his words.

"That so?"

You re-entered the living room, your gaze briefly drifting over to them before Maria tugged you over, distracting you, but Sam noticed your presence and smiled.

"She took me by surprise," Sam told Joel warmly. "She's so damn smart and funny, I just wish I could figure out what's going on in her head."

Joel frowned. "What'dya mean?"

"I mentioned moving in together the other day and I'm not sure she's really into the idea," Sam said. "Kind of dodged the question. But I'm hoping I just took her off guard and she'll come around."

All the air rushed from his lungs and Joel's chest tightened at the sudden prospect of losing you. Is that something you wanted? Would you really move in with this guy and forget all about him? That can't happen.

Sam was still talking, rambling on about some date the two of you went on the other night but Joel could hardly hear any of it. He had tunnel vision, completely disregarding how it might have looked to others if they caught him staring at you, but he didn't care. He needed to get you alone. He needed a cigarette. He needed to remind you how good he made you feel so you wouldn't leave.

You caught his eye and he could tell you sensed something was off. The look on his face must have given him away because you leaned into Maria and told her something before heading for the stairs, only glancing over your shoulder at him once before disappearing.

"Hey, I better hit the head before all this shit starts," Joel told Sam, practically looking right through him. He patted Sam on the shoulder and brushed past him, vaguely registering the polite acknowledgement from your boyfriend before following you up the stairs, his heart hammering wildly in his chest.

He glanced into your bedroom and paused, looking around and wondering where you were when he felt your hand tug his shirt from behind. He swiveled around and you dragged him quickly into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind you.

"Did you tell him?" you immediately asked, "does he know?"

"No," he whispered, slowly looking you up and down. Your shoulders sagged in relief.

"Thank god. You freaked me out," you replied, resting the back of your head against the wall with your eyes closed.

"Are you gonna move in with him?"

Your eyes snapped open. "What?"

"He said he wants you to move in with him. Are you-"

"I don't know, Joel," you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut and pinching the bridge of your nose. "Not yet, at least."

"Yet," he repeated slowly, the word ricocheting in his head. He nodded, mostly to himself since your eyes remained closed, then took a step forward and fell to his knees, his fingers deftly undoing the button on your jeans. You gasped and practically jumped out of your skin when you realized what he was trying to do, yet you still asked:

"What are you doing?"

He unzipped your jeans and gave them a tug. "Remindin' you how good I can make you feel."

His words instantly made your knees weak. As much as you put up a fight, as much as you warned him it was only one time, deep down you always knew it wasn't. There was something undeniable that pulled you together, something that was growing impossible to ignore. And fuck, the way he was quite literally on his knees, practically begging for you with his nose lightly brushing up against your clothed sex made the arousal soak a wet spot through your panties, one that he instantly saw when he pulled your jeans all the way off.

He looped his fingers through the sides of your underwear and glanced up at you. "Just say the word and I'll stop."

You bit your lip, chest rising and falling with anticipation as the party roared on below you. You swallowed and shook your head.

"Say it," he demanded, his tone making you shudder.

"Do it."

"Do what?"

You squirmed against the wall impatiently. "Make me feel good," you breathed, and he smirked before tugging your panties off with one swift motion.

"Such a good girl," he murmured, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder. He pressed his nose against your core and took a deep breath. "Fuck. Still the best pussy I ever had," he whispered before languidly sliding his tongue through your folds, a deep groan reverberating in his chest.

"Yeah?" you rasped, one hand reaching out to clutch the towel bar while the other got lost in his hair. "Even better than Sadie?"

His tongue paused and he glanced up at you, his eyes glittering with excitement. "Do I hear some jealousy, baby?"

You hummed and shook your head. "Just asking a simple question."

He smirked and delved back between your legs, his hot tongue licking at you feverishly for a moment before he pulled back and licked his upper lip. "Yeah, definitely better."

You moaned, feeling a sick rush of pride shoot through you. He latched onto your clit and gently sucked, making you gasp before sliding his tongue down to dip inside your entrance, greedily lapping up your arousal. "Was she the one you were working with the other day?"

"Hm?" he asked, remaining focused.

"When I sent you the picture," you whispered, biting down on your lip to stifle a groan when he pressed his scruffy face harder against you. "You said you'd think of me. Remember?"

He chuckled against your skin and squeezed your ass.

"Such a naughty thing all the sudden, huh? Thought you didn't like my job?"

"I don't," you replied, your voice breaking when he messily began to eat at you again, the lewd slurping echoing in the small room making it hard to focus. "Shit, Joel, don't stop," you whined, gripping the towel bar so hard you thought it might break. You tipped your head back, knocking into the wall with a dull thud. You removed your other hand from his hair so you could slap it over your mouth, muffling the noises tumbling from your lips with each lick and suck from his expert mouth.

Suddenly you heard your name being called from the bottom of the stairs. Sam's voice, to be exact. You inhaled shakily while Joel grazed his teeth lightly over your clit, causing your voice to crack when you yelled through the door, "I'm coming!"

Joel chuckled but didn't stop, the thrill of it all going right to his head. His fingers dug into your thighs, feeling lightheaded by the way your hips ground against his face. You moaned and dropped your chin to your chest, watching in a trance as he ate at you with such enthusiasm, his upper lip already coated in your slick. It was the thought of your scent all over his mouth for the rest of the night that sent you over the edge.

"Fuck!" you squeaked before slapping a hand over your mouth again as you came. Your body shook from the force of your orgasm, little whimpers getting lost in your palm. Then Joel felt your muscles go lax under his touch and he quickly pulled away so he could catch you.

"I got you, shh," he whispered, tugging you against his chest before slowly lowering you down to sit on the edge of the tub. He brushed the hair away from your eyes, a thin layer of sweat on your forehead catching some stray pieces, and he grinned at the look on your face. "Tell me, baby. You ever come that hard with him?"

You blinked and tried to focus on his face, your entire body still feeling like it was made of jelly. "No," you whispered.

"Good."

You tilted your head lazily to the side. "Good?"

"Yeah. Good," he repeated. He cupped your cheek, brushing his thumb lightly over your lips, his eyes scanning your face and taking in every detail, locking it away the same way you were doing to him. Finally, he met your gaze once again. "I love -" he paused and swallowed tightly, your breath hitching in your throat as you waited for him to continue, " - this pussy." You rolled your eyes and shoved his shoulder, making him chuckle. "What? Wasn't lyin' when I said it's the best I've ever had."

He dropped his hand from your cheek and stood up with a groan, wiping his mouth with a tissue. "I'll go out first, give you a second to fix yourself up," he told you with a wink, making your heart flutter. Then he opened the door and disappeared out into the hall, leaving you stunned on the edge of the tub.

One time with Joel you could rationalize. It was still wrong, no question about it, but there was a comfort in believing it wasn't anything more than something physical.

But you said it yourself: you were never good at separating emotions from sex.

That night, when you thought for a moment he was going to say something entirely different, something you didn't realize you were yearning to hear until his words teased the truth out of you, the heavy feeling in your chest confirmed what you were terrified to admit all this time:

You were falling for Joel.

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#icymi <3

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punkshort · 22 hours

Text

Yeah, okay. This unlocked something in me, I fear.

I'm thrown back in time to when I had a huge crush on a Spanish teacher in high school and this is like, literally living out that fantasy for me.

Thank you, Katie, for unearthing those memories for me 🤣

So exceptionally well written, as usual! ❤️

Summertime Sadness

Pairing: Mr. Ben X fem!Reader | W/C: ~4.3K | Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: With your Senior year coming to a close, Mr. Ben tells you how he feels about your class behavior. Some lessons are hard to learn.

Warnings: Dub-con (could even say non-con) dark themes. This fic absolutely contains an exploitation of authority. You alone are responsible for what you consume on this platform; just keep scrolling if that’s not your cup of tea. Student/teacher relationship. Dom/Sub undertones. Age gap. Reader just turned 18. Sexual tension. Blatant flirting. Teasing. Bratty behavior. Use of sir. Use of daddy. Semi-public sex. Desk sex. Loss of virginity. Orgasm denial (!! the fic theme per the challenge). Light spanking. Crying. Some Spanish. Unprotected rough P in V. Oral (both). Creampie. Dirty talk. A smidge of degradation. Twisted morals. No aftercare. A/N: I have to say, writing orgasm denial for Mr. Ben was definitely not something I saw on being on my 2024 dance card, but I’m here for it. This fic was written as part of @iamasaddie Kinky May follower celebration. Aly, congrats babe. Thanks for the fun prompt.

Fic title and final line inspired that song. You know the one. Minimally edited.

Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Notifications

Fresh off the heels of your 18th birthday, you stride into the final day of your senior year.

Only two classes left. It feels strange, a bittersweet blend of nostalgia and excitement. In some ways, you've acknowledged your growth, recognizing the woman you’re becoming. In others, many things have remained the same—the bright pink on your bedroom walls, the frill of your bedspread, the chipped glitter on your nails. But in many ways, everything has changed.

You certainly no longer look like a young girl; boys are suddenly turning heads left and right. Your shirts fill out more, and your jeans are tighter. You stand taller now, and your reflection in the mirror reveals confidence you didn’t have a year ago.

Your dad now gets very nervous when the weekend arrives and you tell him you have movie plans. He hides his worry behind a weak smile and a stern warning. You roll your eyes but appreciate his concern. You wonder how he might react if you told him it’s not the boys he has to worry about in the first place.

You have fun with them, of course. It doesn’t take much—a flick of a pen, a pop of gum, and a good push-up bra—but none of them have ever really captured your attention. No, after the lights go out, with your hand between your thighs, you let yourself dream of rough hands, the tickle of a beard on your soft skin, and a much firmer, much older presence.

So what if he’s your teacher?

Cyndi Lauper said it best, girls just want to have fun. ++++

“Excelente, Matt. Muy bien hecho (excellent, Matt. Very well done),” you hear Mrs. Martinez say shortly before she turns to you, red lipstick smudged on her teeth.

¿Puedes decir, "Next month, I intend to participate in a cultural exchange program with students from Spain."

Despite having spent the past year in this class, you haven’t really gotten much better. You might be if Spanish just didn’t happen to fall right before English, before his class.

You pause, wide-eyed and suddenly very nervous.

“Uhh –,” you clear your throat. “El próximo mes, tengo la intención de participar en un programa…” you pause again, looking at her for any sign of reassurance that you’re not totally messing the sentence up, “de intercambio cultural con estudiantes de España…” you elongate the a in España, almost a question to it.

“Perfecto,” she praises “Excelente pronunciación y uso del subjuntivo (excellent pronunciation and use of the subjunctive).”

You sink back into your seat, satisfied and self-assured. The clock on the wall suddenly commands your attention, each tick a tiny torment, counting down the minutes until the next period. Your last class. Not just the end of the day this time, but what feels like the end of an era.

Your stomach feels like it’s in knots, your palms suddenly a little clammy. You're unsure if it’s the lingering anxiety from the pop quiz or the bittersweet realization that you won’t see Mr. Ben after this.

You knew this moment would come; you had prepared for it. If this was the last time you’d see him, you figured, why not put on a little show? That’s why you slipped into a short skirt and a dainty little tank top this morning. You swear you saw your mother clutch her pearls when you walked out the door, but she didn’t bother to say anything, and you knew she wouldn’t, not since your last argument. “Mom, I’m 18 now, I can dress however I want,” you had said.

This wasn’t entirely new. You’ve slowly gotten more and more suggestive in your outfits over the progression of the year, particularly in Mr. Ben’s class. You didn’t mind hiding behind a hoodie or a sweater in your other periods, but you always made sure to tuck that into your backpack before English.

It hadn’t been your plan at first, but when you showed up in his class earlier this year, your white tank top soaked from the rain, you noticed how he couldn’t take his eyes off you, the way his eyes fluttered down to your hard nipples hidden behind the transparent fabric.

But there was something different about the way he looked at you, unlike how the boys in your grade did. His gaze held something deeper, something darker, perhaps. He looked at you as if you were the devil sent to destroy him and an angel destined to save him all at once.

And you love it.

Week by week, you began dressing a little more suggestively. You couldn't help but smile when you approached him after class one day, wearing a pretty sundress that hinted at the creases between your thighs and ass if you bent over just right, and he went beet red.

You had spent the entire year chipping away at the exterior he had built to maintain any sense of professionalism.

And today was the day you were going to watch it all crumble.

++++

To your dismay, Mr. Ben hardly spends any time looking at you during class. In fact, he seems to be trying to look anywhere but. You do your best to catch his attention. You even go as far as to pull a lollipop out of your bag, provocatively sucking on it in the hopes of catching his eye.

Despite your best efforts, he pays you no mind.

Your heart sinks when the final bell rings, and Mr. Ben wishes the rest of the class a good summer and says he'll see everyone at graduation.

You can't hide the disappointment on your face as you start to pack up your bag, the sweetness of the lollipop on your tongue a stark contrast to your now gray mood. Just as the rest of the students shuffle out of the room, you hear him call your name, asking you to stay behind. You pause, curiosity piqued despite your lingering disappointment, and turn to face him, wondering what he could possibly want you to stay behind for.

The classroom empties, and he closes the door, leaving an electric silence hanging in the air at the sound of the lock. You turn to face him, heart pounding in your chest. His eyes finally meet yours, and you see a flicker of the same tension that has been simmering all year.

"You wanted me to stay?" you ask, the lollipop pinched between your fingers, still toying with it on your lips.

"Yes, I did," he says, rounding the desk and coming to sit on the front of it, arms crossed over his chest. His broad frame fills your vision, the dress shirt clinging to his skin just right, his salt-and-pepper curls framing the crease between his brows.

You drop your bag on a nearby desk and take a step closer to him.

"I've been really disappointed with your behavior this past year," he rasps, his voice firm.

And oh. It catches you off guard.

"And why is that, Mr. Ben?" you ask, playing the innocent card, deciding to go along with whatever this is, your attention mostly on the sweet stickiness of the lollipop on your tongue.

He scoffs, but his eyes are glued to your mouth. “Please, sweetheart. Don't think I haven't noticed the way you've been looking at me, dressing like a little slut just to catch my eye."

“Oh, so you did notice then…” you say, your voice teasing as you swirl the lollipop in your mouth.

"You like tarting yourself out for a grown man, sweetheart? Someone old enough to be your daddy?" He rises to stand and towers over you. His eyes glaze over your face, that same darkness even stronger now. His pupils are dark enough to edge out the brown, while your eyes are bright enough to cut glass as you look up at him.

"And what if I say yes?" you ask, removing the lollipop and holding it between your bodies. Your eyes drop to his lips, watching as his jaw tenses and the vein in his forehead becomes more pronounced. He seems to wrestle with his thoughts for a moment before his gaze locks onto yours, intense and scrutinizing.

"Come on, Mr. Ben, don't you want a taste?" you say suggestively, your voice dripping with playful teasing. Slowly, you rub the glassy texture of the candy over his lips. His eyes widen slightly, and his lips instinctively part. With a hint of a smile, he accepts the candy on his tongue, savoring the sweet flavor as it dissolves.

"Yeah, sweetheart, I do," he groans, his voice rough with desire. He breaks the lollipop with his teeth, the hardness crunching audibly. The sweet shards scatter across his tongue, and he grins at you like he wants to do the same to you.

His hands find your hips, and he pulls you into him, his cheek grazing the soft skin of your jaw as he dips to your neck. His lips latch onto your skin, sucking gently, leaving a mark, eliciting a soft moan from you.

He pulls back, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “Naughty fuckin’ girl, I oughta teach you a different kind of lesson, one you might actually listen to. Poor little baby’s been too cock drunk in my class, probably didn’t learn a damn thing in this class all year, did you?”

"No, sir," you giggle, your laughter light and playful. He responds with a low groan, the sound filled with a mix of frustration and arousal.

“Guess we’re gonna have to do something about that,” his hands drop to your ass, and he plants a firm smack on your backside with his right hand.

“I’m gonna tell you what to do, but I’m not gonna tell you twice,” he says as his large palm comes up to hold the column of your throat, his thumb just under your jaw, tilting you up to face him.

“When I tell you to get on your knees, you’re gonna do it,” he says, voice low. “If I tell you to look at me, you’re gonna do it,” he continues, “And if I tell you not to touch yourself, you’re not going to,” he says, dipping his face lower to you. You wonder if he can feel your pulse quickening under his hand, caught in a lusty daze fueled by hot breath and the sight of his blown pupils.

“Tell me you understand,” he commands, not really questioning.

“Yes,” you rasp.

“Yes, what?”

You look up at him, confusion painted on your face, but then you realize what he’s asking for, what he’s giving you. What he wants you to call him.

“Yes, daddy. I understand,” you say, tightening your grip on his forearm, feeling his muscles' strength still grasp you, pulling you closer to him.

He looks down at you, apparently satisfied.

You think for a moment he might kiss you, his lips barely an inch from yours, but he doesn’t.

“Oh so you are capable of listening,” he praises, releasing his grip on you.

“Get on your fucking knees, baby. You wanna dress like a whore, I’ll treat you like one.”

His words wrack through you, the filth and the promise behind them sending shivers down your spine. You fall to your knees, feeling the hard, scuffed-up linoleum beneath you. Positioning yourself beneath him, you fold your hands in your lap, waiting for his next command. He reaches down, his pointer finger lifting your chin to face him. He runs his thumb slowly over your lips, even his touch is demanding.

“Been thinkin’ about what this pretty little mouth could do all year long.”

As he releases you, you take that as permission and reach out to undo the buckle of his belt. You momentarily fumble with the cool metal until it’s completely unbuckled before you begin working with the zipper on his slacks. You tug both his pants and his underwear down just below his hips, and his thick length springs to attention.

Your breath hitches in your throat at the size of him. He’s big. His cock is already at full attention, red and weeping. Your mouth waters at the sight of it. You look up at him, silently asking for permission to touch him, and he nods.

“Go on,” he says, and your hand comes to wrap around the base of him. The thought of all of him being yours stirs something low in your belly. If something is so wrong, why does it feel so right?

You stroke along his length, feeling the silky warmth of his skin, the heat, and the thick veins that add texture to each pass of your palm. You pause at the top of him and let out a little squeeze until a small bead of precum forms at the tip. You lap it up, and he lets out a groan, and his hands fall to grab the back of your neck.

“Keep that mouth wide open for me,” he orders.

You part your lips and tease your tongue around and then start sucking on the tip, slowly taking more in until you’re sucking on the full head of his cock, and your tongue is whirling around it. His grip on the back of your neck tightens, and he gently cants his hips forward, urging you to take more of him.

You’re barely halfway down, and the back of his cock is already on your throat. You start bobbing your head up and down, and he mutters a little curse under his breath and bites down on his lip.

“Look so pretty with your teacher’s cock down your sweet little throat,” you moan around him, the sound reverberating against him, “This what you wanted, hmm? Needed your throat fucked like a slut?”

Your thighs clench together, a syrupy mess of your own slick smears on your skin beneath your skirt, barely contained in the thin strip of your thong, his filthy words adding to the roaring ache in your cunt. This doesn’t go unnoticed by him as you notice him stiffen just a little more.

He holds your head and forces you to pick up the pace, pushing yourself to take more of him. He thrusts firmly, meeting your movements along his shaft.

“Tha’s it, just like that…” his groans are lecherous, coupled with the profane sounds of you gagging on his cock. It’s rough. He’s bigger, thicker than any high school boy you’ve ever had in your mouth. You can hardly breathe, but he doesn’t seem to care.

He tightens his grip on your hair and fucks your mouth the way he wants to, the way you always hoped he would. When you try to pull off of him to catch your breath, he tsks at you, and holds you on his cock for a second longer before letting go and letting you off him to catch your breath.

You cough and try to fill your lungs with fresh air. He takes a moment to watch you wipe the saliva and precum from your mouth with the back of your hand. It’s a vulgar sight, his freshly legal student on her knees in his classroom, mascara smudged from the tears you’ve begun to cry from his cock. He commits it to memory.

“That was your first lesson,” he rasps, “Now it’s time for your second.”

You rise, your knees burning from the harshness of the floor. He takes a step forward, guiding you back until your backside presses against the front of the desk. His knuckles trail over the front of your body, pausing on the swell of your breasts before dipping lower to the edge of your skirt. With a deft flick of his wrist, the pads of his fingers graze over the front of your sex, feeling the wetness that has soaked through the fabric.

“I’d ask if this is all for me, but I already know it is. Sloppy little cunt has been dripping for me all year, hasn’t it?” he coos, slipping his fingers beneath the fabric, grazing against your clit. You gasp in response. He uses his fingers to draw a few tight circles on your clit, eliciting a moan from you as he does.

“Please, daddy. Need it so bad.”

“Misbehavin all year, and you really think you deserve to come?”

He uses his middle finger and prods at the entrance of your wet hole. You pout.

“Daddy, please, I’ll be a good girl from now on, I promise.”

“I don’t think you will, sweetheart. Can’t be giving ya whatever you want. Everything comes with a set of consequences,” he kisses your neck and continues to tease your clit.

“Including fucking your teacher,” he rasps in your ear, punctuating it with a bite on the flesh there. He shoves his middle finger up into your cunt. You yelp, it’s so much, almost too much.

He moans in response.

“Oh, and you’re tight, too. Thought you might be. You ever been fucked here?”

“No…” you sound shy saying it.

“Never?” he asks, eyebrows raised.

“No, only ever fingers,” you whine as he slips another finger in. There’s a stretch and a burn from the intrusion.

“Fuck,” he groans as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you. You’re so wet that the burn is beginning to lessen as he gently moves his fingers inside of you.

“Gonna be a teacher’s pet, and let me help you out with that? Gotta earn it to get back on my good side, and you can start by givin’ up that sweet little v-card of yours to me.”

You look up at him, a little unsure, a little nervous. You glance down at his cock, he’s so big, you’re not sure you can take all of him, but you know you want to try.

“Yes – yes, daddy.”

“Lay down on the desk,” he commands, and you listen.

Your upper back rests on the oak desk, draped over the final grades for the year. There's just enough room for your hips to slightly dangle off the edge, with his hips positioned between your legs.

He pauses to admire the way you look up at him, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your perky tits still in your bra, a little sheen of sweat on your chest. He notes the way you still look flustered from taking him in his mouth, still a little nervous. He smiles, knowing he’s going to fuck every ounce of that right out of you.

He wants to claim ownership of every inch of your body, and he doesn’t want to wait any longer.

He drops to his own knees this time, hooking his thumbs into your underwear to pull them down with him. His face immediately finds your cunt, and he wastes no time before he lays a trail of soft kisses over your wet and waiting folds. He starts slow, a kiss here, a lap there, and eventually begins to pick up his pace.

He sinks a thick middle finger into you again, and this time you're ready for it. Your hips cant up at the welcomed intrusion, and your back arches, unable to stay on the desk. You feel his hot breath on your pussy and let out a small mmm at the way he presses his forearm across your lower half to lower you back down to the desk, to keep you still.

His mouth returns to your clit to work you, and he adds another finger, twisting and working them both into you with precision. You’re so fucking close – your slow crawl to the cliff of your orgasm turns into a full-on sprint. As if he couldn’t already tell from the way you’re moving, you verbally confirm your closeness for him.

“Please,” you moan. “Please – ugh, need to come, please let me come,” you beg.

“You come when I say you can,” he says, voice slightly muffed against your wet skin.

He presses his lips against your clit, but doesn’t give you enough tongue to get you where you need to go. You’re already so swollen, sensitive – you know all you’ll need is a little suck, and you’ll be gone.

You don’t know how much longer you can stave off your pleasure, but you want to be good for him, to listen, to obey.

He knows you want to come, that’s obvious, and god does he want to know what you look like when you do, to feel it, to be the reason; but still, he continues to tease and let it build. Your face twists, your jaw goes slack, and your eyes close and it all but screams I’m close, make me come, make me come.

It’s all too much, way too much. Tears begin to fall from your eyes.

“Consequences, sweetheart,” he rasps, “you gotta learn.”

He sucks your clit into his mouth and he grazes it with the top of his tongue and closes around you. You flutter your eyes closed. You warn him that you’re close, “Daddy, fuck, please let me come. I’ve learned my lesson, I swear,” you rasp out your pleas with a symphony of moans.

Satisfied with your pleading, he decides to take mercy on you. He looks up at you through his thick lashes, drinking in the way he has you melting, the way he has you crying, begging for him.

“Alright, sweetheart. I believe you. Go ahead and come, want you to soak my face,” he says, voice hoarse but still smooth like velvet.

You obey and feel the taste of your sweet release rush through you like a warm summer breeze on a hot day. Your vision goes white, and your whole body tenses with pleasure as he works you through it.

“You gonna tell your daddy thank you for letting you come?” His dilated pupils tell you he’s high on it; on you. His beard shines with your slick under the harsh fluorescents.

And shit, it’s filthy. He looks indecent in the most delectable of ways.

“Go on, wanna hear you say it,” he says, grabbing his thick cock in hand and lining the head of it up against your wet and waiting hole, pausing there before pressing in, waiting to hear your gratitude for what he gave to you. You let out a little whine.

“Thank you, daddy,” you tell him, and he nods, once more satisfied. Both of his hands come to your hips, surely leaving little bruises under his strong grip. Your slick makes it easy for him to bury himself in you to the hilt, even with the size of him.

“You sure you’re a virgin? Sure are taking this cock like it’s your fucking job, like it was made for me, aren’t you?”

He pauses for a moment to give you a second to adjust; you feel so full, you swear you feel him in your lungs. He begins a relentless pace, thrusting his cock deep inside of you, the obscene sounds of the clapping noises fill the classroom.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy, thank you, oh fuck,” you cry.

“That’s right. Say thank you for giving you this cock, for fucking you smart,” he commands.

Thank you – thrust – tha - thrust – thank you, fuck, thrust.

“Please tell me you’re on the pill or somethin’, wanna fill up this tight cunt, give her a taste of what she’s been asking for all year,” he groans as he continues thrusting into you.

“I am, I’m on the pill, please, daddy, give it to me.”

“Fuck, shit. Gonna fill this tight pussy up.” He fills you deeply, pausing buried deep inside of you, and you feel him explode inside of you. Your breath comes in stilted as the world begins to fade back in.

When he takes a step back, his tip smears against your inner thigh, leaving a trail of precum on your flesh. You bring your hand to cup your pussy, collecting the cum in your palm. You catch most of it, but some of it smears and pools onto the papers below.

He pulls up his pants and walks across the classroom to a box of tissues on the back wall. He hands them to you, and you use them to clean yourself up. You both adjust your clothing in silence. Once you're both fully dressed, you stand there quietly, the weight of the moment settling heavily between you.

"You did good. I'll make sure you get an A for your final grade," he says, his voice hollow and detached. He avoids your gaze, the weight of his actions now sinking in, the line he's crossed glaringly obvious. You open your mouth to say something, but he's already turned away, striding towards the door. Without a word, he opens it and holds it for you, the silence between you deafening.

"Have a good summer," he tells you, his tone almost too casual. "I'll see you at graduation."

You try not to read into what he might mean by that.

You walk away from him, feeling a little used, confused, changed.

Somehow, everything and nothing has changed at the same time. As you walk away, a whirlwind of emotions churns inside you.

What's summertime without a little sadness?

END

Tagging some moots who might enjoy: @toxicanonymity @syd-djarin @endlessthxxghts @auteurdelabre @yxtkiwiyxt @joelmillerisapunk @xdaddysprincessxx @javipispunk @survivingandenduring

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punkshort · 23 hours

Text

Moments ago, I watched my husband scrolling on Twitter and pause over some asshole tweeting the pride flag with the text 'June is groomer awareness month' over the image and he just silently reported and blocked the account and then began complaining to me about the neighbor's lack of weed whacking.

I don't know it just made me smile.

#pride month

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punkshort · 1 day