Archive of Our Own ^beta

You had randomly brought the subject up in a drunken daze, you joked about it and shared a laugh with others. Pegging König was a hilarious after thought, it came and left your mind by the next evening, forgotten in the heated afternoon you had. Naked and spread under him, your bodies charged with both thrill and need, König’s arousal hanging heavily between his legs, throbbing and leaking from the tip, pretty globes of pre dripping down your thighs.

It was going on as usual, his wandering hands palming at your skin, thumbing your nipples with gentle rolls, kneading down your chest and abdomen until he gripped your thighs and flipped you over. You both groaned when you straddled his lap, wet cunt grinding against his cock, feeling the veins that pulsed under you and his trimmed hair pressed to your sensitive clit. You pawed at him, nails raking down his chest, leaving angry, red trails on his tanned pale skin as you kissed, rough and hungry. Gripping you by the nape, he pressed you further against him, noses touching and eyes hooded with lust.

König riled you up so much, seemingly able to press the right buttons and pull the right strands to make you as feral for him as he is for you, deep and heady. And somehow, when he pulled away from you, a giddy gleam in his icy hues, the last thing you expected was to find yourself spooning him from the back, hips straining and aching from rutting into him. Your hips slotted right under him, leg hooked under your arm as best as you could with König‘s tight, coiled muscles, you mouthed the flushed skin of his back and shoulders.

He groan and panted, mumbling out your name whenever you bottomed out, your silicone cock brushing past his prostate and burying yourself as deeply as you could. Every hard thrust you gave had you moaning, biting into his skin, trailing dark hickeys down the span of his rippling back, scarred with both knives and bullets, and now marked with your teeth. You felt every pump, the second dildo attached to the inside of the strap nudging your cervix, the black, bulbous head pushing pulling and pushing with the sway of your hips.

You loved that he went and bought a double-ended strap-on, and you just loved how it came with a remote that König held in his hand, controlling the strength of the vibration to tease the both of you. It occasionally spiked, shaking through your whole body as much as it did his. Your ears burned a deep red at the wet sounds you both made, the loud squelch of your drooling cunt and his cock, jerking and throbbing in his hand. You mewled, head thrown back as you came, pace stuttering and sloppily fuck into his gaping ass, the red rim swallowing the veiny dildo with a wet sound.

Your thighs shook, walls clamping down and milking it like it were König’s cock, your legs burned and weakened, but you were determined to make him cum. You mumbled out praises, pounding him as he pumped himself, your pace shallow and hard, pushing against his prostate over and over. A low moan rumbled out of him chest, head thrown back while he rocked back, hand sliding up and down, cum shooting from the tip. You rode out both your orgasm, panting heavily before you slid out, unbuckled the leather straps of the toy and slumped down beside him.

“I should’ve said this sooner, ” you groaned, a tired smile curling the corner of your lips.

For some reason - not that you’d dared question it or all and any reason behind it - Johnny’s rim was far, far more loose and flexible than any you’ve seen. The flushed wrinkles of his hole stretched easily around your finger, his warm walls molding to welcome a second lubed finger, squelching as loudly as his groan was whorish. You strained your wrist, keeping your hand still as you spread your fingers apart, slowly and carefully opening him up further.

Johnny took it effortlessly, but you were still gentle with him, knowing from past relations that you had to take your time, any rip or ache would be both and annoyance and pain for either of you. Steadily pumping in, you twisted your wrist down, palm cupping his ass, and curled your fingers, feeling around for the little spot that would send him spiraling down. You prodded around with each pump, feeling him clench and twitch, his heavy cock pulsed from where it hung, begging you to touch him.

You huffed, lips curling in amusement when he arched, pushing back against your thrusting fingers with a cry. You’d found his prostate, the sensitive organ becoming victim to your torture until you knew he could take more. You worked to loosen him, adding a third digit and pressed down on it, watching him grind back and moan.

“Right there, huh?” you cooed, a wide grin stretching your face, “Yeah, I think you’re ready now.”

He gasped, his breathing puffing out in laboured breaths, turning to peer over his shoulder, eyes dilated and face slick with sweat. He tensed when he saw the mischievous glint in your eyes, eyes widening a small fraction before he let out a groan at the toy you held up for him to admire.

“What’s wrong, Johnny?” you crooned with a taunting voice, egging his ego to take on your challenge, “Didn’t think you were that scared of anal beads. Honestly-”

“Nae- Ah- I’ll tak’em, " he ground through gritted teeth, falling for you little play.

You hummed, pulling your fingers out to gaze at his gaping hole, the rim twitching and pulsing, so beautifully red from you. The beads you picked were simple, the black silicone started small and grew in scale, balls much harder than the usual ones, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Good,” you praised him, holding the first ball to his ass, “Good boy.”

The first ones slid in quickly, both the foreplay and absurd amount of lube helping until you hit the last two, having to gently push them in while you sang praises to him. With the beads inside him, you massaged the oblong base, looking fondly at his arched back and rutting hips, grinding his cock against your bedsheets. Satisfied with his debauched being, the once boisterous and head-strong Johnny Mactavish reduced to a moaning, drooling and pleading slut for you, you reached for the remote on your side and flicked the switch.

He yelped, his whole body jumping forward, cursing out your name and “please”s. You knew he wanted to cum, you could see it, and you were a merciful lover. He’d been a good, listening to you and eager for more, so you rewarded him. You reached under him, hovering over his rutting figure and gripped the base of his cock, sliding down to his leaky tip and jerking back up to smear his pre around his girth. You held his hips and pumped his cock, thumb pressing down his his sensitive slit and pulled his foreskin back and forth with every twist of your wrist.

Feeling both your hand around his cock and the strong vibration of the beads pressing against his prostate, Johnny came quickly, panting and drooling as he slumped on the bed. He swore out a wet groan, eyes still rolled back.

“You did good,” you ran your fingers through his hair, a relaxing and affectionate act, “Fucking amazing, Johnny.”

You were already regretting coming to the gala with him. Despite his pretty face an bemused expression, you recognised that mischievous gleam in his eyes, the playful shine in his beautiful eyes, as blue as the clearest skies. If you hadn’t fallen for his bright and joyful personality, his pretty blues would have sold you the moment your eyes met. And as much as you loved Dick in all his regale, you were seconds away from pulling him away from the fundraiser and find a secluded room in the rented building.

Unfortunately, Dick wouldn’t let you, he was having too much fun with your quivering knees and clinging hands, holding onto him, curved into the slim of his waist when your knees became too weak to support you. It was that, and the cooing couples of old men and women that came and commented on you two —the sight of The Dick Grayson pampering his anxious girlfriend. It had garnered so much attention, both awed and fond from people around you, if not that, then the green glares of women.

“Let’s find a seat, ” you could hear the teasing undertone of his gentle words and the warmth of his palm through the thin fabric of your dress.

You naively assumed it would help, but sitting down only pushed the toy deeper, driving it against your back wall and pressing on your swollen and sensitive clit. You tensed under Dick’s watchful eyes, his blues narrowed and lips curled in mirth, a threat danced on the tip of his silver tongue. You glared at him, fearful to look down and see a wet patch settling on the the cloth.

He leaned in, his curly locks falling over his shadowed brows, your eyes followed every micro expression, from his excitement to his pink tongue wetting his lips. The couple across from you spoke in hushed tones, swooning at Bruce Wayne’s eldest affection for you. You swore you could hear them coo and awe if it weren’t for the sudden jolt in intensity, the strong hum against your nub and the vibration shaking your whole body. You bit down on your lip, almost failing to choke down a moan.

Your walls clenched around the blue bunny, trying to milk it like it would with Dick’s cock, but the toy was too small and smooth. And despite it all, you were on the edge of cumming, your abdomen tense and face flushed beyond normalcy. Your hips subtly rocked back and forth, rolls small enough to be unperceived by untrained eyes, but easily caught for people like your boyfriend, his brothers and father. You panted, reaching the peak of your orgasm. You were so, so close-

“Hold it,” he whispered into your ear, his burning breath brushing down your neck, “You can come when we’re home, until then, hold it.”

You nodded, lashes fluttering as you bit down a whimper. Hi hand gripped your thigh so tauntingly, hard and eager.

“Good girl,” Dick pressed a sly kiss to your flushed cheek.

You shuddered, breath hitching at the strong pulse between your legs. You sat still, ordered to stay still - obediently unmoving - on his lap while he worked, signing off papers and documents. You struggled to do as he asked, the once glorious and mind-numbing pleasure he drowned you in had simmered, letting disgust and anger to reroot itself in your mind.

Your body ached, your limbs burned form the constant use, throat hoarse from taking his cock whole, your neck and shoulder aching from all the bites and marks, and your pussy dry and sensitive despite it drooling and throbbing around Price’s cock. You hated how reliant you’d become on him, your freedom and independence thrown out the window when he named you his. Your skills and efforts - your being as a whole - pushed down to be his little toy for him to use and throw away when he was done for the day.

A pet. That was what you now were. It was degrading and dehumanising, but what else could you do when he was both bigger and stronger than you. He was a bear in comparison to your stature. However tall or built, you weren’t trained or roughed up through experience and battle. If you were a step ahead, his paranoia forced him to think ten feet ahead.

And how could you fight him when he had you speared on his cock, the big and veiny girth stretching your walls painfully wide. He throbbed and pulsed, kicking in occasional spikes of pleasure. The slightest shift of your hips would force his cock deeper, the bulbous tip nudging your bruised and stinging cervix, smearing his leaky pre, thick and salty.

“Stop moving,” he huffed, hips thrusting up in retaliation, giving you a punishing pump that choked out your mewl.

It hurt, but it wouldn’t matter for him. The threat of his mouth looming over your shoulder, his breath scorching and teeth sharp, weapons used against your body much like he used his hands and cock on you. They stung, but nothing as much as his angry tone and harsh words, spoken along the lines of bite mars and purple and swollen kisses on your skin. His lips painted you in bruising colours and teeth indentations, red and swollen, shy from breaking skin; while his cock filled your womb with thick loads of cum, drowning the linings of your cunt in white, and covering you in the occasional spurt in a sudden act of possessiveness, much like a dog pissing on its territory.

You hated this. You hated him, but there wasn’t much you could do except obey to protect yourself from further harm.

The second it was brought up, Kyle acted on it, taking his merry time to stretch you out. You squirmed and whined, hips bouncing back against his cock as he prepped you. Your cunt sputtered around his lean girth, the clean-cut trim soaked in your slick and pretty tip leaking pre. His fingers pumped into your ass, stretching the rim with two lubed fingers, the wet squelch putting your drooling cunt to shame.

You groaned, walls clenching around him, urging him to hurry, hips rocking back and forth despite his warning:

“Darling, I need to stretch you out.”

You mumbled lowly, whining about him taking his tie and teasing you when it was his idea. He only chuckled, patting your ass with his other hand, soft enough to be calming, yet hard enough to sting just a bit. He pushed a third finger in and hummed, spreading them wide as he watched your gaping ass and swollen vulva, both tightening in such a tempting manner. He curled his fingers, tapping against the thin walls separating his girth and fingers.

With a forth finger in, gazing at your ass eagerly swallowing him, he called you his pretty slut, praising you with his dulcet tone as much as he degraded you to his slut —his sweet whore. There was such a dichotomy around the softness of Kyle’s voice and his words, the oddly giddy way it made you leak and shudder, moan and cant your hips.

“All right. All right,” Kyle huffed a laugh, his lean digits slipping out of your ass, “My pretty, little slut.“

You whined at the loss of him, feeling less full until a thick silicone pressed against your rim. A shuddering breath left your lips as it pushed in, the many ridges of the dildo hooking one at a time and stretched you out. Slumping forward, your back arched and rutted back, feeling every ridge and bumps and soft veins of both cocks sinking deeper into you.

He moaned when it bottomed out, the flared base helping him keep a strong hold on the toy as he pushed it back and forth, driving his hips and engorged cock into you with eager ruts. He took it slow, a steady and gentle pace, hearing you cry out for him at every name he called you before it grew in speed, snapping roughly and groaning when you tightened around him. His skin slapped wetly, lube and slick smearing across his navel and down his thighs, balls hitting your sensitive clit.

With a push of his girth, he pulled the dildo out, then alternated it, never leaving you empty for long as you fucked back. The sporadic way he moved made your cunt flutter, walls of each hole tightening, gripping him in a vice. You tethered on the edge of an orgasm, voice dying under a choked sob, spasming around him. Kyle threw his head back, rabbiting into you with a shaky pace and stuttering pants, his hold on your waist near bruising.

With a few more thrusts, gasping and arm aching, he threw the toy away and pushed himself as deeply as he could, slumping down as his cock throbbed, veins pulsing and twitching as he came in a heavy gush. Cum spurted out of his flushed tip, coating your walls with a thick glaze of white, heady seed. He rocked his hips, riding out both your high before he slid out, pulling you to his chest to lay away from the wet spot.

You gasped on his cock, choking on him when he bit you thigh, the stinging bringing tears to your eyes. Lash fluttering, you fought them back to concentrate on him, tongue flattening against the base of his cock, feeling the pulse of his veins. He was heavy on your tongue, the uncut head of it lodging itself deeply and stretching the back of your throat to accommodate him.

It would twitch when you swallowed, throat closing around the head, tightening as you bobbed your head. The sprawling veins under his shaft would throb, pumping arousal-filled blood from the base to his flushed tip. You could feel every shudder and spasm, the taste of him, the smell of his musk, and the bitterness of his pre on your tongue. It made your body burn, your core warm and cunt drool, leaking slick down Simon’s nose as his mouth latched onto the source of it.

His body always ran hotter than yours or the temperature around you, the pounds of muscle and fat caging the natural fire raging inside until it scorched everyone around him, but his mouth, the source of blunt pessimism and sarcastic remarks, seemed hotter than the rest of his body. His tongue an extension of his skill, finding your clit and circling around it, the rounded tip pushing down the hood of your nub to play with your swollen nerve. He rolled it around before he dipped down the curve of your crotch, pressing your soaked vulvas apart and eating you out, driving into you with unrestrained want.

If you weren’t moaned before, you were mewling now, rutting your hips against his face and throat erratically closing around him. Your whines ran across your body in shudders, breath stuttering and throat shaking, vibrating down his length. You’d moved so much that Simon had to hold you still, his big, rough and scarred palms gripping the fat of your hips and thighs to keep you from moving away.

“Si,” you sobbed, leaving his cock with a wet and lewd pop that somehow echoed throughout your bedroom, “Ple-please, I wanna come.”

His chuckled rumbled through you, from your sensitive clit to your cock-drunk head, but all he deigned you with was a fierce bite on your other thigh, silently commanding your obedience.

“Suck me off and I’ll make you come,” he growled when all you did was nuzzle his trimmed base (he wanted to trim it more, but the sight of your naked body crossing the living-room made him forget the wild frills that grew out).

Lips wrapping around the head of his cock, you suckled on it, swallowing him inch by agonising inch until he bottomed out in your throat, your nose sniffing his heady balls. Holding onto his legs, your eyes fluttered shut as you bobbed your head, wanting to make him come so that you could come.

“Good pet.”

You preened at his praise, your head moving at the pace of his tongue pumping into you and the finger rolling and pinching your nub. You were determined, mind set on a path and soon enough, you could feel his cock throb, hips thrusting up as he chased his orgasm. You could taste the incoming cum, the tang that overpowered the bitterness of his pre.

And when he came, it came in thick spurts, coating the back of your throat and filling your stomach with a heaviness that only he brought. You drank it all, swallowing his load as he pulled your being apart, pussy squirting down his mouth and soaking him in slick. Riding out both your orgasms, you ground your hips down as he drove up, pushing all his cum down your throat.

Popping you off his cock, Simon moved you around to his side, arm wrapping around you. Nuzzled to his side, he’d watch over you and bathe you afterwards.

Whimpering loudly, blind and unable to move under his wandering hands, the rough and scarred pads of fingers trailing lines down your body. You jerked when his hot palms closed around your neck, your throat bobbing against it in fear, trepidation coating your skin in a light sheen of sweat. Wrapped around your little throat, his hands spasmed, feeling the bobs and gulps and twitchs of your breathing, and you could every moment of it.

Tied and blindfolded, you were left in the dark, your other senses going on overdrive to compensate for the loss of your visual information. You could smell everything, the sweat on you and the musk and cologne on your captor’s body, the crisp leather of your binds and the staleness of your mattress. You couldn’t see, but you could feel, and it was so, so, so sensitive, your nerves thrown into a smoldering fire of hypersensitivity. It made everything so apparent. The small groves of his blunt nails, the wideness of his palms and the bumpy and risen lines of his scars.

Simon’s touch was soft, but it all felt like sandpaper on your smooth skin. Down your shoulder to play with your nipples, erect from the cool and damp air of the basement. He pinched and pulled, rolling it under his thumbs before he made you yelp with the burning warmth of his mouth on your nipple. his teeth teased it, closing around the girth until it hurt just enough for you to cry out struggling against the bonds that kept your wrists tied to your ankles. He suckled on it like a newly born would, but with teeth and more skill while his digits continued down your waist and curved down the tuff of hair.

You shook your head, tears wetting your blindfold at the slick that ran down your ass. Your mind reeled at the betrayal of your body, finding pleasure from his hands and mouth despite the goosebumps that ran across your skin, hair risen and frantic panic-striken conscious. You screamed and hissed at him until you lost your breath, gasping and sobbing as you moved your hips around to evade his invading lips. Simon let you, chuckling at your struggle, but he eventually got enough, gripping your thighs with a bruising hold, keeping you still to his hungry mouth.

He drooled on your clit, tongue lapping at your engorged nerve, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue. Pushing the hood up, his lips closed around it, sucking loudly, praising you for your taste and feel. You felt him turn, pressing his teeth to your inner thigh, leaving little bites up and down it, marks on both legs in a possessive haze. he hummed and nodded, nuzzling your drool covered muscle before he dove back in, tongue plunged deep inside of you instead.

You jumped, back arching as best as you could in your awkward bonds, the sudden thrust of his tongue pulling out a yelp from your bitten lips. His mouth was as skilled as the fingers on your clit, thumb pushed against it as he buried his face down your crotch, nose parting your vulva. The invading muscle was much more lithe than you’d ever expected, twisting inside of you and pressing down your back wall as he pinched your clit.

You felt every scorching breath and the vibration of his groans, his fingers and his tongue, everything only added to the growing reluctance of your orgasm. It mounted high until you crashed down, falling off with a cry, spasming and twitching under him, mewling and whining. His grip still held, only letting you enough space to grind your clit on his nose as he drank you cum, groaning at the taste of you rolling down his throat. He drank and drank until you ran dry, wailing in oversensitivity.

“Good pet,” he growled out, lips smacking with a lewd pop at your still squirming form.

“Oh, sweet omega,” Valeria cooed, her voice a soft growl as she stared down at you

You looked so pretty under him, mouth parted and eyes rolled back, clinging onto her with your sighs of pleasure leaving in loud puffs of pleasured moans. You were a beauty, a sight for sore eyes, gleaming so brightly like a diamond and she didn’t mind becoming blind if she could keep staring at you.

“My good mega,” she crooned, bending down to press her lips to your cheek.

She let his hands wander, fingers caressing down your jaw that she held so reverently as she kissed you deeply, lips meeting yours with gentleness. You moaned into her, your body shuddering at the feel of body, the warmth of her and the familiar scent that oozed off her in waves, unending and strong. The spicy and musky scent compelled you to hold her, fingers running through her silken locks. You pulled and tugged with every mewl, tongue meeting hers halfway in a hungry dance.

Lips locked and tongues dancing, you arched into her, pushing your sweat-coated body to her hot one. She held you down by the hips, slotting her thigh between yours and helped you grind her hard and muscled leg, painting her in a glistening line of slick. Your cunt leaked like faucet, slick rolling down your ass from the sheer amount of pleasure her scent and being brought you, and in turn, your glands exploded in pheromones.

The sweet and sugary smell from your designation that just screamed at her the same way you called for her, voice broken between little gasps and low moans. Rutting against her leg, without her help now that your mind was clouded by her as a whole, parting ways to plead with her.

“Be good, Chiquitita,” she grinned, those pearly fangs shining white.

You trembled, breath stuttering at the sight of it, throat throbbing and itching for her to sink her teeth once more. Mewling, your thoughts turned to acts, head thrown back with a small ‘Alpha’, neck bared and vulnerable under he hungry gaze. She let out a rumbling growl, satisfaction rolling off her as she leaned down, kissing you softly.

Down your jaw and the crook of your throat, she teased you while your hips stuttered,cunt clenching around nothing. Her teeth fleetingly brushed the marked skin of your neck, your head tilted to the side to show her the mark —her mating mark placed proudly on your nape.

She hummed, the grip on your hips tightening, but never restrictive of your movement, mumbling out praises along her pecks. Your lash fluttered, a content sigh that turned to a loud keen when she bit down, your body tensing as arousal swirled around in your core. Knotted in the deepest part of you, you came from the explosive feel of it, walls spasming and cunt closing around air, wetting her thigh in both slick and cum.

“Oh, did you cum, mega?”

Kneeling between his legs, thighs spread and pants hanging from his ankles, you smiled up at him, lips moving against his relaxed thigh.

“Rudy,” you mouthed his skin, teeth grazing his tensing thigh, “You’re so beautiful.”

Your thumbs drew circles, caressing him with soft touches and a pleased smile. Lips trailing higher and higher, leaving fleeting kisses along the way, the dark red of your crimson gloss staining his skin in red. Eyes glued to his face, always observant of his reactions, you watch him inhale shakily, lashes fluttering and sights stuck on the red lips on his right thigh, then his left when you switched sides to do the same: pressing your soft and velvet lips to his skin as if he was a thing to worship.

Despite all his scars and his smiles, Rudolfo was a person to cherish, a man with many smiles and expressions —a hardworking man who’d prefer hiding behind a smile than share his heartache. And that where you came in, a caring lover and a emotionally dependable friend. You knew his ticks and twitch, even the smallest of awkward smiles meant different things and you just knew.

Perhaps that was why you figured that the easiest way to make him relax was to get your hands - and mouth - on him, to kiss him, to embrace him, to fuck him, and to love him. Every praise, every loving touch, every glance and every kiss was your way to empower him, to remind him of who he was underneath his uniform.

“My handsome Rudy,” you nosed your way to his cock, hard and straining under your attention, head leaking pre, “Strong, dependable, gentle-”

You kissed the base of his throbbing length, mouth open and tongue lolling out to lave at it, running up the base to his flushed tip, a dusty red against the golden bronze of his skin. Mouth closing around it, you dived down, swallowing his cock whole, from tip to base, nose buried in the prettily trimmed pubes, before you bobbed your head, lingering on the head to tease it with your dancing tongue and going back down.

You watched with glee as his demeanor softened: back subtly slouching, thighs spread wider and head rolled back with his mouth parted. He groaned, lips wet and fingers grasping at the bedsheet. You hummed, the vibration of your sound shaking through him, hips thrusting up before he fell into a spew of apologies.

Hands cupping his balls, you fondled with it, gleefuly gazing at his trembling figure, stuttering hips and loud pants. He was so close to coming, mere inches away from tumbling down the edge, all he needed was an incentive. Tongue pressed flat to the bulging and sensitive vein under him, humming and throat closing around his twitching head, he came with a cry.

His body wracked in full shudders, hips thrusting against your mouth, cum spurting out of his slit. You drank down every drop, the slightly bitter tang of his load heavily coating the linings of your throat and weighing warmly in your stomach. Cleaning the last of his load, you left his softening cock with a lewd and wet pop, a bright smile returning his relaxed half grin:

“-and perfect.”

You woke up with thinned breaths, back pressed against something big and warm, skin pulled taunt and sweaty in the cool autumn air. You huffed, squirming away from the furnace that pressed itself against you. You were hot, wet and aching, sticky with perspiration from head to toe, glistening under the low, moon light through the open window and uncomfortable.

Your eyes cracked open at a quiet grunt, blinking quickly to clear your blurry vision, you mumbled a croaky “what” at the rush of pain and pleasure rushing through you. Despite your many blinks, your vision stayed blurry, body shifting up and down on your bed and panting loudly. You mewled meekly, looking down, but all you could see was a thick mass of muscle, fat and bulging veins. Then it hit you, your mind cleared slowly and you connected the dots, remembering the little talk you had with Simon months ago.

“Mornin’, lovie,” the owner of the arm rasped, his breath brushing your ear.

You groaned out your greeting, toes curling at the sudden thrust, rocking you forward. Choking back a scream, you heard him shuffle, the arm around your throat tightening and pulled your head closer to his, nestled under his chin and body arched out. Locked in a chokehold, his big and bulging arm curled around your neck, Simon had you completely caged.

Throat bobbing with every shallow breath, tits bouncing with every hard thrust and hips rocking back into him, chasing your pleasure as best as you could with your leg hanging off his other arm, you cried out his name. You clenched around him, his cock pushing into your drooling cunt with a constant and strong pace. You always marveled at his strength, easily wooed by how strong he was, but his strong initiative about fucking you while you slept surprised you. Taking your breath away in both figurative and literal way, shaking your whole being with a few sharp drive, grunts pushed out of him with a gravelly tone. it made your core knot, rapture boiling within you.

“Thought I’d surprise you,” he chuckled, words coming out much easier than your moans, full and panting.

You loved him, truly, with how willing he was with pleasing you. From how soft and caring to hard and mean he could get, from the pulsing veins running down his cock to his thick base, and from the patch of hair on his navel to the soft padding of fat on his abdomen, you loved his every scar and every memory. Something you always told him when you shared a vividly, hot moment in bed, entangled in each other’s arms and inches away from bursting, but all that left your lips were gasps and moans, and the occasional groans driven out of you with a deep, oscilating pump, the bulbous head of his girth kissing your cervix.

“Oh, lovie,” he cooed, his deep voice coming out as a rumbling sound, riling you up further, “You want to come, huh?”

You did your best to nod, and he laughed at it, the desperate way your head moved in his tight hold, silently pleading with him to let you come. He hummed and tightened his hold, stealing more of your breath away as he hit deeper and harder, thrusts sharp and precise, brushing past a sensitive spot before the leaky tip pressed into the gummy entrance of your womb.

Your nails sunk into his forearm, keening airily, hand sliding down to rub your swollen clit at the same pace as his thrusts, and with a few more bucks, you came. Head thrown back over his shoulder, slipping out from under his chin, he curled around you, rabbiting into you to chase both your orgasms, cum spurting from his throbbing cock. Grinding to a slow and steady roll of his hips, he rode it out as he peppered your cheek in loving kisses, painting your womb white with his load.

Arms growing slack, they eventually found their place over your waist. Both tired and satisfied, you naturally slumped into each other, slotting perfectly together like two pieces of a puzzle.

“Surprise, indeed.”

Simon laughed.

Miguel had been doused in gas on his run, this anomaly of Doc Ock had been equipped with a variety of gas canisters, each having a different colour and effect. It was an annoyingly long fight to trap her and send her back, needing both Jess and you to join him to finish her up, but not before he breathed in pink gas. And as usual, Miguel waved it off, shrugging away any fear of it affecting him on the basis of his different anatomy.

He might have believed his body to be stronger, untouched by his quick healing and enhanced body, unlike the others who voiced their concern. Miguel was confident, promising to check himself at the labs after he read through the reports and went through damage control. You and Jess trusted him, and Peter believed Miguel had it handled, so the three of you went on your own way around the HQ, working through business until Lyla popped up, hands moving around frantically at you. All you got from it was “Miguel” and “help”, leaving you three to rush back to his side in his man cave.

You found him slumped over the console, body slick with perspiration as he panted loudly, a certain haze clouding his red eyes. It was heavy with hunger, turning his blood-red eyes into a dark crimson, tainted with something seedy. He jumped you the moment you reached the high platform, his nose twitching as if to scent you. He loomed, crawling over you with the piercing sound of his claws, huffing and groaning at you. Miguel reacted positively to you, forcing Jess and Peter to leave when he growled at their approaching figures, reacting to their presence like a threatened animal. You all knew how dangerous cornered animals were, having seen your fair share of it in your own universe.

The moment the doors locked behind them, Miguel felt like a completely different person, growing as aggressive as he was desperate, tearing into your suit with his sharp nails. Naked and fearful, you struggled uselessly under him, powerless against a man as big and strong as him. He tore through all your defenses, bending you over his console while you clawed at him. You fought and fought, even as his fingers pumped into you, long and thick columns that dug into your gummy walls and curled, forcing mewls out of you.

He made you come twice over before he fucked you, salivating on your shoulder, fangs brushing your nape. Despite his needs, rutting his tent against your ass, his blazing body curled around you, he made sure you were stretched enough for him, you slick cunt taking four fingers before he stuffed you with him. Arched back with his girth buried to the hilt, he rabbited with reckless abandon, unable to hold a constant pace.

He sunk into you with heavy pants, never leaving the warmth of your drooling cunt before he snapped his hips, growls reverberation around the hollowed room. Miguel went from fast and shallow thrusts, to deep and hard rams, your hips bucking back in sheer loss of consciousness, mind hazed over by oscillation of his hips, the pleasure of his thick and veiny cock kissing your cervix and the bruising hold of his hands and lips, dyeing your skin red and blue.

You couldn’t remember how many times you gushed around him, growing sensitive over the unchecked hours, time slipping through the gaps of your fingers. You couldn’t even keep track of the times Miguel came, hot cum spurting from his perpetually hard cock, blood still pumping up his cock to feed it. You were sure you were bulging at this point, with the amount of cum he filled your womb with, but your eyes weren’t working, too blurry with how tearfully wet they were. You were rendered blind and twitching from oversensitivity, all at the behest and mercy of a still very horny Miguel O’Hara.

Never, never again were you going to leave Miguel unchecked after being hit by anything.

Lost in the maze-like building, corridors looping into another, halls leading to a dead end and unending paths that seemed to go on and on and on. They lived in a haunting atmosphere: rotting wood and chipped wallpaper lit up by the dying and blinking lights of the theater, the eerie feeling that accompanied a once populated area, once bright and lively with people young and old coming here for the cinema or the arcade to enjoy their afternoons or weekend. And now, it was left forgotten, to rust and to die, the epitome of fun thrown behind for something more personal and advanced.

You didn’t know how anyone could leave a place like this standing —or better yet, how could a place get this bad? riddled with rats and insects, termite-infested pillars and caved in floors, even the metal plumbing of the building wasn’t left untouched by age and dilapidation. For a one room-cinema, this place was as big as it was confusing. You got lost many, many times, stumbling back into the same corridor over and over again despite your best effort to keep track of your path.

It didn’t help that you could hear something crawling around the building, the tell-tale sound of many footsteps echoing throughout the building and making the floor creak, wood denting under the weight of whoever it was and mumbling in broke English. You could only panic in abject horror at the unknown source of it, running aimlessly for an escape, but even then, the streets - if it could be called one with the area fenced in - had the same ghostly abandonment of the building. It wasn’t as bright or rusted, but the lamp posts were dying, light flickering and eventually dying.

It left you wandering aimlessly until you stumbled into the thing you were hiding from —or rather it, whatever it was. A broken, humanoid creature chased after you, limbs bent in horrible ways, stomach bulging and face horrifying to see, deformed and bloody, much like the axe he was holding. It - he? - truly gave you a reason to fear, a reason to run for your life as he chased you, following loosely on your tail without actually catching you. You wondered if he was playing with you, working you up until he was satisfied enough to kill you —would he eat you? He certainly looked monstrous enough to want to eat someone.

He gave you a reason to believe you were doomed, and now, especially hen he had you in his reach, pushed against the wall. You were stuck between a rock and a hard place, in every possible sense with the axe plunged into the plaster beside your face. Oh, how you wished you were wrong about him eating you, cursing yourself for ending up here, stuck under his mouth, drool rolling down his wrinkled chin as he tore into you.

You fought until you couldn’t, screamed until your voice died and cried until you ran out of it, all under the broken words he groaned, ripping into your clothes and salivating. You couldn’t do much as he held your arms and legs, his lanky arms deceiving his actual strength. Arched awkwardly against the walls, your shuddered in disgust at the writhing arms that reach out of his back, pink and slimy tentacles prodding at you.

You retched at the feel of them, sliding between your folds and smearing his slime all over you. You were happy that you wouldn’t be killed, but this wasn’t what you meant by being eaten, and certainly not by a monster like him, but there wasn’t anything you could do but take it. Spread open and fucked dumb by a monster twice your size, his wet limbs sinking into your cunt, drive wet and sensitive by the odd warmth of his slime.

“Tight… ” he groaned out, his voice a mix of many voices, like a broken radio, “Sweet pet.”

You felt beyond stuffed, your stomach bulging out with different bumps, writhing within you as he pumped you full. Despite your utter disgust, he somehow made you come, the many arms thrusting into you at an erratic pace, never leaving you empty for more than a fraction of a second. They were smooth and bumpy, made slick by your cum and his slime, and all but one was pointy-tipped and thick at the base, the big one had a flared tip, a rounded head that looked like a flower bulb. It stood out among the rest for some reason.

Unfortunately, you weren’t left wondering about it for long, feeling all the tentacles slipping out of you with wet pops, but not before tickling your bruised cervix. You watched through clouded eyes at the flared cock, popping it’s head into you and driving in until it bumped the mouth of your womb, the knotted base inches away from you. It was numbed and relaxed by whatever substance his tentacles secreted, and - shockingly - opened up for him after a sharp ram, forcing it’s way into your untouched womb.

“What?!“ you yelped, not in pain, but from jaw-dropping stupefaction at what just happened.

It felt like a pinch, small and painless, even as it sunk deeper, the peals of his head opening up inside and his knot pushing past your vulva. His slime acted as a numbing aphrodisiac. Plugged and restrained, you mewled at the bumps pushing into you, round objects popping out of his cock and plopping into your womb, sticking to the walls without too much effort. You babbled endlessly, body trembling under him, cunt fluttering around his length as he filled you up with eggs, the amount lost to your drunk mind. All you knew was that you weren’t leaving any time soon —or move, at this point.

“Mine,” was the last thing you heard before passing out, the comforting embrace of darkness draping you in sleep.

Excitement pumped through your body at tonight’s prospects. Friday night was often a promising night, clients coming in from every corner of the city to blow off some steam and searching for some nice relaxation. Having worked here for a while, you knew how it went and you had absolutely no issue with it, but one rule you absolutely stuck to was wearing condoms for your own safety. Your client came and went, your number stuck above the hole you called home.

Your night started off with prepping yourself, steadily stretching your cunt open with your fingers before you moved onto your ass, spreading your flushed rim around your digits and slipping a plug in to hold it open. Everyone had their own ritual, and yours was practiced with reverence to keep you both comfortable and satisfied. You only took your place after it, keeping a bottle of lube, a few toys and water beside and within range of you.

Ass out and feet dangling off the soft fabric of the sanitised bed, you patiently waited for someone to stumble in, either drunk or sober, they would all be hungry for something, and you weren’t disappointed. A pair of rough hands gripped your hips, tented fabric grinding into you with slow oscillations, jostling you with every sweet motion. His fingers were course, pads hardened by work, but his hold was soft and gentle, warming your glistening skin with a soothing feel.

Even as he fucked you, rocking your post with his deep thrust and sweet moans, the heat of cock could be felt through the thin condom. His hips moved with a steady pace, careful to not harm you, and made you orgasm, your cum flying down his balls after he finished. Patting your cheek with praising slaps, you moved onto your second client, the first one was a great start for the evening.

The second one was more desperate, rabbiting into you with quick successions of ruts, whorish and shamelessly loud with his sweet voice. His girth was heavier than the first and without it’s curve, but it was thicker, stretching you wider and somehow managing to fleetingly kiss your cervix. He filled you out really well with the occasional veins stroking the sensitive membrane of your pussy, slowly pushing you higher towards your climax.

But he was quick to come in his condom, forcing a whine out of you when he pulled out, only to stuff you with his fingers, his raspy tone mumbling out praises with that oddly familiar accent. Thumb rolling your swollen clit and fingers pumping into you, you quickly reached your second high, cunt clenching down on his fingers. Before he left, the man gave you a few words, and your third one came in.

He was far more daring than the others, carefully pulling the plug out of you, a deep rumble asking for lube to prep you further. You found yourself grinding back against his hand, listening to wet spurts as he fed you his fingers and then finally his cock. He was big and warm, breaching you with less ease than the first ones, but still as pleasurable. With a lewd pop, his head sunk in, followed by the rest of his length, and before you knew it, you were being fucked an inch away from life.

Mewling and clawing at your bedding, you pushed back, chasing the hard and rough pace that brought you mind-numbing pleasure. You surprisingly came untouched, clenching around nothing while he drove in and out, sliding out to his tip and slammed in with a quick tilt of his hip. His speed and strength only wavered after he flooded his condom with cum, soothing you with his gloved thumb as he pulled out, gifting you a short chuckle.

And he left, leaving you to welcome your fourth client. By the end of the night, you would have flushed by how loud and wet you were, if you weren’t so horny.

Tonight felt just like yesterday —like any other day. It was still as warm as the prior week, a small breeze and a cloudy sky. You were bored by the same repetitive day: the same show, the same channel, the same news, the same bird song and the same bottle of wine. You wanted some change, even the slightest would be better than this constant drone, but there wasn’t much that could happen in a small town like Roseville who only had a community college.

Nursing a glass of wine, you watched on as the news presenter moved on from some local affair to the most recent attack. That’s right, there was at least one exciting change in Roseville. Swirling your drink, eyes never straying from the censored sights of the murder scene, deemed too gruesome for regular spectators. They did their best, you gave them that, but you could already imagine the scene in your mind with how much blood there was. Red was splattered everywhere, Ghostface left no rocks unturned and no surface untouched.

You’d applaud him for striking so much fear through all his attention garnering, ut he was taking lives, killing off the innocent and naive —except those two karens he butchered, he probably hated them as much as everyone else did. No one was safe and it worried if you were n-

ring ring

It read UNKNOWN CALLER. You were warned about answering calls from strangers, but you were so bored out of your mind that your thumb moved without a second thought.

“Hi?” your voice shook slightly, you didn’t know if it trembled from fear, excitement, or both.

“Hello,” whoever it was had a raspy voice, you could hear the deep and threatening tone even with the distorting voice box.

You froze up, recognising the familiar coincidence between all the prior victims from Roseville and back. The phone call from and unknown caller. You bite your lip, swallowing the hard rock at the back of your throat and placed down your glass. Your thumb hovered over the ‘end call’ button, terror swirling in your guts at the thought of having your guts cut open in such a viscous way.

“Don’t you dare hang up,” Ghostface growled, spitting out his words with such hate that you almost flinched, “I’ll know- I’ll know if you do.”

You gulped mutedly, eyes peering out the window to your left. It was a dark night, the moon giving too little light to see well. You lived just beside a forest, your backyard opening to the woods, and a perfect place to hide and stalk.

“How?” you tempted fate by asking him.

“How? You already known, babe,” he cackled lowly, and you saw movement right outside your window, “You’re staring right at me.”

You could hear him huff and and puff, breathing loudly into the speaker of his phone.

“Fuck- that expression of yours- ” he moaned out, followed by sounds of slick, leather sliding down something wet and fleshy, “It drives me wild.”

You laughed, a big smile lifting the corners of your lips as you broke character, head thrown back at the hilarious situation you found yourself in. You slumped into your couch, body relaxing with your head rolling back to openly stare out the backyard. Right there, between the opening of two bushes, you caught your little ghost gazing back at you. Crouched under the darkness, legs spread open and zipper opened, you watched him jerk himself.

“Couldn’t wait, could you, Ghostie?” you chortled, eyes gleaming hotly despite the distance between you making it too dark and blurry to see anything clearly, “Got this hard from killing someone.”

He only hummed, the lewd squelch getting louder with every pump, hand sinking down his length as he chased his pleasure. If you squinted, you could almost see how wet his cock was, glistening under what little moon light creeped past the leaves and branches.

“You’re a fucking whore, you know?”

Ghostface groaned lowly but disagreed with you with a shaky voice.

“Oh, you poor thing, ” you crooned, “Tell me why I can see your pretty cock leaking from here. You just couldn’t wait, huh?”

He mumbled something, words mixed together as he tried to explain, but he was too lost in pleasure to reply correctly. You saw his legs twitch, and heard his breath stuttering. He fell back, thighs spread as wide as he could as he fucked into his hand, calling out your name in a broken voice through the speaker.

“Stop.”

And he did, his hand stopping immediately with a whine, his body shaking in the darkness of your backyard, laying on his back and panting.

“Come back later and I might let you cum, you hear?”

He murmured a soft ‘okay’, collecting himself before he left, turning back to send you a kiss.

“I’ll know if you touch yourself, so don’t try, Danny.”

“Yeah, got it, ” he sighed wishfully, his figure growing smaller and smaller with every passing second, “See ya later, babe.”

Kyle had been nothing but very accommodating towards you during your cycle. You were cranky and moody, often reacting more emotionally than you’d usual be, and complained more than necessary about whatever came to mind. Be it the slow-acting ibuprofen you took, the sudden pangs of pain hitting you at odd moments, or your need for a warm heating pad. He took them all with stride, never whining or discouraged by you.

Rather, he was - as usual - warm and comforting, spending his days cuddling you on the bed or couch, bringing you snacks and reheated your pad when you asked for it. Kyle was the best boyfriend you could ever ask for, doing everything and anything within his capabilities to ease your pain and help you. From little acts like kisses on your cheek to making you a cup of hot chocolate, it made you fall deeper in love with him.

He’d mumbled about doing his research on menstruation: the cramps, the mood swings, the muscle aches and any way to alleviate it. Perhaps that’s why he suddenly walked up to you with the biggest and cheekiest smile you’d ever seen.

“I read that sex helps relieve cramp pains,” he muttered with practiced confidence, “Something about hormones- can’t remember the name.”

You had laughed at the idea, but welcomed it, happy to see and hear that he took the initiative to help you. Peppering you in kisses, thumb rubbing your soft and cramped tummy, you ate on his lap, feeding both him and you as he promised to do the best he could.

And at night, after you laughed at the thought of it, you were left gasping and writhing on your bed. Legs hanging off his shoulders and hands clinging to the protective sheet, you watched Kyle through fluttering lashes. You flushed at the red that stained his chin and hand, his smile unbelievably disarming and unbothered by all the blood. Despite Your initial hesitation and the slight pain that followed it, you could feel him stretch you open, his gentle and nimble fingers spreading your lips apart and curling right into our g-spot.

He poked and prodded at it, turning your mind into mush and your cramps into an afterthought. Your toes curled at the mounting pleasure, the knot coiling with every roll of your swollen clit and his thrusting digits, you cam with a cry. Back arching and body shuddering, you sobbed his name and fingers winding into his short locks. You didn’t know if you pulling him closer to your spasming cunt, clamping around his still pumping fingers, or push him away from your sensitive clit and squirting pussy, staining the pads and him in crimson.

Rising from his kneel, like an all-giving god, he smirked down at you, glee shining in his chocolate brown eyes . They were ever-so lively and curious, something you loved about him: how expressive his eyes were and how easy he was to love and understand.

“It works, huh?”

It was just a suggestion after Johnny found your little box of toys, his face flushed a pretty red and grinning like a over-excited puppy. Box in hand, he rushed towards you with his figurative tail wagging non-stop behind him. How could you tell him no when he’d been so gleeful? Jumping from the walls just for a taste of it, acting like the overzealous man he usual was with unrestrained joy and excitement.

And now, naked and shuddering under you, Johnny sat still - or so he tried - and let you have your go at him without a word of disagreement or rejection. Riffling through the dildos, vibrators and plugs you’d amassed over the years and kept in this box, you picked out the first cock ring you added to your collection. Silicone made, the band stretched to fit around any size and the bullet-sized pocket fitted with a small vibrator.

Battery changed and cock lubed, you gently rolled the ring down his length, fingers teasingly raking down the pulsing vein. It fit snugly around him, the transparent silicone snapping and staunching anymore blood from rushing past his base. You wouldn’t let him come too early, you had a whole evening planned for him to experience the cock ring you bought years ago.

You watched his eager face flush, expression screwed in pleasure when you turned the vibrator on, the loud buzz jolting him into low groans. You were leaking down you thighs at the mere sight of him, watching him stop himself from pumping his cock, knuckles turning white from how hard he was holding the bed sheets. Legs spread to show him how much he affected you, you trailed your hands down your chest, rolling your pebbled nipples and sliding down your navel, you sunk two fingers into your drooling hole under his hungry gaze.

You made a spectacle of yourself for him —for his eyes alone. Fucking yourself on your fingers, head thrown back with a moan and walls clenching around your fingers, you rolled your wet clit before you approached him. He was so pretty, his head flushed a deep red, leaking down his thick base and twitching with every vibration. He looked like he was on the brink of tears, gathering on his waterline and making his blue eyes so much brighter, pupils wide and mouth agape.

Somehow they dilated even wider when you crawled towards him, straddling his sensitive and needy cock, rocking your hips over his, the tip sliding up and down your slit, from your cunt to your nub. You felt every stutter, the strong buzz of the bullet, and finally sunk down, your walls stretched wide to welcome him. You dropped with a lewd pop, back arched with him hilt deep and twitching, but not coming, the tightness of the ring prevented him from spurting too soon.

Rising with the support of his shoulders, your rode him with wild abandon, uncaring about the mess you both made or the noise you were sure your neighbours would hear. Your calf burned from exhaustion, the same way your body strained to keep this pace up, the quick and hard rise and fall of your hips. You were a sweaty mess, tits swaying between you and nails digging into his shoulders, you threw your head back at the burning flames that licked at your core.

But if you were a mess, then Johnny was a chaotic bundle of wanton need, desperation and tears, red cheeks streaming and lips mouthing at your neck with pleads and moans, thrusting up and meeting you halfway to chase the orgasm you’d edged out of him.

“F- Please-” he gasped, hands grasping at the fat of your waist to rut deeper into you.

You smiled down at him, kissing his pearly tears away from that fell from his oversensitive and need to come. Taking mercy on him, you tugged on the silicone ring, loosening the clamp, but never stopped, still sliding own his now throbbing cock, jerking with the rush of cum. You let out a breathless grunt, sight dotted with white spots as pleasure rolled through you in waves, feeling Johnny fill you with hot, burning cum. Your knees buckled, strength leaving you, depending on him to ride out your orgasm, rabbiting until he became too sensitive.

“Can we try the strap, next time?”

You wheezed at his insatiable appetite and cheeky smirk, still panting and tired.

Miguel spent the whole week grumpy, grumbling under his voice about anything. From the stupidest things to the mind-breaking and confusing bio-engineering things. His moodiness seemed to affect everyone around him - more so than usual - with the slightest of mood swings and bouts of irritation striking through the other spiders. Like a hivemind of spider people, everyone reacted to each other similarly as a chemical reaction on a molecular base.

Fortunately for both them and Miguel, you knew of a way to relieve the tension, to help him ease up the dark cloud that hung over him. You’ve had enough spiders coming to you with rants and complaints about Miguel’s behaviour —even Peter scheduled a session with you just to talk about Miguel! So you took matters into your own hands, striding into his man cave, ordering Lyla to shut down every security camera in the room and locking the door behind her, putting up a “don’t disturb” announcement.

You cornered him there, pushing his massive body into the console of his desk. The claws of your suit raking down the protective shield of his suit, knee pushed between high thighs and lips mouthing away at the skin under his chin. You pushed his buttons, pressing and nudging until you had him dressed down to his suit’s shirt, his wide shoulders and sculpted abdomen slimming down to a slender waist and thick thighs. His cock hung between his leg, head swollen and slit leaking pre, gripping onto the metal of his support. His newly-pierced tip gleaming under the bright holographic sceens, the source of his behaviour: his prince albert piercing.

You grinned at the sound of metal bending under his claws, a mischievous gleam shining back to his red swirls, deep and hungry. Your hands slid down his shoulders, peppering the bushiness of his happy trail until your lips met the throbbing base of his length. Eyes never leaving his face, watching his progressively darkening expression as you gave his cock open-mouthed kisses, sloppily making out with the vein under it.

“Let me help you, Miguel,” your smile was viciously sweet, the softness of your tone deceptive, “Help you relax. I’m getting sick of hearing about your mood.”

Bracketed by his legs, hands holding up his twitching mass, you carefully handled the tip of it, knowing full well how sensitive he still was. Alternating between kissing and licking, you continued working your way to the tip, but not before nuzzling his heavy balls. Miguel threw his head back with a loud moan, feeling you care for him, lovingly pleasure him as if his cock and balls were your salvation. He could come at the mere sight of you on your knees, lips wrapped around his engorged head and worshiping him with your body.

Nimble fingers jerking what you couldn’t swallow, tightening and loosening your hold expertly to have him bucking into your throat. He could hear you gurgling him down, gagging when his cock hit the back of your throat, closing around him with a choking mewl. He knew he still ached from the procedure, the stinging hum of the metal a constant reminder even as you distracted him; and he knew you had a harder time taking him, but worked through it with masterful tactics, never once complaining about the pain.

Miguel flinched with a surprised groan when you fondled with his sac, rolling them between your fingers while you sucked and pumped him. You didn’t falter, pushing on with moans shaking through him and gags washing him in waves of pleasure. His knees felt weak, hips bucking into you, he was depending on the support of the mangled console that he recently fixed up for the same reason and your strength to keep him up.

“Joder- Mi Cielo, I’m cu-” he couldn’t get another word in before he came, drowning you in thick gushes of warm cum.

You spurted, nearly choking on it as you drank him down. You listened to him sigh out your name, watching his face soften from fluttering lashes, sight blurred with tears. You gave him a few more pumps before you pulled away with a wet pop, stray, white drops trickling down your chin. He wiped those away with a calloused thumb, eyes squinted with a rare moment of gentleness.

“Thank you, Mi Vida.”

You weren’t sure how you ended up in their apartment. You weren’t even sure how you - sober and anxious minded - accepted to eat supper with them in the house right across the hall from yours, the only other apartment on your floor. It’d been vacant for so long, the number falling off and plaque empty, having no one to rent, no less consider this run down building.

And now that it was lived in, rented under odd names by men you found even weirder as they were dangerous, their presence scratching an nervous spot in your mind that just screamed danger like the bright and red, flashing light —or major red flags. You knew that, and yet, you ended up at their dining table, past the roughed-up couch, the weapons strewn around the room, the musky atmosphere of the hallway and into the near empty kitchen; you sat squished between their broad shoulders and shakily sharing an unnamed box of chocolate Nikto placed on the table.

You shuffled in your seat a lot, too scared to reject the offering Nikto had mutely pushed towards you, one chocolate after another dropped into your palm and down your throat. Your neighbours only stared at you, neither commenting on your growing fidgeting, nor your flushed face, and you had chalked it up to stress. It couldn’t be any different, considering how your heart was beating faster, body warming and cheeks and ears heating up, they were all familiar signs of your body reacting to your heightened amount of stress.

“Are you all right?” Krueger - Sebastian he called himself - moved closer to you, tucking a fallen strand of hair over your ear, completely oblivious to social bubbles and boundaries.

“Ye-yeah…” you sighed, the subtle brush of his warm skin on yours relieving some unknown tension in your body, “ “m just feeling a bit hot, that’s all.”

Then you were pulled away from Krueger by rougher hands, grabbing your chin and forcing you to stare at him, your head heavy and clouded by something —a burning heat in your groins. He was so close to you, the tips of your nose touching, separated by a millimeter of air between your faces. How’d he move so quickly? And so quietly at that? not that you could’ve heard him at all, feeling groggy and tired, yet full of want.

You caught them share a glance, peering over your shoulder to stare at his roommate’s dark eyes, sharing a thought between them, and before you knew it, they moved in sink to wrap around you. Clothes torn away from you, your drunk and flaying arms doing little to dissuade them when they were laser-focused on doing one thing, and it seemed to be the one dreaded act you were afraid of from the start: fucking you.

Stripped and bound by a single and trained hand, your skin burned wherever their hands touched; under yours breasts, tweaking your nipples with harsh tugs and a mean laugh, bruising your hips with heavy palms, spreading your thighs with an unmoving hold and hungry mouths and fingers between your folds. You weren’t able to do much against them when your own body was betraying you, whatever was in the chocolate fueling the fire between your legs, slick leaking out of your empty cunt, but it didn’t stay empty too long.

Thick and course fingers, sinking into you, feeling the warm membrane of your pussy. He - whoever it was, you couldn’t see clearly with tear-brimmed eyes - curled upwards, pressing into a spongy spot that made you groan, toes curling and hips bucking into his palm.

“Eager, slut.”

His pumps were quick and hard, lasting only long enough to stretch you open so that one of them could fuck you dumb, your cunt spurting out slick and walls spasming until he pulled away. You whined at the loss of it, back arching to chase after the missing fingers, but quickly quieting at the sudden prod of something hard and wet. Blue, upside down eyes stared at you as Krueger - you could assume - slid his cock between your folds,the head nudging your clit and back down to your drooling cunt, he repeated it twice of thrice before the tip hooked in.

Krueger drove in to the hilt with a single thrust, his balls wetly slapping your ass from the strength behind his pumps. Your body jerked when he rammed in, shaking the couch under you three. You were a numb mess at this point, drooling and sweating, eyes tiredly blinking. Sleep called to you, the sweet, comforting lull of darkness a comfort for you-

You flinched awake after… Nikto slapped you, your cheek stinging from the hit. You blinked up at him speaking, grunting out his words with a raspy tone:

“Open.”

You were confused, mouth opened with a soft “huh?” and Nikto took it as an incentive to push his length down your throat, forcing his way deeper with the hard oscillation of his hips. You gagged, throat clamping down as you sputtered and choked out mewls, taken from both ends with cocks much bigger than you’d ever taken. Once again, you felt helpless, cursing yourself for stepping a foot in their apartment even as you felt them throb. Their pace matching a similar tempo of push and pull, pushed from one end and back to the other, slit leaking pre and veins pulsing.

You were sure from the way their groans grew louder with each thrust that they were nearing their orgasm, tethering on the edge of it. Krueger’s grip of your hips tightened painfully, and Nikto’s girth stole all and any breath away, leaving you starved for it in between thrusts. Then finally, rabbiting into you with few short bursts, they came, flooding you with thick and bitter cum. Krueger had dug himself as deep as he could and pumped you full on him, while Nikto left a cruel and bitter taste at the back of your throat, filling your stomach with white spurts.

You were definitely moving now. Fuck the landlord and fuck them.

You loved his suit. How it hugged his body in just the right way: around his broad shoulders and thick thighs, down his sculpted abdomen and slender waist, and up the muscled column of his neck, stopping short at his chin to show his devastatingly pretty face. He looked as perfect as he acted, jovial, warm and gentlemanly. You adored Nightwing more than any other could - as much as you loved Dick Grayson, of course - and Dick knew it.

He liked teasing you with it, casually walking around the living room of your shared apartment in his leotard, the striking blue splashed on his chest, sliding down the length of his defined arms and to his fingers, and shine of the fabric catching your eyes. You knew that he could feel your gaze sliding down his body, drooling shamelessly over your sexy boyfriend who was equally shameless with his wide strut, covered hands touching everything in his path.

He did it on a nightly basis, jumping in from the fire escape, letting his long legs carry him through the room and into your open arms, his body slotting into yours like a matching piece of puzzle —or two peas in a pod, as Alfred would say. He carried himself with practiced grace and gentle care, a teasing curl on the corner of his lip as he peppered your face in kisses, praises flying out his mouth like the Niagara falls, but today seemed different.

Gone was his elegance; gone was his smile and teasing; gone were his gentle and loving embrace. It seemed like he had a rough night, something affecting him enough to leave him frustrated and pent up, barreling towards you for relief that left you a mewling pile of sweat and cum. Sobbing out his name to a room filled with the creak of your bed and deep groans in your ear. Your body jerked forward with every hard thrusts, pushing your mouth further down his prodding fingers.

You could taste the rain and rust from it, the latex fingers slipping deeper in, long and lean, gagging you with the rapid press at the back of throat, tongue moulding around him. The deeper he went and the faster he drove his cock into you, the more your eyes rolled back, your cunt clamping around his throbbing girth, sloppily hitting your cervix. With the strength he put behind his thrusts, bouncing you back and forth, held back by his grip on your hip and chin, you babbled choked moans, tears streaming down your cheeks and dirtying his gloves even more. You would be beyond sore the next day, if not, definitely bruised and tired.

“God, you feel so good,” Dick moaned out, lips searching for yours and sharing an awkward and sloppy kiss with two fingers in the way, “So warm- fuck- and tight.”

Then he suddenly pulled away, throwing his head back as the hand gripping your chin sliding up your cheek and locking his fingers in your hair, tugging you backwards with his. Your arch dipped low, the roots of your hair straining under the force of his oscillating hips and firm grasp. Without the support of his chest, you shuddered through every snap, trembling from the pleasure he filled you, tits bouncing and walls fluttering.

You cried his name, heat thrumming through your veins, rapture coiling in the bruised warmth of your cunt, cervix battered by his leaky head, round and firmly pushing deep. Your toes curled, falling into the throes of a blindingly white orgasm, walls pulsing around him as your hips moved to meet him halfway, riding your high and easing off it.

He groaned, feeling you clamp down, his pace fluctuating between quick and shallow, and sloppy and hard, until he was rabbiting away, rocking into you with a solid grip pulling your head back. Giving you a few more thrusts, he fully tensed, driving as deeply as he could before his cock jerked, cum pumping into your womb. Tiredly rolling his hips, he slumped down, hand falling to cradle you against this chest, mumbling out apologies as if what he did hadn’t turned your world upside down and into mush.

“You did forget to change, though,” you gasped, humming to the kisses he pressed to your shoulder.

“Huh?” he blinked, sounding confused after coming his brains out, " But you love the suit.”

You chuckled, lids weighted down by sleep.

König was a man who didn’t fear much. He was experimental in his private life despite his love of repetitive habits, familiarity meant comfort, but with you, testing new things felt like a new excitement. The thrill of it gave him an addictive high, and making you happy was simply a new plus. Mixing the new and old - much like comfort and thrill - was an experience he wouldn’t miss out with you. So, he said yes.

Food play was different. Unlike bending you in half, he needed a helping hand before he acted, a word of encouragement from you to feel confident enough to do it. The gentle caress of your hands down his scarred shoulders, massaging the tension out of him with small circles and pretty words. You drowned out his fears and self-doubt, elevating him to the point he was rendered inebriated on you alone, snapping his hips into you and suckling on your cream-covered tits with little restraint of his voice.

König pumped you full of cock, the girth of him carving a space inside you that only he could fill, and he was proud of it. Pressing your knees to your face, testing your flexibility every time he folded you in half, ploughing into you with little care. He was much too distracted by the sway of your breasts, bobbing along his thrusts, any whip cream he missed melting down your chest. His mouth followed the trail of sweet vanilla, from your perky nipples down the valley of your breasts, tongue pressed flat to your soft skin.

It tasted like salt and sugar, coating you in a sticky sheen of melted cream and sweat, a perfect treat on the back of his tongue that he vocally expressed with a loud groan. He nipped at you, teething hickeys on your skin like a curious puppy that’d found something he loved, leaving a line of drool and red welts up and down your chest. Peppering your collar with little kisses that contrasted the harshness of his pumps, ramming into you with desperation and matched by the wildness of his fingers bruising your thighs.

You shared a kiss, sloppily locking lips to share a passionate moment, muffling both your mewls and his grunts, basking in the glow of the moment before he pulled away, eyes roving over the expanse of your chest, abdomen and finally, your belly. He let out a low and needy moan, squinted eyes glued to the bulge that appear whenever he buried himself to the hilt. It followed the path his cock made, sliding out and sinking back in, moulding you around his thick cock, his head forwarding every thrusts.

You were just so beautiful, as pretty as he was drunk off of you and your pussy, painting a creamy ring around his base. Your cunt clamped down, sucking him back in when he pulled out, but never leaving your warmth, his bulbous head lingering in before he rammed his hips, jerking you a cry out of you. Pleasure coiled in your core, pulsing through your veins like a wildfire, fed by his cock and strength, mumbling out praises upon praises towards him.

And when you came, it felt like a thousand bees buzzing under your skin, igniting your nerves alight. You tensed, the muscles of your stomach spasming as you fluttered around him, cunt milking the ropes of cum that he spewed into you. Cock throbbing and head twitching, he wasn’t doing much better than you, fucking into your grinding ups, both meeting halfway. He was left breathless, exhaustion weighing heavily on his back, his body supported by his arms alone to stop himself from collapsing on you.

Boy, was he glad he listened to you.

He loved you. There wasn’t any question about it. It wasn’t a probability. It was a fleeting moment of infatuation stemming from a burning crush he had for you. It was a statement that came straight from his heart. Jason Todd loved you with all his undead heart, and Red Hood cradled you with all broken parts. You were the light at the end of a dark path, strong and pulsing, a steady stream of love and comfort for him alone. It was something he cherished.

He wasn’t shy about it either. The big and broody man people knew him as was like a lovesick puppy following you, at your beck and call, and soft, simply soft. For someone so closed off behind a wall of snark remarks, sarcastic one-liners and fake smiles, he was surprisingly touchy as he was possessive. An arm around your waist, his head nuzzled to your stomach, his body curled around yours, a plethora of tooth-rottingly sweet kisses pressed to your skin, and more that left his siblings gagging and father flushed.

Then there was his need to please you, the despairing want to make you happy so you wouldn’t leave him. He knew you weren’t so shallow, you were neither cruel, nor superficial, but his self-doubt and hate took root in anything he wanted, rotting away the good from the bad. Perhaps that was the reason he loved your praises, being reminded that he was more than his past and that you loved him just as much as him. And he loved these moments too.

Kneeling under you, his hands desperately roved up and down your legs, cheek pressed to your calf. He moved, lips trailing down to your ankle to kiss the protruding bone, eyes fluttering at the reverence he felt.

“Oh, Jay,” you cooed, fingers running through his messy hair, through the white stripe and silky, midnight black, “My sweet Jay.”

He preened under your possessive affection, breath leaving his nose with a shudder. He loved you so, so much, and when he thought this was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, you took his breath away again and again. You rendered him speechless, mouth agape and eyes blinking dumbly at you. Seated on the edge of your shared bed, wearing nothing but his red hoodie and stockings that rode up your plush thighs. You were like a goddess sitting on a throne of silk, and all that was missing was a light behind you to truly make his vision a reality.

He liked that you wore stockings, a deep crimson lace, sheer from the sock up to the band of flowery stitching around your waist —his favourite pair. One he kept ripping to pieces to get to the source of your pleasure; one he bought too many times because of a mind-numbing craze, but he told himself he’d save at least one pair. Just one, he promised.

And one he broke he second he kissed your thigh. Pointy teeth sinking into the mesh, and tearing an opening with his teeth alone, his mouth searched for the warmth of your uncovered thigh. You screamed his name in surprise, your yelp driving him deeper, widening the hole he made until it opened a path to your slick folds. It taunted him, the glistening slick, the suppleness of your lips, the headiness of your scent and the pulsing of your swollen clit. It made him throb in his pants.

“Jay, I want you,” you looked so cute with a pout on your lips, lower lip pushed out and hands pulling his head up, “Gimme your cock.”

Who was he to deny you when you asked. Sliding his briefs down his thick thighs, his cock slapping his thigh with a wet sound, head twitching and veins thrumming, and by the time his brief’s pooled around his ankles, he was already hovering over you. The head of his cock parted your folds, easily sliding with every grind and bumping into your sensitive nerve. He fucked you without pushing into you, finding enough pleasure by rutting against you like a hormonal teenager as his hands slipped under his hoodie to fondle with the fat of your waist and the vigorous sway of your breasts.

You mewled his name, back arched towards him, face splitting in pure rapture with clenching hands and rolls of your hips, rocking back and forth. You latched onto him, lips locking in passionate kiss, his groans muffling your little moans. You were s pretty and felt so good, soft and pliable and lovable under his wanton grunts. Your beautiful voice praising him with every stolen breath, you body reacting to his without a second of hesitance, and your eyes catching his the moment they opened. He didn’t know if he could last a second longer. Pleasure coiling in his guts, a burning knot tightening at the expense of his sanity and patience.

“It’s okay,” you kissed the corner of his lips, nose pushing against the crook of his neck where your breath warmed his sweaty skin, “Cum for me, Jay. I want you to cum.”

It broke through him with a full-body tremor, wracked with strong emotions as he came. Hips stuttering and panting, ropes of cum spurting out of his head, coating your stomach and thighs. He stared at it cool on your skin, gazing at the hearts in your eyes.

“Love you,” he gasped, chest heaving, “Love you. Fuck, I love you, babe.”

Alejandro thought you looked pretty —no, he knew you were beautiful. With the pretty flow of your hair and the bright smile of your face, you were the sun in his life. You elegance and down-to-earth perspective made it impossible for him not to become so obsessed with you seeing how easily he’d fall to his knees for you. Kindness and warmth were the things he first saw in you, then your shining personality and your generous acts towards different people and strangers. You had a perfectly crafted image, and now, he had you looking disheveled and broken.

Your soft and naked skin glistening with a sheen of perspiration, lids heavy with your eyes rolled back and chest puffing with big and laboured breaths.Your hair was a mess, strays strands curling from the moisture and flying left and right. They stuck to your cheeks, some curling into your open mouth, following the trail of drool and others bouncing with every jerk of your body.

You looked like a heavenly mess from where he stood, gazing at you from the mirror, his hands running down your chest, thumb hooking your pebbled nipples, hard and bitten red. His eyes never ounce left your body, following his hand down your body, drinking up the erotic sight he created. He felt every curve and scar on your skin, looking at your stretch marks and beauty marks with adoration, and eventually landed on the small bump that appeared when he bottomed out, grinding himself to the hilt, his cock bullying it’s way through the gummy walls of your cunt.

You were as soft and welcoming there as you were with everything else, tight and warm, sucking him deeper when he pushed in, feeling you clamp down on him. Your shared sick and cum trickled down your thighs, rounding the fat of your push legs and down the base of his girth, the opaque ring slowly melting. He had you cock drunk and dumb, mumbling away incoherent words that he only thought were his name and pleas, fucked against your wood vanity until you were crying and stupid.

The vanity scraped the floor with a strong thrust, banging against the walls in a rhythmic sound, following his alternating pace. One moment he was making love to you, a gentle and deep pace, and the next, he was driving into you with hard and fast thrusts, forcing air out of your lungs. He made sure you wouldn’t be able to wrap your head around it, the plan he started out with to have you crumbling in his arms, mind blank and unable to speak.

And it worked well —maybe too well, but at least you were relaxed now. He promised you comfort and safety when he gave you the ring, muttered once more as he rammed into you, feeling your cunt clench, stomach tensing with the mounting orgasm he was pulling from you. As you came again - maybe your third or fourth at this point? He lost count -walls milking his throbbing cock with a wail, he stared at both your and his reflection on the mirror, his eyes shining with deep affection, and lips curled in a kiss on the corner of your lips, he was reminded again of the reason he loved you so much.

You yelped when he rammed in, your body flinching back from the particularly hard thrust that nearly sent the table toppling over. It pulled a pained mewl from you, tears streaming down your swollen cheeks, slapped red by your interrogator for answers you didn’t have. Your ears buzzed, clogged from both his cock, bullying it’s way into you with little concern or care for you, and the heat that filled your head, and you missed whatever words he spoke to you.

“Tell me where he’s hiding,” the man’s voice boomed, repeating his prior question with a sharper edge.

You hear him this time, the growing anger and impatience that made you focus on it. Your eyes blurred, covered in a wall of tears and fluttering lashes —not that you could see him in the first place. You felt him, his hard body pressing down on you like a thousand tons, his cruel words that cut through you like the sharpest knives in existence, and his girth, the thick and round and heavy length that broke you from inside out. But you couldn’t see him.

You only knew your captor by the name he gave you “Ghost”. His face was hidden under a mask, a black cloth that fell over his face with what seemed like smeared streaks down his chin. They followed the dentures of his skull padding, the blunt teeth of his reaper’s skull that stuck solemnly and grimly, only giving you sight of his eyes. It didn’t quell your fear any more, seeing that even they were dark and murky, filled with vulgar intent.

More vulgar than the way he was violating you.

“What are his intentions?” Ghost growled out, pushing you against the sharp edge of the cold, metal table, “What are his plans?”

You cried out, fearfully shaking your head at the questions he fired one after the other in quick succession, his tone steady, unaffected by the roll of his hips. The table bit into your skin, pushing and pulling you with the motion of his thrusts, violating you until you felt your walls clench. Shamefully aware that your cunt leaked around the monster of a man, sucking him deeper and deeper, feeling him throb between your legs. And soon enough, Ghost came in droves, a proportionate amount of come to his size that left you feeling too full.

And finally, just like it first started, it suddenly ended. You could breathe, eyes rolled back from the shudders that wracked the length of your body, shakily mumbling words. With the moment passed, Ghost was gone and Simon took center place, replacing the scary mask with a familiar, scarred and soft face of your lover.

“You did good, ” he praised, pressing you to his chest and ran his fingers through your knotted hair, “You did perfect, love.”

You nuzzled against him, clinging to his shirt as he moved you elsewhere, out the small bedroom-turned-interogation-room and into the adjacent bathroom, with warm water running, tinted with scented oil and petals. You thanked Simon while he bathed you, washing away the tension and sweat from your body. When he deemed you clean enough, you were dried and eased into bed. You slept away in his arms, spooned from the back and felt safe under his warm gaze and soothing words.

There was nothing he hated more than galas, surrounded by entitled generals and their pompous wives that thought they owned everything simply because their husbands held a powerful position in the military. Forced to wear a stuffy suit, tie, belt, cuffs and all, the collar of his shirt felt suffocating in a room filled with moving bodies, gossiping wives and posturing men. The only reason he hadn’t taken off to hide somewhere, was Laswell cold stare and, occasionally, Price’s scolding gaze, reminding him that if either of them had to suffer, then everyone else had to.

Johnny quickly learned that being alone or finding someone he knew were the best options in this ballroom. Company deterred wandering hands and insistent chatter, young adults coming up to him to gush, seduce or impress him (he knew he was handsome, there was no reason for him to delude himself into thinking the opposite), but Ghost worked best as a protector with his grisly appearance and deep glare.

And as swiftly as he learned to stick to someone, he found the waiters serving champagne, sweet and bubbly drinks that he wasn’t that big of a fan of. He preferred harder drinks, maybe something that could drown out his boredom and frustration under the extravagant, crystal chandeliers of the room, but any alcohol was better than none, especially in this situation. Beside Ghost, Johnny downed flute after flute, the slight burn of alcohol soothing his nerves, washing him over with some kind of relief until he needed to piss.

He left Ghost with a wave, walking away with a few mumbles about needing to go to the toilets. The halls outside the big doors were maze-like, winding corridors and similar decors, they all looked the same and it was confusing. Luckily, he met a staff member who’d pointed him in the right direction and the moment the doors closed behind him, he took his sweet time, admiring the wealthy look of a public toilet. The golden accents, the white plaster walls, the marble floor, the potted plants and the hole he caught i a open stall-

“Huh?” he blinked dumbly, stumbling towards it without zipping his flier up, “that’s a fuckin’ glory hole. ”

He was torn between a scoff and laugh, his tipsy mind encouraging him to push his cock through the cut when he remembered that the women’s bathroom was on the other side. He knew the chances of it being occupied was slim, near impossible, but it’d be a fond memory to laugh at. Staying a second longer, he pulled away with a disappointment sigh when a hand gripped him,freezing him in his tracks.

Whoever was on the other side had soft hands, nimble fingers that pumped him from the base up, thumb swirling over the tip and coaxed him forward. Johnny shamefully grew harder in moments, the mounting frustration coursing down his cock. He jumped when a voice called out to him:

“You clean?”

You had a sweet voice as well, which definitely didn‘t help his case.

“Yes.”

That’s all it took for you to wrap your warm mouth around him, plush lips teasing his head with kitten licks, nails running down the veins of his throbbing cock. Then you sunk down, hand following the movement of your mouth, his cock sliding to the back of your gagging throat, walls closing around him in a pulse. It made his knees weak, hip sharply bucking into you, pulling a choking moan that he apologised for, but he still kept going. He gave you quick thrusts, working himself deeper, hilting as best as he could with a wall between both of you.

It made him wonder what you looked like. Did you have long or short hair? Were you pretty or cutesy? Were you shorter or taller than him? He had so many question, curiosity a permanent figure in his mind with a desperate want to place a face to the person who was sucking him off so fucking well. But he was quickly pulled out of his mind with a mind-numbing moan that shook through him. His cock twitched, and he groaned, head thrown back as he rolled his hips.

His breath hitched, every thought drowned under a wave of please, feeling his balls tighten and veins throb. He flushed red, cheeks and ears burning as his hips stuttered, driving down your throat and coming with spurts of cum. He almost felt disgraced about finishing so fast, still rabbiting into the hole, but you gave head like no other and he was proud of being on the receiving end of your performance.

“Do ah get to know your name?”he gasped, chest heaving and nap sweating down his collar.

He heard you chuckle, voice fading as you walked away from him:

“Secrecy’s all part of this, sweetheart.”

He rushed out the door, hoping to catch you, but all he saw was an empty hall. He just missed you.

He had the whole night planned, every moment marked down to a T. He would go on with his stalking, peering over the stupidly open window of a blue haired man. He would watch the man prance and dance around, twirling to some jazz music that he put loud enough to hear it from outside. It was too easy to collect both useful and useless information about his victim —laughably easy. Then he would go on to finish his night with this month’s hit, a spectacle he plotted for a few weeks, meticulously planned acts and nothing lesser than perfection for his story.

Jed was a man of observation, but Danny was a man of adaptation. He planned ahead, but was always ready to work around a sudden impediment, and this, this wasn’t what he had in mind, but he really liked what he was doing. It was an odd adjustment, but one he welcomed with an utmost amount of excitement and thrill. Especially when you looked so pretty ion tears, tied and gagging on his cock. For someone who had struggled so much, you took him so well while your boyfriend watched, bound to a chair Danny brought in from the kitchen and ropes he kept near him at all times.

“Looks like your boy toy’s enjoying the show, darl,” he chortled, shoulder shaking, “Can’t blame him, can I? When you look the way you are.”

He dragged you further down his cock by your hair, gloved hands curled around messy locks. You looked like a man’s wet dream: puffy eyes, wet lashes and bulging cheeks, the head of his cock pressed against your cheek. The gummy membrane of your throat moulded around him, forced to quickly adjust to his hard rhythm. You gagged obscenely, drool sputtering down your chin, gagging around him in a desperate act to breath.

“Fuckin’ choking on my cock while your boyfriend watches, huh?” he turned to stare the boy down, grinning under his mask, but he never stopped bobbing your head, “Look at him, getting hard.”

Hitting the back of your throat, he groaned when you clenched down, wrapped tightly around his tip. He throbbed, head thrown back in pleasure and fucking up into your mouth, working himself as deep as he could, and you, choking and squirming, did nothing but take him. Maybe he wouldn’t kill you. Your boy toy, sure, but you were the most fun he’d had in a while, even with the drastic change of plans. He wouldn’t mind having and seeing this sight every day if it meant he got off on you.

“Lookin’ rough over there, bud,” he mocked when he turned back to your boyfriend, eyes gazing down to the tenting pants, “Too tight?”

His eyes never strayed too long from yours, watching his girth sink into you, his pubes wet from your drool and poking at your nose.

“Can’t say the same ‘bout me.”

He truly couldn’t, when he was so close to coming, twitching and grunting. Sparing one last glance at his screaming spectator, he grasped your head with both hands and rammed in, punching the air out of you as he came. He shuddered, body wracked by a strong tremble, cum spurting into your mouth. He threatened to gut you if you spilled a single drop - he couldn’t have evidence staining the sheets - and you obediently drank everything, gulping down rope after rope until he stopped twitching. Only then did he let you gasp out, slumped over the bed gasping and lashes fluttering.

Now, to get rid on his spectator.

“Wooo, I certainly had fun,” he strut towards the main character of his new plot, pulling his pants up before he went at it, knife sinking over and over again into the soft fat of his bound victim. Blood sprayed around him, continuously staining his coat and surrounding even after he stopped screaming, “Well, better luck in the next life.”

He’ll have to come back next week.

You grappled against him, sliding against his body under the shower, hot water streaming down your naked skin. You leaned heavily on him, stuck between the burning warmth of Jason’s body and the cold wall. You clung onto him, fingers sliding through his wet locks, pushing his white strands away from his eyes as you feverishly kissing him. You sucked on his lip, teeth biting down on the swollen skin and he groaned, hips bucking sharply.

“Sweetheart,” he pulled away, his hold on your waist tightening.

You let out low moans, knees bucking as Jason drove up, his cock filling you out in ever way. The thickness of his arms the wrapped around you, his toned chest pressing you to the wall, his roughed up hands gripping you, his lips plush lips devouring you and his cock stretching you thinly, Jason could have done away with you and you would have let him —without a moment of hesitation.

You rocked back, a leg thrown around his hips and lips latching back against his, you let out a string of curses when his cock nudged your g-spot. You reached out to him, arms wrapped around his neck, lips never faltering as you met him halfway. Grinding down on him, his broad head brushing your gummy cervix, moulding the slick membrane of your cunt to the shape of his cock. The veins that ran up his shaft that carved lines inside of you, his thick base plugging you up and his twitching head breaking you apart with ever thrust.

You couldn’t deny that he made you feel whole, in both mind, body and soul, your heart swelling up as much as the knot in your guts, forcing you to arch against him, head thrown back and into the shower head’s spray. His lips still lingered on you, trailing down the corner of your mouth, nipping at the shell of your ear until he reached your throat, sucking a bruise on the pounding line of your heart, beating at the rhythm of his pace —hard and fast.

He rammed in deep, jerking you back and forth, an arm pulling you towards him by the nap, fingers lacing with the hairs that stuck to your back, sending pangs of pain that mixed sinfully with pleasure. He was lost in the throats of rapture, pupils dilated and cheeks a light pink, flushed from the heat of the shower and the exhaustion of your passionate moment, and it had you spiraling over the edge. You choked a sob, your legs failing you as you unraveled in his arms, walls clamping around him, gushing down his cock.

“Jay,” you cried his name, feeling him stutter out your name in reply, “Want you.”

He groaned, face hidden in the crook of your neck as he relentlessly fucked up, his body wracked with shudders as you milked him.

“I know. I know,” Jason gasped, hips sporadically jerking forward as he came, painting your cunt in a thick coat of cum, “I got you, princess.”

He lazily dragged his cock in and out of you, riding out both your orgasms until he grew soft and your cunt stopped fluttering. He lewdly slipped out, hanging heavily between his legs, his cum following out, leaking down your thighs and it had him twitching back to life. Jason peppered your face with kisses, pulling you flush against his chest as his half hard girth sunk back in, pulling a mewl out of your bitten lips.

“One more,” his shy mumble had you giggling, but you still agreed, rocking your hips.

He took your consent with wanton need and made you come again. One more turned to another, then another. He fucked you until your legs stopped working and voice died, body continuously spasming until you couldn’t come anymore. And after that, he did it again.

You knew you pushed him to the last straw when John abruptly turned towards you, his glare a deep red and lips pulled into a mean frown. Not only had you hid all his favourite hats - his used bucket hats and stretched wool beanies - squirrel away his cigars and annoyed him with your incessant bothering. For the past few days, you batted your lashes and pouted at him whenever it looked like he was frustrated, you played into his love of you and your pouting, making it nearly impossible for him to stay mad.

You kept at it, poking the bear, in both literal and figurative sense, until he burst. He neither rushed nor stomped you, John Price walked, slow and purposeful step that he took with calculated intentions. The dark gleam in his eyes, his pursed lips and the tightness in his body that promised your doom in a one way or the other; and in your situation, it meant being retaught how to behave.

“Please!” you wailed, hips bucking back, searching for a way to relieve the ache in your core, “‘m sorry.”

John snapped his palm against the bruised and flushed cheek of your ass, jerking your forward, body moving only to be stopped by the permanent grip on your nape, holding you still from squirming away from your punishment. It left a wet mark on the rippling fat, thumb soothing it with small circles before they slid between your legs. His fingers nudged your rim, then parting your swollen folds, circling the entrance of your drooling cunt, leaking an obscene amount of slick from all his teasing and edging.

“You’re sorry? Is that right?” he crooned, fingers sinking in, pumping your sensitive cunt full.

You jumped, walls clamping down in an attempt to keep him in, because you were on your last leg. Pulled taunt with the constant edging, digits bullying their way into you, curling against a bling spot that made your toes curl, his blunt nails raking your gummy walls and pushing you closer and closer to the edge before he pulled out. John left you high and dry, limbs twitching from the loss of your near orgasm, clawing at the tip of it the same way your nails dug into the meat of his clothed thighs.

““s not my fault you’re not paying attention to me,” you whined, earning another slap.

“You don’t sound sorry, love, ” he hummed, keeping a cool and unbothered tone despite the rough rock of his hand, pumping into you with loud squelches, “Still a brat after this long.”

Your leg twitched, biting down a moan and John moved away, seemingly able to catch your subtle cues when you’re on the brink of an orgasm. Your attempt at tricking him failed miserably, leaving you throbbing and sobbing, your nerves on fire after another stolen orgasm. You cried out his name in sheer oversensitivity and agony, your feet kicked out and he spanked you twice. Once for your deception and another time for your kicks.

“Do that again and daddy won’t let you cum,” he tutted, his tongue clicking sharply, “Understood?”

Whining, you blinked away the tears that collected around your waterline and nodded, your voice dying into a wet sound of submission. At this point, you were willing to do anything if it meant he’d make you come.

You squirmed under the heavy weight of her stare, the dark and excited gleam in her brown eyes. Valeria left you breathless and needy, glued to your seat with limbs feeling like jelly and mind a melted shambles babbling. You were seconds away from simply melting into the bed, goosebumps rising and nerves set alight by her beauty and seductive strut. One strong leg swinging forward, one after another, her sun-licked skin shining a warm bronze. Wearing nothing but a pair of lace lingerie that made blood rush up your cheeks, warming it as you watched her tits sway and abdomen tense, but her movements stayed fluid, done with an elegance you could only dream of attaining.

Going into this relationship, you hadn’t expected much, unsure if this would last the amount of time you hoped it would, but she just blew your mind away with all aspects of life. She had it all. She was as sexy and as dreamily affectionate as you wanted, bathing you in an unending amount of love that had you drowning under her kisses and soft pets. If Valeria wasn’t showing you how she felt, or how she wanted you to feel - aroused, loved, cared for, thought of and precious - then she would voice it, her sultry tone sending you spiraling down a hole of admiration and want. You clung to her with desperation, her protective and dominating presence a comforting shadow looming over you.

You were as smitten with her as she was with you. Perhaps that how you felt secure enough around her to let her move you around, bend you, contort you and sit on you; and you enjoyed it. Finding yourself kneeling and face pushed between her strong thighs, lapping at her with loud pants and a salivating mouth. You hungrily drank her in, tongue spreading her lips apart, the tip swirling around her leaking hole, tasting her slick on the back of your throat with a moan. You flattened your tongue, slowly running upwards and pulling the hood of her clit, bringing her swollen nub out to tease it.

You groaned around her clit, lips suckling at it while she ran her fingers through your hair, nails scratching the back of your head and muttering sweet praises. She tensed over you, her feet trembling when you dipped a finger in, listening to both her enchanting voice and the wet pumps of her cunt. Her bitter slick lingered in your mouth, and nose filled with her scent, the musky sweat and sweet perfume filling your nose. She rendered you mind numbingly needy, face and hands busy entertaining her while you rutted against her foot, hips rolling to chase your own pleasure. You were sure you were drooling down her shoe, cunt obscenely wet and mewling into her crotch.

“You’re being such a good girl for mommy,” she groaned, head thrown back in pleasure, “Chica dulce.” [sweet girl]

You preened under her words, pushing further into her rocking hips, lapping with invigorated energy. You sunk a second finger, curling it upwards, pushing against a sensitive patch that made her jolt, a low moan slipping through her plump lips. It was mixed in her stuttering words, little mewls and bubbling praises she gave you. Every ounce of affection coaxed you into it, reaching for more with both tongue and hand. With a few more licks and thrusts, you had her bursting from the seams, pleasure wracking through her body with riveting sounds and twitching legs.

Valeria shakily rocked her hips, fingers locking in your hair to pull you ever closer to the source of her rapture and flooded your senses with her, leaving you to swallow everything she gave with quick sways of your cunt on her heel. When she finally let go of you, you arched back with a shuddering gasp, lungs starved of oxygen and mind swimming dumbly around the thought of her. She pet you, hand sliding down your cheek and cu your chin, urging you off your knees and into her warm arms.

“Come here,” she kissed your breath away, tasting her cum in your mouth.

“Thank you mommy.”