. . .
After the first day, he brought back flowers.
After the second day, he brought back chocolates. . . and some wood filler for the door. . .
After the third day, he lost his patience. . . along with a good bit of his personal belongings, via the window.
On the fourth day, you were hungry enough to eat the chinese food he brought back. He’d made a stupid pun about fortune cookies after. You glared at his attempt at humor, and scowled into your chow mien.
The fifth day really scared you. . . He tugged at your tussled, dirty clothes, and held you too tight. He said he was going shopping. . .
After that first week, you took a shower while he was gone. When you got out, your old clothes were no longer in the room. You didn’t come out for two hours. Listening for any noise, any creak of the floorboards, you stayed and waited until you could trust he wasn’t there. You reasoned your clothes must be in your room, and that if he had an agenda, it would’ve been accomplished already. As quietly as you could, you snuck out of the bathroom and to the spare bedroom you’d claimed. Though you’d convinced yourself your clothes were in the bedroom, you weren’t as surprised to see them gone.
Gone, and replaced with a stack of satin, lace, silk, and printed linens, in a menagerie of lingerie, however, was a bit of a shock. For a minute, as you shifted through the soft pinks, wine reds, and lacy blacks, you considered tossing all of it out the window. Just like you did with the lamps, and the pillows, and his t-shirts and shoes. The remaining price tags made you extra devious, and the note left on top of it all made you seethe.
~ picked up a few things to replace your clothes. they’re soft for you, and cute for me, so it’s a win-win. wanna see you in them from now on ~
It almost made you want to toss them in the oven and set it to broil. But, you were still naked, so you made the more (embarrassing) obvious choice.
The least revealing option was a satin pajama set, pink like roses and trimmed with black piping and black buttons. The shorts hardly covered anything intimate, though admittedly, you did feel better getting out of those dirty old jeans. Even if it meant that your ass peeked out and your legs were put on full display. The collared blouse buttoned up to an agreeable point, and you tried not to worry yourself with the shorter hem.
Frighteningly, everything fit perfect. You imagine the conversation at the store must’ve been fun.
“yeah she’s about this tall, hips are about this wide, ass felt like a 10, tits like an 11?”
You find a fuzzy pair of black socks to keep another inch of you covered, and a fluffy white bathrobe at least cover what the shorts don’t. It seems he’s left you with a lot of leisure wear, though you know it won’t bring you any peace.
That night, as soon as he gets through the door, he can’t keep himself off you.
“ well ,” he breathes, a lewd grin stretching across his face, “aren’t you pretty. . .”
He plops his keys on the shallow table by the door, and stalks towards you with purpose. A shiver runs across your skin as he approaches, and you summon as much intimidation as you can muster. Your hands shake.
“you shouldn’ play with knives, kitten,” he tsks, flicking a finger, and in a burst of magic, sends the knife in your grip upwards to lodge into the ceiling. You gape, then flash your wide eyes towards your captor. He raises a brow bone, a smirk on his jaw. “might turn me on,” and it sounds like a threat.
You scramble from your position on the couch, opting to fling yourself over the backside and scurry to your room, but you don’t get halfway before he locks his bony fingers around your waist. You yelp, a noise which borders between fear and anger as he tucks you against his ribcage and turns, falling back against the couch seat. He shifts you onto his lap, tucking an arm tightly around your midsection as he presses his nasal ridge into your hair and his free hand runs up the length of your thigh.
His fingers raise a trail goosebumps, and his breath against your neck runs a shiver down your spine. His body is hot against your back, and he chuckles deeply at the motion of your hips struggling against him.
“you know just what i like, dont you? what is it, you tryin’ to show me some appreciation for your gifts?” he hums, his voice rumbling against your body.
His palm leaves your thigh when you whine (with indignation, of course), but he grasps the collar of your blouse and tugs it sideways, pressing his face against the hot skin of your neck. You hear him take a deep, full breath, then feel him release it as a thunderous sigh.
“ fuck , you smell amazing . i wanna eat you up, taste every inch. so sweet .” He punctuates his point by dragging his tongue across the throb of your throat, leaving a wet, sticky trail of saliva. You whine again, and bring your elbow back to jab him soundly in the ribs. He makes a short noise, but hardly loosens his grip.
He chuckles, then rubs his hand across your growling stomach. “oh, i see. you hungry or somethin’? i leave you alone all day, and you can’t find a way to feed yourself? alright, i’ll call in some pizza.” His arm loosens just enough for you to slip out and as you bolt, his bony hand strikes you across the ass. You finally make it to the “safety” of your room, his ruckus laugh trailing you.
The next day, you have a harder time choosing what to wear. Between the soft, black, button up crop top with tiny, matching shorts, and the pink camisole set with bunny faces on it, you decide the former covers your bust more substantially, and would probably hide the lacy straps of the bra you picked. Unfortunately, he had the foresight to also get you underwear, so now you pulled at lacy black things under your clothes. For breakfast, you ate the leftover pizza and took your usual place on the couch to continue your Fletflix show. As the vintage comedy played, you stretched out, knowing he wouldn’t be home for hours. The couch pulled you deeper into comfort, and your eyelids fell heavier and heavier. . .
When you stirred, a small moan drifted from between your lips.
“ain’t that a cute noise.”
You jolt, but before you can squirm, he clamps his bony palm against the back of your neck and holds you to the couch. You mutter a weak cry of confusion as you come to your senses. The pressure at the back of your neck remains, but his hand moves to your hip while the other is busy kneading the heavy flesh of your bottom. He pulls you to lift your hips high, and your thighs tremble as you feel the hem of your shorts lift across your skin.
He whistles low at the display, pressing his thumbs against the round cheek of your ass, grabbing fistfuls of flesh, and pinching your skin between his fingers. The fabric of the soft, cotton shorts is hardly covering your intimate region, rather it’s pulled upwards to almost split your folds.
“fuck, you look gorgeous,” he breathes shallowly, hands drifting lower, cupping your hot skin, running his thumbs achingly close to the inside of your thigh. A slap rings out as he makes harsh contact with your skin, and you gasp and grab at the couch. He seems to enjoy the movement of the muscle there, because he sucks in a breath and does it again. He grabs the skin roughly in his hand and admires the softness of you, the pliability as he moves the supple flesh of your bottom.
“stars, you’re not even wearin’ my favorite and you got me all riled up. sleepin’ there, all vulnerable. got me crazy, these tiny fuckin’ shorts. look at ya. amazing .” he rambles, his grip hardening to a bruising state.
You gasp at the painful pressure and he loosens his grip, but not before he grabs a fistful of each cheek and splits you open with a lewd, wet noise. He moans loudly and drags his thumb across the wet valley of your quivering heat. You whine and the shake of your thighs intensifies as a shot of regrettable arousal spikes through your stomach.
“ you’re soaked for me . . . damn ,” he whispers.
His touch leaves you completely, and the weight of his magic against your neck fades. You’re left confused and aching.
“too bad I’m exhausted from work. night, kitten,” he says, and you turn to watch him disappear into his own room.
The door closes with finality and you try and tame your racing heart. . . and your throbbing sex.
In your hands, you tightly hold onto your last set of pajamas. You’d gone through all the others this week, this was the last set to wear. All week, he had tormented you when he came home. When you wore the black and white polka dot cami set, with black lace trim, he’d hefted you into his lap and ground you against his hard on, wetting your neck and whispering a slew of obscenities into your skin. When you put on the pink set with the bunny faces, with a pair of white socks and pink, fluffy slippers, he pinned your hips against the kitchen counter and snaked his hands under your camisole, pushing aside your bralette and tweaking your nipples until you keened. You were sure when he excused himself, he’d came in his pants. Yesterday, it was a high-waisted, high-legged pair of striped linen shorts, with a long sleeve, low cut matching blouse that had him nestled between your thighs and sucking at the sensitive skin above your knee.
None of them had been his favorite.
And now, looking at this set, you could understand why. The red velvet, high-waisted shorts left nothing to the imagination, and the little red bow just below your belly button gave it a flirty flair. The matching top sported thin straps, and a busty neckline trimmed with a thin, playful lace. Another bow adorned the valley between your breasts, and the length of it hardly covered your ribs, leaving a sizable gap from the waistband of your shorts.
You were fucked.
Maybe you should just bend over when he got home, get it over with, finally. The thought sends a flutter of arousal through your core, but you push it away. You sigh, and exit your room, going into the living room to begin your day. You don’t even make it to the fridge before his big, bony arms wrap around you.
He growls low and it sends a shiver across your skin. Was it anticipation?
“now where’d you get this lil’ number, huh?” he growls, teeth already nipping at the exposed flesh of your shoulder. You shiver as his fingers dip beneath the waistband of your shorts and you grab at his arm to stop him. His other hand tilts your chin up so he has more room to slather his mouth against you. You gasp as his thick fingers split your folds and press into your sensitive clit. He snarls.
“no panties? you want it bad, don’t you? shit, so soft , how could i say no?” he huffs against you.
His finger starts a slow circle around the bundle of nerves and you shiver, knees clenching together.
“you’re such a good girl for me, i’m gonna do you right. gonna take my time with you,” he says, as he rolls the bud of flesh between his fingers. You can’t help but release a soft noise of pleasure as he circles, and circles, and circles that marvelous juncture between your legs, all the while huffing obscenities in your ear.
“can’t wait to feel every inch of you. can’t wait to taste you. stars if you feel this good, if you smell this good , you’re gonna taste like, fuckin, abrosia .”
Your grip on his arm tightens and your knees begin to shake. You can’t take it much longer, your legs will give out. He rolls over a particularly good point and your hips buck. He picks up on the point, and rolls over it again, and you buck your hips. He pins your hips to his and firmly presses against your little bud and you can’t hold back the meek groan of pleasure as he attacks the spot, not stopping until your knees shake until the point where they do give out.
You stumble, legs weak and shaking, and he catches your folding frame. With a swift motion, he removes his fingers from your slit and lowers you to the ground. You pant as you sit on your knees, hands bracing you against the carpeted floor. You steal a glance up at him and he moans, looking lustful.
“stars, babe, you’re so beautiful like that,” he whispers, tucking his fingers below your chin.
He pulls so that you straighten, kneeling before him. Quickly, he slides his jacket off his shoulders and throws it into the corner of the room. He grasps your chin in one hand, and slides down the waistband of his sweats with the other. His length bounces in front of your lips, thick and red, and beaded with pre-cum. He presses his hips forward and the head of his shaft brushes your lips. You attempt to pull back, but his grip tightens on your chin and he opens your jaw with a squeeze. His thick cock presses against your tongue and you place your hand on his hip to push him away, but he’s so much stronger than you. He fills your mouth slowly, and you whine through your nose.
“so, so beautiful,” he hums, moving his hand from your chin to weave his fingers through your hair.
He watches you as he languidly fucks your mouth, listening to you whine and moan around his cock, watching the strap of your camisole slid down your shoulder, and the soft, thin skin of your breasts blush pink. He watches the length of himself gently piston between your tight lips, and as you close your eyes, he moans at the feeling of your tongue pressing against the head.
“amazing, you’re amazing. you’re mouth is so warm, kitten, just wait ‘till i can fill the rest of you. fill you with my -”
Your lips pop off him and he thrusts against your cheek, leaving a wet mark. You gently wrap your fingers around the base of him and slowly pump.
“Why wait?” you ask, lust clouding your gaze.
A thrill shoots through him, and he allows you to pump him a few more times, before he scoops you up and wraps you around his waist. His fangs press hungrily against your mouth, and his hands that support your bottom move the fabric of your shorts aside to run a thick finger against your folds. You keen against his mouth, kissing him with just as much intensity. Your mouths are wet when he kicks open the door and he lays you on his mattress. He yanks his t-shirt over his head and tosses it away, his pants follow.
You feel unfairly clothed but he grabs your ankle and pulls you so your sex is against his knee. The short friction makes you grind against the bone and you wrap your fingers around his collar bones. He shudders and pries your fingers off, instead pressing your wrists into the sheets. You moan his name and he chuckles.
“you want me to fill you up? huh, kitten? are you desperate to be fucked?” he teases, pressing his thumb into your inner thigh.
You agree wantonly and he grins.
“how about i fuck you with these skimpy lil jammies on? they look so good on ya, don’t see why we gotta get rid of em.”
His thumb sneaks under the curve of your shorts and slicks itself in your arousal. You whimper when it drags roughly over your clit, then presses inside of you. You squeeze your eyes shut tight and bite your lip as he slowly pumps his finger. Just his thumb feels so good , you’re not going to be conscious when he decides to fuck you.
With his free hand, he drags up the hem of your top to release your breasts, moaning as they bounce free. He roughly tweeks a nipple and you croon. Between the pump of his finger, the rough treatment of your nipple, and now the wet kiss against your collarbone, you’re lost. You pant as your walls clench around his finger, your hips squirming to take it deeper. You want to cum, need him to make you cum. His teeth trail from your collar to your other nipple, and he lavishes his tongue around it. At the same time, he pulls his thumb from inside you, drawing a needy moan, and uses the slick to grind his thumb against the perfect spot on your clit.
You gasp his name, lifting your hips to meet his hand and grind against him. You’re so close, please just a little more, just a little harder . Everything felt so good, so hot and sticky, so wrong to want it, but right to have it. You needed to-
He halts his thumb and you’re about to reprimand him, when he pokes two thick fingers at your entrance. They press forward and you moan loudly as they fill you, and you claw at his back. As his fingers pump, his thumb works against your clit and you feel that familiar build-up of pleasure in your gut. He pumps his fingers gently inside of you, pressing the fingertips forward to rub that spectacular spot against your walls. You can’t contain your moans, panting at the feel of his fingers gently stretching you, filling you, fucking you, and the pressure against your clit has you arching your spine against him. His hand is slick with your arousal, pushing his fingers as deep as you could take it, shuddering at the tight, hot seal you formed around him.
He felt your hips stutter and your legs tremble. You were close. He gives your breast a hard squeeze before lowering his hand to your hip, digging his fingertips into the soft flesh there and pinning down your squirming body. Your breathing grew shallower, hands clawing into the bedsheets above your head, as you writhed and desperately thrust against his knuckles. You were so close, so close, so close-
With a gasp, your body tensed up and you draw in a heady breath, thighs shaking as you cum around his thick fingers. A wave of pleasure washes over you and you breathe high pitched moans and whimpers.
He doesn’t give you a second before he harshly pumps you with his fingers and you choke, legs attempting to clamp together and stop the onslaught of over-stimulation he begins. You croak his name between moans, and shudder as he grasps your knee and pulls your leg away from the other. He pants as he fucks you hard over his fingers, almost drooling at the squelch of your heat.
“-t-too much!” you finally gasp, clawing at his arm to stop him.
You’re losing yourself. Stars swim in your vision and your body aches, subject to the pounding of his fingers inside your cunt. You jolt, and squirm, and try to twist away, but his grip is strong under your knee and he tucks your leg over his hip bone so he can grip your waist.
“S-stop! Ple-ease, n-no more, i-i ca-can’t, ha-a ,” you whimper, trying to wedge your unrestrained knee between you and his ribcage.
His tongue lolls out of his mouth and he looks down at you with an intense hunger. “can’t take it any longer? babe, you’re gonna take it all. ” His fingers still inside of you, but press deeper than before and your head lolls back.
“if i want your mouth, you’re gonna take it all, right down the back of that pretty little throat, ‘till you choke on my cock,” he growls, then, achingly slow, pulls his fingers from your sopping cunt, and smacks his palm against the top of your thigh. You yelp and tremble.
“if i wanna fuck your sweet tits and cum all over your beautiful face, you’re gonna open your mouth and lick me clean after ,” he snarls, curling his fingers underneath the waist band of your velvet shorts and tugging them down your legs.
You clamp your thighs together, but the attempt is weak when he grabs your hips and flips you easily onto your belly. His strength is unmatched, as the throbbing between your legs has left you in a weak haze. He pulls your hips up to match the height of his own, curving your spine in a steep slope.
“and if i wanna fuck your tight, pretty pussy, you’re gonna beg me for it,” he huffs, slicking the tip of his thick cock against your swollen folds.
“and you’re gonna thank me for every inch,” he lodges himself in your entrance and you whine. Fuck , he was going to fill you so nicely. He brings his hand down against your ass and you yelp. The impact burns afterwards and he soothes it with a rough rub.
“ say it ,” he demanded, pressing himself into you a little further. You shudder, trying to find some coherent words, and he takes the silence as a refusal, and brings his palm down again. Hard . You cry out and you somehow piece it together through the pain.
“T-thank you!” you gasp, anticipating another spank, but are rewarded with another inch of his cock splitting you apart.
“what a good girl you are, so obedient for me,” he praises at a whisper. You feel so full, you can hardly breath it felt so good. He stretched you out and filled every part of you, and then some. As he continued to press into you, you mewled “thank you”’s like a prayer, clawing at the mattress with every inch he filled. The burn around the ring of your cunt intensified as he gently thrusts, and you reached back to grab for him.
“Ah! Too much, stop!”
“you’re gonna milk my cock for every drop of cum,” he panted, lost in the tightness of your body, “gonna have you dripping, gonna cover you. . .”
You batted at him as the pleasure bordered on pain. He pulled your hands away and stuck your wrists to the mattress keeping them there with heavy magic, and pressed into you deeply. You shudder at the weight of him inside you, feeling him deeper than anything you’ve ever had, thicker than you’d ever dreamed you could take. A whine leaves your throat when he tightly grasps your hip with one hand, then places the other at the small of your back.
“don’t you get it? you’re mine, my little fuck toy , right now. i can do anything i want with you, how would you stop me?” he growls, cock pillowed in your folds. His hand drifts backwards and presses against the top of his cock, gently prodding at your already too tight entrance.
“N-no!” you gasp, squirming as his thumb circles gently around the tight flesh.
“i love when you squirm, babe. maybe i’ll give you a reason to squirm while i fuck you however i want, give it to you until you can’t keep your eyes open, how ‘bout that?”
He gently slides his thumb backwards and you gasp when it presses against you in other ways, and he begins to gently slide himself between your folds. The pleasure is immeasurable, and your eyes roll back when he thrusts forward again. You were completely laid out for him, vulnerable in every sense, and you doubted you could get him to stop once he got started.
“maybe when i’m done with you, i’ll tie you up real pretty and keep you here until i’m ready for you again. maybe i’ll let you fuck yourself on my magic until you need me to fill you up, make you scream. maybe i’ll just fill you full of magic and make you cum until the morning. shit, i can’t even decide which one sounds better.”
He’s panting, drawing in rough, heady breaths as he pistons himself into your folds, evidently getting off on his own words. They have their own affect on you, and you feel your cunt quiver with every suggestion he gives. Maybe you would like to be his little fuck toy, at least for a while, as long as he didn’t stop. Every slap of his hips against the soft flesh of your ass felt like sweet sin. Your arousal slipped down your thighs and gave him every freedom to pound into you as quickly as he liked. Your moans only encouraged him, and you were sure you’d lose your voice by morning… perhaps with the ability to walk.
“ stars , you’re so tight , sweetheart,” he gasps, punctuating with a couple of extra rough thrusts that leave you crying out. You struggle your wrists against where they’re pressed into the mattress, squirming as he bottoms out on each thrust.
He stutters and doubles over your back, wrapping an arm around your hips and practically snarling against your neck. The new brutal pace he sets is at the most delicious angle and your mouth falls open in a perfect circle and your eyes almost roll back. A whine slips past your lips and you feel the familiar ache rise up from deep in your gut, building towards another orgasm.
“R-red, hah , d-don’-t stop, oh ,” you barely manage, legs shaking in ecstasy.
He grumbles some sort of reply into your shoulder, and his hips pound into yours with impossible speed, coiling your orgasm tighter and tighter. Fuck , he felt so good. The constant whines and cries you made let him know how much you appreciated his pace. The drag of his thick cock inside of you was unbearably good, and his bruising grip on you still had you helpless to stop him. Even if you asked nicely, he’d certainly fuck you harder, just to remind you who was in control. Not that you wanted him to stop, you were already being so good for him, so wet and tight.
“fuck, sweetheart, im gonna cum, you just make the best noises, fuck, what a good girl,” he growls, hips stuttering.
You silently beg for it, feeling your own release tightening to a climax, before it snaps and stars dance across your vision. Your lips fall open to signal your release with a high, lewd moan, while a deep groan rumbles from him. With each slow thrust, he gives a low grunt and you keen and pant as your body goes limp. The insides of your thighs are glistening with arousal that drips down from your cunt, and when he pulls out, his thick red cum floods out and joins the mess on the sheets. He leans down and places a gentle kiss against the back of your neck and loosens his bruising grip on your wrists. You hum at the affection and roll over to face him-
. . .
When you stir, you realize your sheets are very wet, and you are very alone, and are aching in a way that suggested you did not get fucked within an inch of nirvana, but rather were entangled in the most embarrassing sex dream you ever had the absolute pleasure of receiving. The space between your thighs felt sticky and the sheets had been tangled around your ankles, kicked around during your “fit”. Your face burns when you realize you might’ve made some pretty embarrassing noises in your sleep. You really hope your roommate hadn’t heard, he’d never let you live it down.
Slowly, you pull yourself from your messy sheets, throw them in a pile on the floor, along with your soaked underwear and sleep shorts, and change into something dry. The smell of breakfast coaxes you out of your room and into the shared kitchen where your roommate stands in front of the stove, whistling a low tune and flipping some pancakes.
“‘eyy, g’mornin’ sleepin’ beauty,” Red hums, his voice low and rumbly when he looks over his shoulder at you.
The sound causes a throb, and you fake a yawn to distract yourself before pulling a plate from the cupboard. You mumble a good morning and go to make yourself a nice stack of pancakes, pouring the syrup on thick.
“Thanks for making breakfast,” you say, then look around for sides, “is there any bacon?”
Red chuckles and glances over his shoulder with a crude gaze. “nah, but i got a nice, fat sausage for ya’.”
You choke and he breaks out into raucous laughter, but you’ve already grabbed your pancakes and fled, your face burning and your thighs shaking. He calls after you, hardly able to get an apology out through his gasps for breath, but you won’t hear it. In the safety of your room, you eat your pancakes with quiet contemplation, wondering when these wet nightmares will ever cease their torment.