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“Stop moving, I’m trying to watch this.” You pouted, slapping Wrench’s hand from where they wandered up your top. He huffed through his mask and the metallic voice changer sounded staticky and low against the base of your neck.
You were cuddling on the couch in Dedsec HQ, everyone else had gone with Marcus to some party on the beach, but the two of you stayed back to watch the Star Trek anniversary reruns. Captain Kirk ranted to Spock through the T.V’s speakers, and you swear you were trying to focus, but your boyfriends pervy hands wouldn’t stop trying to distract you.
His body heat warmed your back, you were pressed up as flush against him as you could get. His arms wrapped around your middle, legs either side of yours. His patchy jeans rubbed rough against the skin of your legs, and the spikes on his jacket pressed almost uncomfortably against your shoulder blades.
Just as Kirk beamed down to some alien infested planet, Wrench’s nimble fingers slid up your side again and groped blatantly across your left boob. Your nipple hardened instantly under his palm, and poked through the thin of your cropped Blink 182 tour tee. A gasp escaped you before you could wiggle free from his grasp.
“Wrench-“ you half whined, hand circling his wrist. He giggled behind you and gave a little squeeze again out of acknowledgement. His arms tightened around you and he pulled you back so that you were practically sitting on his lap.
“C’mon~” he complained, “you’ve seen this show like three times through already.” His hand floated away for a second just to return under the cotton of your tee this time. His bare palm burned against your skin, and you shivered from the naked contact of it against your sensitive flesh.
You sighed and sunk into his embrace, letting him have his way and feel you up. It’s been so long since you two got to just be like this. PDA out the window now that everyone was gone, you both got the chance to just relax in each others embrace. And however horny, you welcomed any touch of Wrench’s that you could get.
You spoke up again after he moved both of his arms under your shirt, lifting it just under your chin. Both of his hand kneaded your breast now, one on each mound and shirt up- you were exposed to the room. You couldn’t help but cast a wary glance up the stairs.
“They’re all at that stupid party getting shit-faced, no one’s going to be back for a while.” He urged, pulling your nipples taut with his thumb and forefinger. You could feel how hard he was under you.
“Hey!” You yelped after a particularly rough pinch, “I don’t bother you when you’re watching your Jimmy Sissy- or whatever movies.”
“Jimmy Siska.” He corrected with a scoff.
“Whatever, they’re lame anyw-
OW!”
You shouted, reeling forward away from him. His fingers had suddenly twisted one nipple harshly, and your hands went to cover his and your sore breast.
“They are cinematic works of art, actually.”
It was your turn to scoff this time, your lips twitched up from the playfulness. And it warmed your heart that he was being so casual and domestic with you. You’d never tell it to his face though.
You relaxed back against his after a second, and one of his hands slid down to the button of your shorts. Making quick work he wiggled his fingers under the hem of the denim and cupped a palm against your core.
“They’re 007 knockoffs, Sissy could only wish he was as cool as Bond.”
Wrench groaned behind you, either from annoyance or horniness.. who’s to say.
He felt you up for a minute longer, and as you tried to re-focus your attention on the screen infront of you, the subtle buck of his hips combined with the presence of his hand kept you from re-investing your interest into the show. You half-watched half-grinded back against him.
His breathing behind the mask grew heavy, and you could feel his demeanor change to a desperate one.
“Please..” he whispered, middle finger slipping around the band of your panties and into your wet folds. “F-fuck.” The voice box crackled out, just barely picking up his low tone.
The pad of his finger found your clit and he lazily circled it, you moaned- gyrating your hips to match his movements. He scooped two fingers into your core, and they slid in and out so easily you could hear the squelch of yourself. The lewd noise made you shiver.
He pulled his fingers out and slid them up against your chin and into your mouth. You sucked and cleaned them obediently, his groan rumbled down his chest and vibrated against his back. You could see the led stars flash against the screen of his mask from the corner of your eye, he had your head tilted back slightly to watch you devour his fingers.
Slowly pulling them back out, he wrapped the wet hand loosely around your neck, the other traveling down to shove your shorts down your knees. Your panties caught in the fold of the denim and followed. He shifted against you for a second and lifted you just slightly, so that when you were pulled back down- his hardness slapped against your core.
You moaned and slapped your hands down against his thighs. His dark jeans were still on, and the teeth of his zipper he hastily ripped open bit at the underside of your thighs.
‘Pew Pew’ and other sci-fi lazed noises beamed through the stereo, but you were hyper fixated on the way Wrenches length covered the entire base of your pussy. The fat head of him pressed thick against your clit, and his hands traveled down to your hips- forcing them to inch ever so slightly across him. Your head lolled back against his shoulder, and you let him grind you over his lap, moans and the smell of your mingled sex filling the air.
“Wrench,” you gasped out, “it’s the fiftieth anniversary..” You tried to reason, the screen flashed blue and white as the space crew fought off hostile invaders. Your eyes drew over to the screen again.
It’s not like you didn’t want to fuck Wrench’s brain out right now, but you rarely got the chance to sit and enjoy media with all the running around you do for dedsec. Now was a rare moment that you just wanted to sit and enjoy with wrench.
He groaned and huffed behind you, fingers on your hips tightening before going completely lax and he wrapped this arms across you middle again. “Fine.” He concluded, stilling and setting his chin on your shoulder. His mask flashed sad slashes and the studs on the bottom of it pricked against the skin on your neck.
You let a loopy smile fall over your face, and you finally caved.
“Fine,” you echoed. Wanting to provide him with some kind of relief. After all, he was trying to be a good boyfriend for you.
You hovered up for a second, and adjusted the two of you so that Wrench’s dick stood straight up. With a long mewl, you slowly sat back down and let him enter you completely until your ass was seated around the base of him. He choked a groan behind you, and his arms tightened around your middle.
“Holy ffffuck, you’re so wet.”
“Yeah.” You mumbled lamely, adjusting to the size of him.
He filled you completely, and you swore you could feel him pulse around you. You shuddered at his attempt to buck up further into you, and you stilled him with your own hands across his.
“That better?”
“Yes.” He replied instantly.
“Good.” You cooed. “Can I watch my show now?” You asked.
He whimpered behind you, his forehead nuzzling against the base of your neck. Even through his mask you could feel his hot breath waft down your back. One of his hands wandered back up to play with your breasts.
“You’re fucking killing me.” He whined out after a minute, shuddering underneath the weight of you. Your core clenched when his cock twitched inside of your slick walls. “Ugh.” He groaned.
You shushed him, and cast your eyes back over the show. Honestly the episode was almost over, and he was right- you’d seen this season twice already so you knew what happened. But a part of you loved watching Wrench be desperate for you.
He groped your chest and pushed his hips up into you some more, nudging his head against the cup of your womb. You moaned and smacked a hand across the arm of the couch to steady yourself. He took that as a good sign and thrusted up again roughed then before- the momentum bounced you up and back down onto his length.
You tightened and your back arched off him instinctively. With your feet planted flat on the floor, you could lift yourself up slightly, and drop back down onto his lap. His robotic moans grew quicker as he watched himself enter you over and over.
It grew too much too quickly and soon you could tell he was nearing his end. His bucks became sloppy and desperate and his hold on you tightened, bruising your heated skin.
He took over after a minute when your head became clammy and you too were so close that you body became tense and you couldn’t move as freely. Wrench gasped and fucked himself up into you.
“Fuck!” He shouted again, skin slapping against skin. “You’re squeezing me so tight,” he rambled nonsense as he neared his end.
“Take it. Yess, take it.” With another long thrust that dragged against your walls, you pulsed and came undone above him. Your body shuttered and slouched as the waves of your organs crashed around you. Your nerves pricked as he continued to jerk in and out of you- growing overstimulated you almost cried in his embrace.
He cursed out again and the warmth of his cum emptied hot inside of you, you could feel the slick residue filling the top of your insides and then slowly start to seep out of you. A creak at the top of the stairs quickly sobered you- and you tossed the blanket draped across the arm of the couch around the both of you, covering the two of you from the waist down.
Just as you pulled your shirt back over your chest, Marcus and Josh rounded the corner.
“Hey.” He greeted. Eyeing your cuddling form.
“Hey.” You chimed back, after clearing your throat. Sweat dripped from your hairline and you cast your eyes back to the monitor of the T.V. Afraid to give anything away.
Wrench froze behind you, face dug and hidden in the center of your back between your shoulder blades. His cock twitched empty inside of you, and your combined wetness definitely must have soaked the couch by now. You mentally cursed him.
“He fell asleep?” Marcus asked as he passed by, heading to the lockers. Josh wandered over and hovered behind the couch, eyes glued to the screen. The intro had just started to play again, another episode must have started while you were… preoccupied.
“Yeah, must’ve.” You spoke out awkwardly. Praying that Josh would grow disinterested and leave. Marcus slammed shut a locker and slung his bag back over his chest. He headed to the bottom of the stairs again.
“Night then.” He mumbled with a yawn and lazy wave. You waved back with a small smile, “See you tomorrow.”
He jogged up the stairs and Josh groaned and rolled his eyes at something on the TV. You tipped your head back to look at him and Wrench’s breath grew steady as he came down. His body relaxed and he slowly started to soften inside of you- the loss of pressure you were thankful for.. the mess that followed and seeped out of you- not so much.
“Josh!” Marcus shouted from the top of the stairs. “You coming bro?” He asked, and Josh slowly started to retreat. Wordlessly they left, and the door clicked shut after them.
Wrench let out an irritated groan, flinging the blanket off and lifting you up and off him so he could slide out of you. You clenched from the loss of contact and settled down across the couch to the side of him. He reached over and pulled a roll of toilet paper out from underneath the couch. You eyed him warily, back resting against the arm of the couch, and legs draped lazily over his thighs.
His cock looked less imposing now, it still hung thick over his abdomen though. A sheen of wetness coated his skin- and fuck did he look delicious.
He groaned and wiped himself off, shoving his half-erect dick back into his plaid boxers. He turned to you to clean you too. His hands were gentle and they worked your shorts back up. You lifted your hips for him.
“That was fucking hot.” He said after a moment. “And scary, but mostly hot.”
You laughed and he tossed the dirty paper onto his workbench, shoving the roll of TP back under the couch.
“How long has that been planted there?” You asked, eyeing the space between the couch and the floor.
He shrugged and flopped down on top of you exhausted. You wrapped your arms across the broad of his back and he nuzzled his face into your neck and chest.
“Gotta be prepared. Y’ never know.”
“Uh-huh.” You teased. “You can just admit it’s your jerkoff spot, you know.”
“Never.” He sighed.
You chuckled. “That’s gross wrench, this is a communal spot. How many times have we sat on this couch?”
“Porns better on the big screen, I don’t know what to tell you.” He finally admitted.
“Besides,” he continued, slithering a palm under your ass to squeeze it. “You’ve dirtied it now too, so you can’t complain.”
You groaned when the realization hit you, you were going to have to clean that up soon- before it stained the already greasy couch.
His breathing grew slow and consistent on top of you. The spikes he adorned poked into your skin through your thin shirt, but you were comfy and your eyes grew heavy so you didn’t mind it too much.
You relaxed and sunk into the couch with another sigh.
Whatever, you thought- that’s an issue for tomorrow you.