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Bored

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It’s one of those hot, lazy Sundays where all you’ve felt like doing all day is sit on the couch in your underwear and watch endless daytime television. Somewhere during your third episode of Fixer Upper he’s slid down to the floor, leaning against the couch between your legs and looking deliciously rumpled in his grey tank and sweatpants. You’ve been idly playing with his hair, loving the way it falls across his forehead and curls around his ears.

“I’m bored,” he announces. You huff a laugh; you’re perfectly comfortable right where you are, with your handsome older boyfriend leaning his head against your thigh. Besides, it’s way too humid to do…well, anything, really. He turns around and wraps his arms around your waist, looking up at you with a sweet, soft gaze and nosing your shirt up so he can place tender kisses on your stomach. You wonder for the millionth time how a man in his late forties can still look so stupidly adorable. Not fair.

“I. Am. Bored.” He punctuates every word with a kiss, caressing your waist, and you shiver a little at the ticklish sensation.

You smile down at him. “So what did you have in mind?”

He lifts up on his knees, placing his hands on either side of your hips and leaning up for a kiss. “I don’t know, it just seems like a waste of such a lovely day,” he murmurs against your lips.

It's bullshit, because the heat clings to you like a disgusting sweaty blanket, but why get stuck on the details? Cupping his face with your hands, you hum into his mouth as he starts rolling his hips a little, tongue pressing insistently as he deepens the kiss. You love the solid weight of his body against yours, and your toes curl a little from the sudden surge of arousal.

One of his hands reaches up and rests lightly around your throat, tilting your head back so he can mouth along your jawline and down, little open-mouthed kisses across your heated skin, followed by that ridiculously big hand of his as he trails lower and lower. He nips along the waistband of your underwear and you close your eyes at the sensation, breath quickening. He lets out a pleased, low sound and you can feel his big hands moving to hold your hips down firmly as he suddenly buries his face in your crotch. Fuck. You know he can feel that you’re already wet through the fabric, and he adds to it by pressing his tongue flat against you. The sudden heat makes you gasp and claw at his arms.

“Let’s take these off, shall we.” He tries to sound flippant, but there’s a rough edge to his voice that he can’t keep out. His hair is already a mess and he's obviously just as aroused as you are. You eagerly lift your hips as he helps you wriggle out of the offending garment and haplessly throws it behind him. You were hoping he’d ravage you right then and there, but frustratingly enough he decides to trail butterfly kisses up your stomach again. You grab his face to press your lips against his in a wet kiss and feel his groan rumble against your chest.

“Get on with it.” He bites his lower lip at your command and presses his hard cock up against you. As he slides down your body he’s smirking, and there’s a mischievous glint in his eye that screams trouble. He raises his eyebrows before grabbing the backs of your thighs and roughly hoisting them up over his shoulders, causing you to slide down the couch, now on full display. He nips and licks at the insides of your thighs but you can tell he’s too eager to tease for too long. He presses a thick finger against your wet folds, making you gasp, and then slides it down to push the tip inside of you before following its trail with his tongue. He licks a soft wet stripe up towards your clit and gently circles around it. Your hips buck up, but it’s not quite enough and he knows it, chuckling as you moan in frustration.

“Fuck you.”

“Hmmm, maybe later,” he says with a too steady voice. Damn him. His finger pushes further inside you, slipping in easily because of his spit and your arousal, and he slowly fucks you with it. You look at him through hooded eyes and his mouth is hanging open slightly as he watches the movement of his hand, mesmerized.

“Fuck, that’s beautiful,” he murmurs more to himself than to you. You can see the muscles in his arm contract as he twists to slip another finger in and you groan at the delicious stretch, silently thanking all the deities you can think of for blessing him with those hands. He tongues another wet stripe against your pussy, and another, and you can no longer keep your hips still. He continues to move his thick fingers inside you as he’s eating you out with abandon.

You’ve been grabbing the edge of the couch cushions but move one hand to the back of his head, pulling his hair a little too harshly but too turned on to care, pressing his face further into your crotch. There’s a strangled noise and when you let your knees fall open you can see that he’s using his other hand to rub against his cock, trying to relieve some tension. This only intensifies your arousal, you can feel it pooling low in your belly and you can’t look away as he ruts up against his own hand.

“Please,” you beg a little too desperately, fingers still curled in his hair as he finally gives you what you want, pressing his tongue to your clit and tongueing it wetly. His fingers are rubbing against that sweet spot inside of you and your hips buck up of their own accord, needing more of that sweet slickness that feels like it’s enveloping your entire body. He stops touching himself to place his hand low on your belly, holding you down firmly as he speeds up the flicking of his tongue. He’s moaning softly and that’s what does you in, that beautiful noise and those lust-filled blue eyes looking up at you wildly from between your legs, hair matted to his forehead.

He raises his head and sucks in a breath. “Yeah, come on baby, there's a good girl,” he manages before pressing a wet open-mouthed kiss to your pussy and you feel all the built-up tension explode at once as you come hard, lifting your hips off the couch and shuddering uncontrollably, whimpering his name as your body melts into the cushions. His eyes don’t leave yours and his fingers are still inside you as he reaches his other hand into his sweatpants, jerking himself off frantically and coming all over himself not a minute later. He looks fucking gorgeous. Ignoring the mess he's made he falls forward, a quiet, breathless giggle escaping his lips.

You gently pet his hair. "Silly man," you sigh fondly, tired but content.

He smirks. “At least I’m not bored anymore.”