[CN] Victor’s Confrontation Date (Eng Translation)
⌚Warning⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 对抗之约, that is yet to be released on the global server! ♡
[Additional warning]: ig it’s not a surprise at this point for Victor’s spicy dates LOL, but yeah, considering the vivid explicitness, if you don’t qualify for the 16+ rating of the game (CN server), it’s recommended that you don’t proceed under the cut~ :>
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【Subbed Video: Date + Calls】
[Heads Up]: WATCH THE VIDEO AKSWKASDN!!! yes do read the transcript version for yk “reading,” but DO WATCH THE VIDEO FOR THE LOVE OF—— 👁️🫦👁️
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【Transcript】
【Chapter 1】
Victor: I advise you to think this through.
Donning a calm gaze, I walk leisurely through the cluster of bushes to Victor, enduring my laughter as I glance at his hands that are restrained behind his back.
MC: I was simply waving my hand just now. How did CEO Victor accidentally “fall into the trap”?
MC: And I have thought this through~ I’m just playing the game. Weren’t you the one who told me to blow off the steam as much as I like?
I gently caress his cheek, and my smile grows even brighter under his intense scrutinizing gaze.
After several months of continuous overtime work, my entire soul was consumed by a desire for vindictive entertainment.
As a way to relax, I found a new type of role-playing game that involves engaging in confrontations with other players. Over the course of three days, the players are to be divided into factions and compete for points by fighting for props inside a manor––
And naturally, Victor was dragged into it by me.
We teamed up with several college couples to form a group of eight. Each couple split up and joined one of the two teams, which meant that I ended up on the “opposing side” of Victor.
MC: Where did you hide your metal name tag? The rules state that you must carry it with you at all times.
Victor: I threw it away.
I narrow my eyes as I look up at him, while my hands don’t stop their motion of feeling around his chest and arms.
MC: Aw, it wouldn’t be fun if you were to do that.
Victor: I suggest you unlock the lock behind me right now.
MC: Well, I suggest you don’t make that suggestion~
Not satisfied with just this, I lift myself on my toes and softly peck on his slightly pursed lips.
MC: I’ll release you when I’ve found it.
Although Victor isn’t very keen on this game, I still concentrate on not missing any corners to prevent him from playing any tricks.
I slow down my movements and half-cling to him, feeling his blazing body temperature and the growing tension of his muscles slowly seeping through the thin fabric.
Shirt pockets, jacket’s inner pockets, back collar… I search through every corner of his upper body and still find nothing.
However, I hesitate for only a second before guiding my hand downward.
Victor: MC.
Victor: How much longer do you want to keep playing?
I deliberately ignore that increasingly intense stare and, with a completely innocent expression, reach out behind him with my hand––
My fingertips slide into the pocket of his suit pants, and I immediately feel a metallic touch wrapped in the warmth inside.
MC: Wouldn’t it have been better if you had told me just then?
Smiling, I withdraw my hand and look at the metal plate with the name “Victor” engraved on it. I then take out my game phone and scan the QR code on its backside––
“Player “MC” has gained 20 points, and Player “Victor” has lost his name tag.”
MC: Hehe, thanks for your cooperation.
I complacently pin his name tag to my chest and pantomime fixing the bangs falling in front of his eyes.
Victor: You wanna win that badly?
MC: When an opportunity presents itself, of course one should seize it.
MC: I joined forces with my teammates to deal with you specially. And as I thought, it was easily done.
This small victory causes me to feel a little smug and elated, but Victor suddenly breaks into laughter.
Victor: [chuckles softly] I didn’t think I’d be so easy to deal with in your eyes.
MC: You can’t say that. I know that Vic gēge(*) is going easy on me. After all, you’ve never been interested in this kind of activity.
MC: It just so happens that this manor is perfect for a vacation. As Pudding’s dad, you should take this opportunity for a good break, “Pudding Senior.”
—
[Tidbits]: (*) as you might’ve already guessed, yes, MC calls him “泽言哥哥” (ZéYán gēge) here, the name MC used to call him when they were kids. For those unaware, when a Chinese girl addresses a boy as gēge (an intimate term of address), if not used to address her own older brother, she’d use it to address her boyfriend~ and the reason it got both Victor and MC flustered the first time they reminisced in Preference SP~ (//∇//)
You can refer to this post for more details: ♡♡
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As I say this, I gently run my fingertips over his chin, then check the time again before turning around and preparing to leave.
MC: The mechanism will automatically unfasten you after two minutes. See you later, CEO Victor!
Victor: Do you know why this game has a fixed time every day?
I’m stunned momentarily, then turn around to look at him.
Victor is shrouded in the shade beneath the tree, lifting his chin slightly. Both his hands are clearly bound behind his back, but he seems to be relaxed, as if he is merely in a dormant state.
MC: Because it’s exhausting to be on high alert all the time, right? We’re all here to have fun, so we shouldn’t put the cart before the horse.
Victor: And do you know…
Victor: What’s the reason behind this game’s three-day duration?
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【Chapter 2】
[Fair Warning in advance]: From here onwards, Victor blushes PRACTICALLY THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE DATE. As tempted as I am, it’s not possible to include over 60+ blushing sprites, so I’m just giving y'all a heads up LMAO~ \(//∇//)\
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With only a two-minute window to escape, I naturally don’t waste that time engaging in confrontation with Victor.
I know precisely what the three-day duration is for–– as long as the game is not over, there will still be possibilities to fight to retrieve our possessions.
MC: [to herself] This man doesn’t take the game that seriously anyway. If I go and stay with him after 5 pm, it should be alright…
As I calculate in my mind, I run towards the meeting point previously agreed on with my team. But before I can spot anyone, I’m dumbfounded by a string of notifications on my phone.
MC: How come both of you lost your name tags?
Qian Er: …my boyfriend! This scumbag! He duped me!
Lei Zi: My wife also totally f*cked me over…
–
[Tidbits]: He is addressing his girlfriend as “my wife” btw haha~
–
At this moment, I finally understand why the game organizers separated the couples…
MC: It’s okay. I’ve got the name tag. Our next step is to reclaim the ones we lost. And for that, everyone needs to work together as much as possible.
Xiao Xin: However, although the game time is from 9 am to 5pm, there is still a possibility of being “converted to rebel” during the break time…
Another boy in the team speaks up in concern.
Xiao Xin: I propose that for these three days, we all should refrain from meeting our partners in private. Otherwise, we will have to watch out not only for the opposite side but also for our own people.
Lei Zi: You’re right. I think if my wife tries to “convert me to rebel,” I’ll easily fall for it.
Qian Er: I’m all for it! The lovey-dovey brain must leave Loveland City!
Xiao Xin & Lei Zi & Qian Er: For victory!
MC: …
Are college students all so competitive these days!
As the three youngsters shift their gazes at me, I feel an invisible pressure coming over me. I blink and immediately raise my hands.
MC: …no problem.
—
In order to firmly adhere to the philosophy of victory, our team members remain together throughout the entire dinner time after the first day of the game.
Victor shoots a faint glance in my direction from afar. And I, encircled by several of my teammates, have no choice but to put my palms together in apology to him.
—
I’ve been unable to find a single opportunity to talk with him all night. After returning to the room, I fiddle with the phone specifically designed for the game.
MC: …I should be able to make calls with this thing, right?
But who knew there would be a knock at the door before I could even look into Victor’s contact number?
Subconsciously thinking it’s the girl from my team with whom I made plans to meet in the evening, I casually open the door without so much as a second thought.
To my surprise, I see Victor’s face instantly appearing in my line of sight. We hold each other’s gaze for a few seconds, and at this moment, the air seems to be stagnant.
The next second, my heart suddenly skips a beat. After nervously scanning the surroundings, I immediately pull him into the room and close the door.
MC: Why are you here?
Victor: Why am I here?
He repeats my words unhurriedly, crossing his arms across his chest.
MC: …hehe, let me explain.
I briefly recap to him our team’s strategy for winning.
MC: Everyone was so serious at the time, so I couldn’t say no.
Victor: I can see that your enthusiasm is no less than that of those college students.
Victor: [sounds so wronged] In order to implement your strategy, it seems like it’d be more appropriate for me to leave so as not to affect your leading-by-example image.
With a smile, I hastily wrap my arms around his neck, leaning in to peck him on the lips.
MC: Don’t leave, don’t leave! You and I came out here to have fun together. And I certainly am very clear on who is more important to me.
MC: I was thinking about calling you just now!
Victor: Really?
Victor’s expression remains unchanged as he snakes one hand around the back of my waist.
Victor: I don’t see any signs of that.
MC: Then you aren’t looking closely enough. Examine more carefully.
Beneath the dim yellowish light, the magnified shadows on the wall merge seamlessly, not leaving the slightest gap between each other.
As my fingertips dig into the back of his shirt collar, I simultaneously take the initiative to meet his slightly pursed, thin lips, softly pecking them twice.
Victor: [blushing + sexy whisper] This little sweetness is not enough.
His voice follows the rhythm of our exchanged breaths and enters my mind, causing everything to slow down and amplify every subtle touch.
MC: Wait, my teammate will be here soon. We can’t let her catch…
A kiss forcefully cuts me off, swallowing up all the unfinished words.
The hot and moist tips of our tongues intertwine with each other. He brands a rough, grainy sensation between my sensitive lips and teeth, bringing a hint of punishment.
I instinctively tilt my head back slightly, wallowing in the haze of this dimness.
In the scorching and stuffy world, there seems to be something gently coming through.
Qian Er: …sis, it’s me, Qian Er. Are you there?
The sound of knocking on the door rings out. I hear Qian Er’s voice, who was originally supposed to come looking for me, coming from outside.
My whole body shudders in surprise. Amidst the powerful predation, I suddenly regain some of my sanity.
MC: [blushing] Victor… she is here.
Victor: [blushing + raspy whisper] I heard it.
His voice is lethally cloying, but his overly scorching lips swim down my cheeks to the tip of my ear, nibbling without the slightest concern.
Victor: [flushed cheeks + slyly hoarse whisper] You need to be careful… we can’t get caught.
He deliberately repeats what I said earlier. But his soft reminder is akin to the coaxing temptation of a devil, accompanied by his heavy breaths that make my world heat up unceasingly.
Qian Er: Are you not there? You wouldn’t happen to have gone to look for...
MC: [blushing + to the girl] …I am here!
With great difficulty, I suppress the gasp that’s on the verge of escaping me. Then I struggle to crane my head and sink my teeth into his neck.
Though the subtle bite marks are not entirely clear, they do elicit a slightly insatiable chuckle from this wicked man before me.
MC: [blushing + to the girl] I was just… taking a shower, so I couldn’t hear you.
Qian Er: Should I come back after you’ve fixed yourself up, then?
The man in front of me slightly arches an eyebrow. And in the next second, he turns even more oblivious as he continues with his bullying. He plants incredibly lingering and gentle kisses, tracing his way up from my collarbones to my neck and upwards.
MC: [blushing + to Victor] You…
Victor: [flushed cheeks + brEaThEs literally into your ear] She said she would come back later.
The arm half-supporting me lifts slightly upwards again, making it even easier for him to lean his head sideways and nibble on my throat.
Qian Er: Sis?
Victor: [flushed cheeks + even raspier, proud tone] You should give her an answer.
My brain has turned into a lump of mush, and I decide to surrender before things escalate any more “out of hand.”
MC: [blushing + to the girl] I’m feeling a bit light-headed from the shower… Sorry, can we talk tomorrow? I’d like to go to bed a little earlier tonight.
I struggle immensely to get to the end of my sentence, and through gritted teeth, I capture a few glimmers of laughter in that pair of dark and silent eyes.
Qian Er: Sis, rest up then~ Good night, sis~
The footsteps outside the door gradually fade away. I clench my molar teeth and firmly grab onto his front collar.
MC: Are you getting back at me for what I did during the day?
Victor: [flushed cheeks + torrid breath] This doesn’t count.
The instigator of this episode blends his words ambiguously into his kisses, with a hint of deep meaning flashing in his eyes.
Victor: [flushed cheeks] Didn’t you just make it clear who is more important to you?
Victor: [flushed cheeks] I merely took your words for it, that’s all.
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【Chapter 3】
The next day, I purposely time my arrival at the front yard of the villa to avoid coinciding with Victor’s.
The other members of his team have already set off earlier, leaving only Victor, who is sitting leisurely on the sofa and flipping through a magazine.
Meeting that toneless gaze of his, I blow him a kiss from the back of the group and happily embark on my journey.
—
Today’s game proceeds smoothly beyond expectations. Relying on Lei Zi’s excellent intuition, we’ve actually found all the individuals who were separately ambushing us in different corners of the manor one by one.
“Player “Zhou Lei” gains 20 points, Player “Zhao Xin” gains 20 points…”
Qian Er: That was incredibly easy… but Lei Zi, your girlfriend’s gaze just now looked like she was gonna eat you alive.
Lei Zi: I’ll just kneel on the keyboard when I get home. It’s not a big deal.
Xiao Xin: Still, we shouldn’t let our guards down. After all, they can still snatch back the name tags.
Xiao Xin: There’s no camera in the entire manor. There are way more blind spots than we can possibly imagine…
While Xiao Xin is gesturing with his hands and contemplating the safest hiding spots on the map of the manor, Lei Zi quietly approaches me from the side.
Lei Zi: Sis, I wanna ask you for a favor.
MC: Hm?
Lei Zi: I have a special solo mission that requires the help of someone from the team... Could you help me?
Upon hearing this special invitation, I immediately perk up my ears with excitement.
MC: Sure! What do you need me to do?
—
MC: That’s odd…
I meticulously examine the surrounding area of the fountain pool, but don’t spot anything out of the ordinary.
MC: The spot Lei Zi said should be here…
I circle the place again, but still find nothing.
The water in the fountain continuously flows outward and forms cascading water curtains that carry the spraying water droplets, creating blooming specs of light under the dazzling sunlight.
I gaze quietly for a long time. Unwilling to give up, I crouch down and carefully fumble around the pool’s perimeter once again.
Suddenly, I inadvertently touch a stone, causing it to tilt slightly–– the water from the fountain ceases its flow in the next second, revealing a set of steps leading to a stone staircase at the center of the fountain.
MC: So it turns out that the stone steps were not just for decorative purposes...!
My eyes widen in amazement, and I walk up to the stone pillar at the center of the fountain, reaching out my hand to search for any special props––
“Click.”
As I watch the mechanism appear once again, the smile on my face is wiped off completely. A rubber ring suddenly emerges on the surface of the pillar, trapping my hand in place!
MC: …?!
Before I can react, a powerful force grabs my other wrist and swiftly flips me over, pinning my wrist next to the rubber ring.
“Click.”
All of this happens within a matter of moments. It’s not until both my hands are bound behind my back that I begin to comprehend the situation, staring wide-eyed at the person who is now standing in front of me.
MC: …how did you get here?
Victor: I’ve been here the whole time. You were just too slow to act.
Folding his arms across his chest, he leans down slightly to meet my eye level, looking at me teasingly.
The alarm bells in my head are ringing frantically, and a strange thought suddenly rushes to my mind, causing me to swallow nervously.
MC: Could it be that you...
Victor: Otherwise, how do you think he was able to locate everyone?
Victor: And why were they all on their own?
MC: When did you talk to Lei Zi…?
Victor: [chuckles lightly] That’s not something you need to be concerned about.
He lifts his hand and presses on something unbeknownst to me, causing the pool’s fountain to activate again.
The cascading water curtain gushes outward, creating a hazy veil that envelops us within. Instinctively, I am gripped by a sense of looming danger approaching in silence.
Victor is in complete control of this series of actions. He first made his own teammates separate, then found an opportunity to make a deal with Lei Zi––
–– and tricked me into coming here.
The manor is designed to allow players’ evasion activities, and as a result, there are numerous concealed hiding spots. And Victor knows me all too well to know that I would be intrigued by these interesting features.
He is too patient a hunter, creating the opportunity to win by striking just one blow, biting the throat of his prey in an instant.
MC: Victor, you duped me!
Victor: This extent of action doesn’t really count as duping someone.
Victor: It’s just a fitting way to blow off the steam, is all.
MC: But by doing this... your team will lose.
Victor: I have no interest in winning or losing this game.
He gently lifts his hand, caressing the “Victor” name tag pinned on my chest.
Victor: And besides, I guess you’re forgetting… it’s only the second day.
Victor: Where’s your name tag?
His dry fingertips glide slowly up my breasts, passing over my neck and caressing my cheek.
—
[Notes]: bruh they really just straight went for “前胸” (breasts)— not even caring to use short/refined phrasing like 胸/心口 LMAO 🙏
—
MC: …pinned it inside the left pant leg.
Victor: [!! elated chuckle] There’s no need to be so honest.
Victor: It’d be hard to find us here, so we still have plenty of time.
The powerful fingertips lift my chin slightly, causing the falling droplets of water to be sprinkled finely, only to have this cold sensation be melted away by the extremely intimate proximity of his breath.
He rubs his lips against mine slowly and deliberately, neither delving too deeply nor drawing back too far.
The unbearable touch feels as if my entire body is being lifted into the air. The damp mist of the water stream spreads around us, bringing our closely pressed skin even closer together.
Water droplets drip down his gently fluttering eyelashes onto my upper lip, then roll along the folds of our lips as they caress against each other, finally entering our intertwined lips and teeth.
MC: …getting back at me… you’re so petty! Evil capitalist…!
Victor has done a full circle and repeated every detail of what I did to him yesterday.
Victor: [flushed cheeks + raspiest of whispers x1] Naturally, the capitalist has to pay back twice the amount.
Victor: [flushed cheeks + x2] Also, there’s only one cat at home, and that’s Pudding.
—
[Notes]: LMFAAOOO THIS MAN!!! For those who didn’t get it– at the beginning of the date, MC addressed Victor as “Pudding’s Dad, Pudding Senior,” suggesting that he is her big clingy cat, which he 110% is LOL. But he “begs to differ” ‘cause as he showed just now, feline it may be, but he is still the beast “Lion” 😩🤣
—
His muffled words are intertwined with my heavy panting, reminiscent of a predatory beast patiently teasing its prey that it has captured.
In the long time that we’ve been together, I’ve become too accustomed to him, and in his tacit acquiescence, I would brazenly play with his “belly” without any reservations.
But he’s never been an indolent kitty.
MC: Y-you propose a term… let’s talk.
Victor: [flushed cheeks + the most seductively provocative of whispers] What capital do you have to negotiate terms with me?
The teasing I capture in his eyes itches me so much that I can’t resist biting him. But this only causes the smile in his eyes to brew even deeper in response.
MC: Just- you- wait.
Victor: [flushed cheeks + chuckles] That vigor is good.
He finally draws a few steps back, then crouches down and finds my name tag with ease.
Victor scans the QR code and affixes the “MC” engraved name tag to his chest majestically. He then turns around after switching off the fountain, preparing to leave.
MC: Why don’t you take your name tag too?
Victor: I’m just leaving an excuse.
Stepping on the stairs, he haughtily turns his head sideways.
Victor: [chuckles softly] So you won’t be too bored tomorrow.
—
Victor and I, in a sense, have returned to our starting line again.
Although we don’t sit together at dinner, we both wear each other’s name tags on our chests, creating an indescribable romantic tension.
Lei Zi doesn’t dare to make eye contact with me all evening, and I don’t wish to haggle with him, either.
—
On the third day, it becomes obvious that the other side has received Victor’s instructions and has grown more structured in their approach.
As the dominant side, our countermeasure is for everyone else to stay hidden till the last moment, while I––
I keep my eyes locked on Victor from afar across the dense bushes, provocatively maintaining a distance of about ten meters from him at all times.
—
Following several pulling and tugging, I manage to hide in a flower house, intending to catch my breath.
However, the next second, there is a rustling sound outside the window. I hear the person with a steady stride approaching, treading on the broken leaves.
Victor: Think you’ve chosen a good spot?
Beneath the hot sunlight, a few flower petals float down from between Victor’s fingers. He grips the railing of the flower window with one hand, while his fingertips insert themselves into the flower’s pistil.
—
[Tidbits]: The female organs of a flower are collectively called “花蕊”/ pistil, comprising of stigma, style and ovary. (!!! yeah reference to that innuendo of “the rose and the white thingie” in the PV)~ 💦🙏
—
His piercing gaze is even more intense than the sunlight, locking straight onto me. Even though clearly we are physically apart from each other, his imposing presence is still palpable.
His slender forearm may have been scratched by the thorns of the bushes, leaving a few glaring blood marks. But Victor remains unfazed, as if it were merely a minor price to be paid in the process.
MC: CEO Victor, aren’t you asking a question you already know the answer to?
This is too foul an approach to entice someone in this way to have them walk right into your trap.
MC: After all, you didn’t want me to run away again, did you?
—
[Tidbits]: MC switches to “您” here, which is the courteous term for “you” in Chinese, amplifying her bitterness LMAO~
—
Victor: The door is right there. You can leave if you want.
He raises his eyebrows, revealing all his bright schemes with unparalleled frankness.
MC: Will that cause too much loss for CEO Victor?
Victor: Unexpected opportunities like this always provide a chance to encounter the next one.
Victor: As long as you consider the aftermath, it’ll be fine.
—
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【Chapter 4】
Deflating my mouth, I tie the gauze on Victor’s arm into a knot, then look around the flower room without making it obvious. Finally, I shift my eyes again to my other party’s cool and collected face.
MC: You sign documents worth tens of billions with this hand. You need to be more careful.
–
[Tidbits]:MC uses “您” (the courteous term for “you”), here too LMAO~
–
MC: Ugh, my plan has been ruined. I wonder if a certain Mr. CEO would be as kind-hearted as me?
Victor: Your little thoughts are almost all written on your forehead.
Victor: Your plan is simply to have those college students hide while you stall for time, and then launch a surprise attack when the countdown is almost over.
MC: Since you were already aware of this, why did you still chase after me?
Victor: [delighted laugh] Because your ruses are enough to make me look forward to them.
An undisguised arrogance climbs up the corners of his lips, and he unhurriedly pulls back the rolled-up sleeve to his wrist. The light in his dark-colored pupils reflects my figure.
This arrogant stance arouses my fighting spirit completely. I compose myself and pantomime leaning toward him.
MC: I never thought CEO Victor would have such a wicked side to him. Shouldn’t it be the prey who is to bite in the first place?
Victor: Whether it’s done at the beginning or end makes no difference. Hunting has always been meant to be a deadly struggle between two opponents on equal footing.
Victor: In the face of a predetermined outcome, the process only enriches the ending.
His fingertips twirl themselves around the ends of my hair, making a circular motion in the air.
I gaze at him for a long time. Then propping myself up, I place my hands on both sides of his head, lowering my eyes to him.
MC: Have you ever considered that doing this would expose you to the risk of me biting your throat?
Victor: I never turn down any challenge.
Victor: Especially when it’s from you.
MC: Is that right?
I lower my head to his neck and, without the slightest hesitation, open my mouth and gently nibble on his prominent Adam’s apple.
He seems to have not anticipated that I’d be so decisive, causing his entire body to quiver instinctively.
I crinkle my eyes and silently concentrate on deepening the mark.
By the time I lift my head, the teeth marks are clearly imprinted on his Adam’s apple, shimmering with a light sheen of moisture.
MC: How does it feel to have someone bite your throat?
The answer I receive is a fiercely wild kiss.
Victor’s hand suddenly presses down, causing me to be caught off guard and collide with his teeth.
All the unspoken words between us are shattered into fragments in the entangled exploration. The rapid breaths entwined with the moist sound of water flood my entire sensory world.
My scorching breaths are constantly being swallowed up by his kisses. But I don’t simply want to sink into this passively. Instead, I stubbornly entangle myself back.
Whether it’s a conspiracy or a bright scheme, when faced with absolute power, you must show your strength.
The palm clasped around the back of my neck continues to exert force, allowing the predator to unceasingly penetrate deeper unchallenged. At the same time, I also step on his thigh and move up a little bit, causing him to release a hot and muffled moan.
My fingertips advance on his chest, and in the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of the phone that has been tossed aside.
14:59.
I kiss him even harder, counting down in my mind––
And just before the number is about to change, I suddenly yank off the name tag on his chest and hold it up over my head.
MC: I’ve won.
—
MC: You cheated!!
Victor: I thought you were very happy and willing to receive my flowers at the party.
MC: This was our team’s reward for victory. And, of course, I would accept the bouquet CEO Victor wrapped for me as the loser.
MC: Besides, this is an entirely different matter––
Even when we return to the hotel after the event dinner, I still can’t stop stomping my feet.
MC: I watched the digits jump to 59 at once. Even if I were to say that I counted faster, it still couldn’t be more than ten seconds.
MC: You must have paused the time!
Victor: Don’t blame other people as an excuse for your miscalculating the time.
Looking at his composed demeanor, I narrow my eyes and follow him into the elevator.
—
Suddenly, a thought occurs to me, and I press my lips together slyly.
MC: CEO Victor, could it be that you paused the time unconsciously and now feel embarrassed about it?
While speaking, I lean over and peck him on the lips.
As the elevator ascends, the dots of light that shine through the window swirl incessantly in Victor’s eyes. He lowers his gaze and doesn’t say anything.
MC: Still haven’t paused, eh.
Pressing my lips against his warm ones, I kiss him again.
MC: Still no pause.
MC: It seems that it wasn’t unintentional, but rather deliberate––
Victor: [flushed cheeks] You haven’t fully reconstructed the scene in the flower house. So, this doesn’t count.
The patter of rain begins to trickle down outside the window, coating the light and shadow cast on our bodies with a hazy veil. Even our mingled breaths are imbued with the hint of dampness in the air.
MC: Humph, you capitalist! You really never lose out.
Without saying anything more, I lean against the railing and pull hard on his tie knot, yanking it off directly.
Our lips and teeth tightly press against each other as our tongues dance together. I tirelessly explore his territory, leaving my mark on every crevice and corner of it.
The delicate string, as thin as the fine rain, glues our lips together as we slowly separate, panting rapidly for breaths.
The raindrops hitting the glass are reminiscent of blooming flowers, and the world has been rendered silent.
Victor: [flushed cheeks + !!?? lethally raspy, prolonged whisper pouring into your ears] Do you think I did it unintentionally or deliberately now?
His raspy voice sounds amid the suspended light and shadow, a small cloying smile hanging at the corners of his lips.
MC: It doesn’t matter to me. Regardless of whether it’s intentional or unintentional, it shows that you seem to be working hard in my hunting ground too.
I curl the corners of my lips into a complacent smile, satisfied and ready to open the distance between us––
However, before I can, the palm covering my waist firmly holds me in place and swiftly lifts me up, pressing me directly against the railing of the elevator in a flash.
–
A sudden sensation of coldness crawls up my spine, catching me off guard. To find balance, I instinctively arch my waist and cling onto him with both my hands and feet, crashing into his burning hot breath right in front of me.
I frantically search for a point of strength on Victor’s body and grab onto his coat in a tangled mess. A soft chuckle sounds in my ear, and in the next second, the space in front of me becomes even narrower.
And Victor advances another step further toward me, hemming me in completely into the confined space.
Victor: [!!?? lethally raspy, prolonged whisper pouring into your ears but 3.0] Then let me see your hard work too.
“Susurrus——”
—
[Tidbits]: !!! the term is simply “簌—” here (suggesting a rustling noise), and now look at the long ribbon of her dress that has been untied––
—
MC: [blushing] I-I, what else do I need to do? You put me down first…
Victor: [-- 5.0] I see you’ve been very bold these few days, and now you know to be scared?
The bouquet in my hand becomes heavier and heavier, while my high heels are struggling and on the verge of slipping off my toes.
Victor: [soft chuckle + !!?? 7.0 but more dangerous tone like the hunter has you right where and how he wanted] Don’t drop my flowers.
His approaching breath is like bait. As I’m trying to escape in a panic, a warm palm has already covered my thigh, pinning me firmly in place.
The sound of clothes rustling is exceptionally clear at this moment. Gentle kisses spread along my neck all the way to the tips of my ears, and together with his scorching breaths and touches, they surge into my consciousness.
The overly steady elevator quietly erases the traces of time. However, the numbers that change from time to time become the only indicator announcing the flow of time.
“Ding——”
MC: [blushing] Victor, it’s…!
The remainder of my words are crushed between our lips and teeth, and my eyes can’t help but widen. Just as I feel my heart is about to give out, he completely usurps me of the entirety of my sanity——
The elevator door opens, but there is no one outside.
Victor: This is a VIP elevator, and we are the only ones on the top floor.
Victor: Of course, there’s no need to worry about surveillance issues either.
MC: [blushing] You’re such a…
The only response to me is a quiet chuckle. And in the next second, I’m suddenly lifted up and carried outside the elevator.
—
He holds me up skillfully with one hand, not using too much force, yet using just enough to not allow me to drop back on the floor.
MC: [blushing] Put me down!
Victor: Only you would let go of your grip after biting the other party’s throat.
He lifts his foot and steps onto the thick and soft carpet, walking extremely slowly. Each step he takes causes me to descend slightly, and my entire body is practically hanging onto his.
My thighs, which are wrapped around his waist, gradually begin to weaken. But those searing hands of his remain pressed against me.
Victor: Stay focused.
The unbearable rubbing is continuously wearing away at my willpower, and his hoarse voice sounds as if he is patiently enduring a certain emotion.
MC: Next time... I will definitely not let you go.
Victor: You don’t need to wait for the next time.
Victor: I’ll give you this opportunity tonight.
Along with the sound of the door opening, the somewhat dazzling light causes me to subconsciously squint my eyes. In my dazed state, I find myself sinking into a softness.
Victor: [!!??!! INTENSE BREATHING + SIR SLOW DOWN!! WHAT IS THAT NOOISEEE] We can continue our game for a very long time now.
────────────
Calls: here! (important read)~
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i wanna be your lover | joel miller
pairing/AU: 70s!pornstar!joel miller x inexperienced!female reader
summary: miserable after losing your job, your friend drags you out to a club to dance away your sadness. on the dancefloor you meet a handsome stranger, who then whisks you away into his fantasy world as his assistant for his porn career. what happens when the lines get blurred?
warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! reader is 23, joel is in his early 30s, swearing, misogyny (bc of the times™), accuracies and inaccuracies about the 70s, drinking of alcohol, smoking of cigarettes (it’s the 70s alright), mentions of a bad previous sexual encounter and losing your virginity, use of pet names, porn (obviously lmao), sextoys, only one bed, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!), no use of y/n
a/n: i had fun with this one, but it turned out to be longer than i first intended. i hope people will like it still! also big thank you to @dustydaddyyy, for proofreading this
main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3
Under a pink and orange Los Angeles sky, your platforms clicked against the sidewalk. Day left an hour ago, dipping behind the green hills of Laurel Canyon. Walking down The Strip, arms linked with your friend Deborah, the street bustled in the awakening night. Music spilled from clubs and bars, seducing the dressed-up crowd passing by this Friday night.
“Do a little dance, make a little love,”
“This,” Deborah emphasized, coming to a stop outside a club, “is exactly what you need tonight to get your mind off everything.”
She clutched your arm tighter to her body, almost like she was afraid you’d run off, and maybe she had good reason to think you would. You weren’t exactly in the right mood to party. Only a few hours ago, you’d gotten fired from your job. Three years as Mr. Cooper’s personal assistant down the drain.
Mr. Cooper was the creative director, and one of the partners at the advertisement agency where you’d worked. He was an important man, and he’d dealt with all kinds of clients on a daily basis. For you, it had been a learning curve of a job. You had no prior experience as a personal assistant, and it had been intimidating.
You’d only just moved to the City of Angels when you’d gotten the job. With next to no money, having left behind your family and your small town, you were desperate for a job. When you’d seen the ad in the newspaper, left behind on the table of a café near your apartment, you’d stepped out on the sidewalk immediately to find a payphone. During the interview Mr. Cooper had looked you up and down and scowled as he’d read your resume. You’d shrank in your seat under his gaze, but even with your lacking resume, Mr. Cooper had hired you on the spot.
Later, during your first full week at your new job, you’d come to discover why Mr. Cooper had hired you so quickly – he’d been desperate for a new assistant. Overhearing some of the other ladies whispering to each other during lunch, you’d been able to piece together exactly why. Apparently, Mr. Cooper and his former personal assistant had been having an affair. He’d gotten her pregnant and wanted nothing to do with her or the baby – he was a married man after all. This was where the story had gotten hazy, and the grape vine sang different songs. One version of the story said he’d forced her to get an abortion and riddled with grief over the dead baby and their failing relationship, she’d quit her job and moved back to her parents in Maine. While the other version of the story said that, rightfully angry at Mr. Cooper for not taking any responsibility over their situation, she’d gone to visit his wife at home to tell her about what’s been going on. Which story was the truth, you don’t know. What you did know, was that Mr. Cooper was still married, and his previous assistant was no longer working for him.
Even if the job had been intimidating at first, you’d quickly gotten used to it. You stayed on top of everything: Mr. Copper’s clients, his calls, his schedule. Ordered flowers for his wife, and even sent boxes of chocolates to his various paramours. You’d made sure the bar in his office was always stacked with his favorite bourbon, and most importantly: you’d made sure to be seen and not heard. It’s what he told you, in the job interview, that he wanted.
You had thought you were doing a good job, but clearly, Mr. Cooper had been laboring under a different impression…
Your day had started like every other day – normal. You’d arrived at work fifteen minutes before Mr. Cooper, like always. Dutifully greeting him with a sweet “Good morning, sir!” at your desk, and served him his morning coffee minutes later. The day continued like normal, occupied with calls and speaking to clients, you had no idea what shocking message you’d receive at the end of your day.
Outside the club, you gave Deborah a meek smile which faded when you saw the line snaking its way down the street, “Sure, but… we’ll never get in.”
“Get down tonight, get down tonight,”
The words of KC And The Sunshine Band traveled through the open club door, the music filled the warm summer air.
“Don’t worry, babes!” she beamed, “I know the owner.” With an overdramatic wink and a giggle, she pulled you towards the bouncer.
“Baby, baby, I'll meet you, same place, same time,”
“How exactly do you know the owner of this place?” you queried, as you passed through the door of the club while the music got louder and louder.
“Where we can get together, and ease up our mind,”
“Let’s just say we had a weekend together…,” she giggled, “and I got to know him very… intimately.”
Your eyes widened at her implications, and Deborah giggled even louder.
“Don’t look so surprised!” she laughed, “I’m all about free love,” she joked, putting up a peace sign.
A heat burned your cheeks. Still, after three years in LA you needed to constantly remind yourself that you weren’t in your small rural hometown anymore. No one was going to arrest you for talking about sex. Nevertheless, the habit was hard to shake, and the roots of the rules you’d grown up with – the ones that had taught you to be the perfect student and the perfect daughter – stayed embedded in your mind.
“So…” Deborah started, her back against the bar while she took her first sip of her Apple Martini. She’d ordered you some fruity cocktail you’d never had before that she swore you’d like. “What exactly did that sad excuse of a man say to you when he fired you?”
With a scrunch of your nose, you turned your attention to your drink, taking a sip. It tasted sugary, but fresh, one of those dangerous drinks where you couldn’t taste the alcohol.
“Let’s not talk about it?” you sighed, shooting Deborah another meek smile.
She returned your smile, but it was full of pity. “You’re right! Let’s not– Let’s forget that fucker,” she said, taking a generous sip of her drink, “you’ll easily get a new job! I know it!” she smiled.
Not soon after Deborah had finished her first drink, a man interrupted your conversation. The man was tall, with black wild hair, pork chops and a matching mustache. He was wearing a flower-patterned shirt tucked into a pair of brown bell-bottoms. The top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, revealing dark chest hair and a gold chain. He wasn’t bad looking.
His hand on Deborah’s back didn’t seem to bother her, quite the opposite, she jumped excitedly, throwing her hands around his neck in greeting. You couldn’t hear what he whispered in her ear over the music, but it made her laugh.
“This is Tommy! He owns the club,” Deborah introduced you.
With a friendly smile, you shook Tommy’s hand and introduced yourself. His grip was firm, not like those people that made shaking their hand feel like gripping a dead fish. You decided that it was a good sign.
“So– are ya enjoyin’ yourselves, ladies?” he asked with a charming smile.
“Oh, yes!” Deborah smiled, her painted nails landing on his bicep, “But I think we’d enjoy ourselves even more after another drink.”
With a knowing smile and an easy laugh, Tommy ushered the bartender closer. “’nother round for these two beautiful ladies,” he ordered, “and… they’re drinkin’ on the house for the rest of the night,” he added, sending Deborah a wink.
The bartender served you your second drink just as Tommy convinced Deborah to dance with him. Quickly, she downed her Apple Martini before she turned to you, guilt written all over her face.
“You okay by yourself for a little bit?”
“Yeah– sure!” you nodded, “Go have fun!”
With a sorry smile and a promise to be right back, Deborah left you at the bar, dragged out on the dancefloor by Tommy.
Left to your own devices, you still felt a little awkward. This was supposed to be a girls night. Pushing off the bar, you turned to lean your back against it. You bopped your head to the music, trying to not look so out of place. In your hands, your drink was slippery from the condensation around the glass. Out on the dancefloor, the crowd looked like it moved in slow motion through the blinking lights, bodies twisting their hips and grooving to the beat. You took another sip.
It’s a strange feeling, feeling so alone, while surrounded by a crowd of people. To your, a couple gazed lovingly into each other’s eyes as they passed a cigarette back and forth, a ribbon of smoky white, clouded them in a love fog. They leaned closer, sharing a kiss. You quickly averted your eyes, desperate for something else to rest your eyes on.
Instead, they fell on a man.
You locked eyes with him from across the room. Clad in tight denim he sat casually in a booth in the corner, legs spread slightly. His hand was wrapped around a whisky glass, with a cigarette pinched between his fingers. With a shy smile, you quickly looked away again, eyes back to watching the bodies on the dancefloor. You took another sip of your drink, trying to act casual.
He wasn’t watching you, was he? Why would he? No one usually looked at you twice.
You were no good at this. Flirting. You were painfully awful at it to be completely honest. Too shy to be sexy, and never interesting enough, or pretty enough for a second date.
Your experience with dating didn’t really go further than the few dates you’d gone on with John, from accounting. He’d acted so sweet: opened doors for you, held out your chair, kissed you at your doorstep at the end of the night. He had been a dream. Then on your third date, he’d invited you back to his place for a nightcap. One thing led to another, and soon you were laying under him as he thrusted inside you. It was your first time – and he hadn’t known. It had hurt so much; you’d turned your face away so he wouldn’t see your tears. After, he’d called you a cab, not bothering to even kiss you goodbye. In the office the next day, he’d pretended like you’d never even existed: no more tender kisses, no more door opening, no more smiles. Your dream had turned into a nightmare.
He’d pulled you aside during lunch and told you it wouldn’t work out between the two of you. You were just such different people. You’d deflated like a balloon at his words, sinking into your chair as you watched him walk down the corridor back to his cubicle. To make matters worse you’d overheard him say, to some of his colleges by the watercooler, how awful in bed you’d been. It had been humiliating. And now, every time you as much as attempted to flirt with someone, a bell of shame rang in your ears.
The man couldn’t have looked at you. He’d for sure only looked in the direction of the bar. But something burned your cheek, and you couldn’t fight your eyes from trailing back in his direction.
Dark hair and a tidy mustache. Lips pulled up into a cheeky smile as you locked eyes with him again. He took a drag of his cigarette, and the fire lit up his handsome face. You felt something pool in your stomach. His gaze still on you as he exhaled, challenging you with a raised eyebrow. Again, your cheeks burned, and you had to look away. Suddenly, your own platform shoes looked extremely interesting.
“I remember when rock was young, me and Susie had so much fun,”
The sound of Elton John was the perfect distraction from the alluring stranger. You were sure that if you looked back at him again, you’d only embarrass yourself. You always did. Slurping up the rest of your drink, you pushed off the bar, and headed towards the dancefloor.
“Holding hands and skimming stones. Had an old gold Chevy, and a place of my own,”
Moving your hips to the beat you vanished in the bodies. And soon you were “hopping and bopping” to the Crocodile Rock, singing loudly along with the crowd to “Laa, la-la-la-la-laa”.
The air was clammy and stuffy, and sweat clung to your skin, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to care. You were here to leave your shitty day behind. To dance it away. You moved through the crowd; a smile bright on your face while your feet couldn’t stay still. The handsome stranger in the booth, already forgotten.
As the song faded out, a new song faded in. It was slower. A slightly erotic, but melodic guitar filled the room, accompanied by a luring salsa rhythm. You slowed down your dancing. It felt like you were threading through water.
“Ain't got nobody that I can depend on. Ain't got nobody that I can depend on,”
A pair of hands landed on your hips, making you jump. Behind you, you heard the deep chuckle of a man.
“Relax, darlin’,” he whispered in your ear, moving your hips in time with his.
You leaned back against his body; head tipped back against his broad chest to get a look at the man. Your stranger from the booth. He wore a cocky smirk, but he didn’t come across as full of himself. He was confident. Confident in the way he held your body – big hands splayed over your hips. Confident in the way he danced, like he knew exactly what he was doing, and he did.
“Ain't got no one (no tengo a nadie). That I know of (no tengo a nadie). That I can depend on (no tengo a nadie),”
You let him move your body, turning you around to take your hand in his, pulling you closer to his chest. He smelled like cigarettes and cologne. He’d been watching you, you realized, not the bar. Interested enough in you to follow you out on the dancefloor. It intimidated you, but under the intimidation it also excited you.
He led your movements. You were no dancer, but he made it so easy, spinning you around with ease before pulling you back towards his body. The eye contact was intense, like he was searching for your soul. Santana’s wailing guitar and the stranger’s hand at your waist was the only thing grounding you to the moment.
“I ain't got nobody, that I can depend on (no tengo a nadie),”
The song reached its climactic end. The man spun you one last time before he pulled you tight against his chest. It was like the song’s ending had broken a spell over the two of you, the air of sensuality was gone, and replaced by his genuine smile and breathy laugh.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked you over the funky bassline of Eagles’ One of These Nights.
Wide-eyed, “Please,” was the only thing you could utter.
With a hand resting at the small of your back he led you through the crowd towards the bar, where he got the bartender’s attention immediately.
“An Old Fashioned for me Doug, and…” he looked towards you with a smile.
“Um… a Tequila Sunrise?” you said with a shy smile.
“A Tequila Sunrise, for this beautiful lady,” he told the bartender.
Grabbing one of the bar stools he sat down and gestured for you to do the same. You’d just about sat down before he leaned forward, grabbed a hold of your stool, and pulled you closer to him. A squeal escaped you before it turned into a giddy laugh.
“Thank you, Doug!” he told the bartender when he returned with your drinks.
“On a first name basis with the bartender– you here often?” you asked him, taking a sip of your drink.
“Not as often as I’d liked– it’s my lil’ brother’s club,” he told you, taking a sip of his own drink.
“You’re Tommy’s brother?” you wondered with a frown, a little shocked.
“You know Tommy?” he asked, equally shocked.
You shrugged, “Yes– well… not really.”
He took another sip of his drink, eyes urging you to go on.
“I met him earlier– he’s… well,” you didn’t know how to explain it, “I’m here with my friend Deborah, and I guess her and Tommy are…” you trailed off.
“Fuckin’?” he finished for you, grin wide on his face.
You only nodded, swallowing down another sip of your drink.
“Yeah, I’ve heard all about Deborah…” he trailed off with a look on his face like he knew a secret, “… but nothing about her beautiful friend.”
You huffed out a laugh and turned your head, heat traveling up your neck to your cheeks, “I’m not sure there’s much to know.”
“How about your name?” he suggested.
You turned back to look at him, really look at him.
Had Deborah set him up for this?
You wouldn’t put it past her if she had. She was always urging you to go out with her. To clubs, to parties in The Hills, on double dates. You wanted to go, you really did, but a voice in the back of your head always held you back. You’d thought moving to LA would be the remedy. All alone in a big city would surely help you come out of your shell, right? The harsh reality had been that LA hadn’t magically fixed you. You’d thought you’d be a completely different person here, but you’d packed your insecurities in your baggage. The only person who was gonna help you out of your shell, you’d started to realize… was you.
Putting on a brave face, disguised as a friendly smile, you gave him your name. The man was silent for a moment, nodding as he brought his lips to the rim of his glass again, taking another sip of his drink. It made you hold your breath.
“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he said eventually with an easy grin. His compliment sent a warmth to your cheeks, while you fought an urge to squinch your face with embarrassment.
After a second of silence, you raised a brave eyebrow at him, “What about your name? Or shall I just call you Tommy’s brother?”
He chuckled lightly, eyes glinting, before he cleared his throat, “Name’s Joel.”
“Joel,” you repeated with a nod, making his cocky smile wider. Tasting his name on your tongue, you decided it sounded pleasant on your lips.
“So– you’re Deb’s friend?” Joel started, to which you confirmed with a nod. “How come she’s never brought you ‘round before?” he wondered with a sip of his drink.
You gave him a relaxed shrug, “I’m not much of a drinker– if I’m honest.”
He leaned forward, like he was about to whisper a secret to you, “You are aware of the fact that you’re in a club, aren’t you?” he teased.
Your mouth dropped open before you playfully rolled your eyes at him, “Shut up,” you said, “I’m not usually much of a drinker… at least not without good reason.”
“So, what’s the good reason?” Joel asked, raising a single eyebrow, “Boyfriend dumped ya?”
“Boss dumped me, actually…” you corrected, “I got fired.”
Joel sucked some air between his teeth, “Ouch… you better get another drink, then.” He turned his body towards the bar to casually raise a hand, getting the attention of Doug.
You let out a scoffing laugh, shaking your head at his teasing tone, “Maybe I will.”
As you finish your Tequila Sunrise, Joel ordered you another one, and one for himself. You felt hot to the touch. The alcohol coursed through your body like liquid courage, it traveled through your bloodstream, greasing the part of yourself where your confidence laid dormant.
“What did you work as?” he asked, sipping his own Tequila Sunrise.
“I am–was…” you corrected, “a personal assistant.”
“A good one?” Joel wondered.
Taking a large sip of your drink, you tried to swallow down your failure.
“You’d have to ask my boss,” you breathed out.
“The one that fired ya?” he returned with a cocky smile, and you fought an urge to roll your eyes.
Sitting up a little straighter you narrowed your eyes at him, “What do you do, then? If you’re so good at your job?”
“Never said I was good at it,” he shrugged, cocky grin not going anywhere.
“You gonna make me ask you again?” you deadpanned, your shyness shedding with every sip of your drink.
Joel looked amused, like he was in on a secret only he knew. You continued to stare at him, raising a challenging eyebrow at his continued silence.
“I’m an actor,” he confessed.
You couldn’t hide the impressed look that crossed your face. Sure, you’d been in LA for three years, he wasn’t the first actor you’d met, and he for sure wouldn’t be the last, but it was something about the way he said it.
“A good one?” you used his own words against him, making him chuckle.
He took another sip of his drink, “I’d like to think so,” he smiled, looking at you over the rim of his glass.
“Anything I’d know?” you wondered, watching him put his glass down.
The corners of his mouth twitched into what looked like an ironic smirk, “God, I kinda of hope not,” he said, eyes trailing the scratches and dents in the dark wood of the bar.
You both went quiet, as you sipped your drinks. You’d started to wonder if you’d maybe said something wrong, when Joel cleared his throat.
“Not to mix business with pleasure–” he started, turning towards you, mouth twitching again at the innuendo, “but I happen to be looking for an assistant.”
“Oh, really?” you deadpanned, convinced he was pulling your leg.
“You don’t believe me?” he breathed out a chuckle.
“Let’s see: a strange man dances with me in a club,” you held up a finger, “then buys me a drink, then offers me a job? I may not be from around here, but I’m not stupid enough to believe that one.” You laughed with a shake of your head.
As you laughed, it hit you how easily you found it to jest with Joel. Usually, you were the quiet one. The one observing or just listening, always too shy to joke freely, especially with people you didn’t know, but somehow, in this moment you felt free. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was getting fired. Or maybe… it was Joel.
“Well, believe it or not, I ain’t fibbin’… it really depends on how much you need a job,” he took another sip of his drink.
“I just got fired,” you said matter of factly.
Joel gave you an infuriatingly innocent shrug, “Then you better start believing me when I say I’m looking for an assistant.”
You couldn’t do anything other than scoff in disbelief. “So what?” you asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow, “You’re just gonna offer me a job after knowing me for barely an hour? No interview or nothing?”
“Do I need to be interviewin’ ya?” he wondered innocently.
“It’s a job!” you spluttered, “You always interview people before you give them a job!”
He gave you a nonchalant shrug. “Then I guess I will… so what can you tell me about yourself? What makes you a good assistant?” he asked, tone genuine as he placed an elbow on the bar counter and rested his head in his hand.
“I don’t mean now!” you let out in a nervous squeak, and Joel seemed to enjoy the way you shifted nervously in your seat.
He shrugged, “Alright then… you got time for coffee? Say… tomorrow mornin’?”
Ten to ten the next morning you met Joel for coffee.
Wanting to give him a good and professional impression – he could be your new employer after all – you’d worn your brown three pieced suit with a purple paisley shirt under your suit vest. It made you feel strong– well usually, right now you couldn’t seem to shake the pre-interview nerves… Anyway, you were hoping your outfit would make Joel think you had your shit together – at least put together enough for him to hire you.
With eyes scanning the café, you found him at a table by the window, smoking a cigarette. When you approached him, heels clicking against the hardwood floor, he checked his watch.
“Ten minutes early!” he remarked with a grin.
“Reliability and punctuality are good qualities in a new employee, I’ve heard.” You shot him a shy smile before you placed your bag on the floor by your chair.
He hummed, watching you with an easy smile as you sat down opposite him while shedding your jacket. The white smoke danced in front of his face like coiling ribbons. Clad in a striped polo with a Johnny collar he’d tucked into a pair of Levi’s jeans, he relaxed in his chair, shifting slightly, and spreading his legs wider. The movement, like a reflex, drew your eyes to his lower half. His Levi’s were tight, held in place by a big western belt buckle, but it wasn’t his belt buckle that caught your attention.
“So…” he started. His voice startled you, and you flicked your eyes back to his face. His playful smile told you he’s caught you checking him out. Embarrassed, you looked past him, not daring to make eye contact as you fought the urge to cringe.
“How are ya?” he took another drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out the side of his mouth.
“I’m–I’m good thank you,” you gave him a nervous smile, the confidence from last night gone with the rise of the sun, “how are you?”
“I’m good too, sweetheart,” he nodded, “wanna have this interview…? Or should I just tell you now you’re hired?”
Perplexed, your eyebrows met in a furrow, “What do you mean?”
“Honey, I already decided last night I’d hire you,” he grinned with another drag of his cigarette.
“I–… I mean are you sure?” you stuttered, “I brought my resume and references and everything– don’t you want to take a look at them?” you wondered, a hand dropping to your bag to fish out your newly typed resume and references. You tapped the papers against the table before placing them neatly in front of him.
Retracting your hands, you rested them in your lap, while you watched him. He placed his cigarette in his mouth before he picked up your resume. His eyes scanned the paper, his head nodding slightly.
“Graduated high school in 1970… A year as a cashier at Piggly Wiggly…” he started listing, his cigarette dipping with each word, “A year at Greasy Motors?”.
“Um– yes!” you peeped, “It’s my uncle’s garage shop– I worked as their secretary,” you told him, picking at the skin around your nails.
“You any good with cars?” he asked, one eyebrow raised as he took one last drag of his cigarette.
“No–No not really… I just spoke to the customers, answered the phone and stuff like that.”
You’d wanted to learn some of the basics, but you’d quickly given up. None of the guys had taken you seriously, and they had made sure to let you know where your place was – it was not with your hands deep in an engine.
Joel hummed at your answer and stubbed out his cigarette. “And Mr. Cooper’s the one that fired ya?” he asked.
You gave him a short nod. Your pointer finger burned with pain as you pulled at a piece of skin you’d picked loose around your nail.
“Why?”,
“The honest answer?” you sighed, and he nodded.
“I don’t know,” you told him, “he just called me into his office at the end of the day and told me he was gonna have to let me go– I was honestly too shocked to ask him why.”
“Oof,” Joel frowned.
“Yeah,” you sighed, you didn’t know what else to say.
“Well… you’ve given me a great impression, both last night and right now, so you’ve got the job, sweetheart– if you want it.” He leaned back in his chair, letting your resume fall from his hands.
“It can’t be that easy, can it?” the words fell from your lips before you had time to think. Joel raised a curious eyebrow at you. “I mean what’s the catch?”
“There’s no catch.”
He seemed to think about it for a beat, “Unless there is…” Joel’s lips tugged at the corners as he leaned over the table, “Remember I said I was an actor?” he asked, eyes boring into yours.
You gave him a skeptical nod.
“I’m an adult actor…” he lowered his voice, “You understand?” he asked before he leaned back in his seat again.
An adult actor. Your eyes widened with realization.
“Wait… you mean,” you looked around you before you leaned forward over the table like he’d just done, “you’re a pornstar?” you whispered, feeling your cheeks start to burn with embarrassment.
“Is that a problem for you?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Was it? Was it a problem for you?
The question tugged at the back of your neck. Tugged on your childhood, on your upbringing. You’d escaped; had your own apartment now, made your own money. You were trying to come into your own, to finally be your own person.
With teeth digging into your bottom lip, you looked at Joel. He watched you expectantly, head tipping slightly to the right as he studied you. There was no malice in his eyes, and nothing about him seemed grimy or obscene… Nothing about him screamed pornstar. If someone like him could do something so… unusual, for a job, maybe wasn’t so bad.
“No,” you decided, “it’s not a problem.”
“Groovy!” he grinned, “I’ll have my manager draw up a contract for you.”
And just like that you were officially Joel Miller’s, aka the infamous Joel Packer, personal assistant.
Joel sat on the tiled steps outside his house, smoking a cigarette, when you pulled up to the curb. He perked up when he saw you, grabbing his worn leather duffel bag before he waltzed down his driveway.
“Cab for Miller?” you joked through the rolled down window, ducking your head to peek up at him.
He chuckled at your joke, pinching his cigarette between two fingers for one last drag, before putting it out with a twist of his shoe. The smog laid low over LA this morning, like a blanket. It was gonna be a long day, and a long drive.
Letting out a small grunt, Joel got in your car. The smell of cigarettes and cologne – the smell of him – filled the space between you. He twisted around tossing his duffel bag into the backseat, and your eyes couldn’t help but land on his bicep, watching the way his muscles flexed under the weight. You felt a sudden urge to roll down the window a little further.
When he turned back around, the smooth wood of your steering wheel looked extremely interesting.
“Thanks for drivin’, sweetheart. My car’s still in the shop for ‘nother few days.”
The corner of your mouth twisted into a small smile, “No problem, Joel.”
“Are we all set?” he breathed out his question before his hands landed on his thighs with a dull smack!
“Um, yes, it’s just…” you turned to look at him. He was dressed casually in jeans and a Steely Dan concert tee – All-American Tour ’74 – with his yellow tinted pilot sunglasses tucked into his neckline.
“Just what, sweetheart?”,
“I picked up a package for you– it’s in the backseat,” you cocked your head in the direction.
“What is it?” he twisted back around, one hand searching for the cardboard box behind his seat.
Even in the smoldering LA heat, you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks heat up. “Um… it’s your package.”
“Yeah, I got that, honey– but what is it?” he asked again, twisting his hand back and placing the cardboard box in his lap.
You let out a small whine, “Don’t make me say it Joel– it’s your package.” You gestured a hand over your nether region.
Joel looked at you with a mischievous smile spreading across his face, “Oh, now I really wanna hear you say it,” he teased, hooking his finger under the tape.
“It’syourdick,” you said quickly, “–the dildo.”
In another step towards furthering Joel Packer’s success, he’d been asked to model for a sextoy. It’s no surprise he’d been asked. With the women’s liberation movement gaining more and more followers every day, more women had been exploring their own sexuality. Joel was popular with both men and women. He was like a chameleon when it came to porn. He knew just what to give, whether that would be hardcore porn, tossing his scene partners around and making them come until they couldn’t anymore; or doing full frontal nudity for a centerfold for Playgirl.
With a drag of the tape, Joel laughed, his shoulders shaking. “I can’t believe you’re still shy about that stuff, sweetheart. You’ve been workin’ for me for how long now, huh? And you still can’t say dick to my face– what do you say to my business partners? Wiener?”
“I’m not shy,” you denied rather unconvincingly, making him shoot you an unimpressed look making you flutter. “I don’t know… it’s just different saying it to you!”
“Why?” he asked, pulling out the box with the dildo he’d modeled for.
Your eyes followed his hands, running over the pink packaging, the handsome photo they’d used of him on the front.
“I-I don’t know… it just is.”
A smile tugged on the corners of his mouth as he hummed – not convinced. Instead, he opened the box, pulling out the sextoy. The company had sent him one before they’d hit the shelves at the end of the month. They were being advertised in Playgirl first – to build up the hype. The sextoy looked exactly like him, and at the same time, nothing like him. The size and shape were true to life (8 inches like they’d advertised on the box), but the color was wrong.
“This is so fuckin’ weird,” he laughed, turning it in his hand, “’s this what I look like?”
“The color looks wrong,” you pointed out. He looked over at you for a beat and then back to the sextoy.
“’s a little… plastic-y,” he commented, “and weird lookin’ without the balls…”
He put the dildo back in the box before he handed it to you. You shook your head and turned the car key, “Just put it back in the backseat.”
“No, ‘s not what I meant,” he nudged your arm with the box, “you have it.”
You were glad the car stood still because the shock of his words would’ve made you get in a car accident.
“Why?” you said, a little flustered.
“Exactly what do women do with a dildo, I wonder?” he teased, nudging your arm again.
“No, Joel, that’s just weird– you’re my boss.” You nudged him back before you put the car in drive.
“You prefer the real thing, then?” a teasing lilt still wrapped around his words.
“Shut up,” you huffed, focusing on driving instead.
“I’m just messin’, sweetheart!” he laughed and threw the box messily behind him.
Leaning forward, Joel pushed the play button on your car radio. The cassette deck whirled before a twangy sound of piano filled your car as you started cruising down the road. A few seconds later Joni Mitchell sang the opening lines of the title track ‘Court and Spark’.
“I need you in charge of the map,” you broke the silence between you after a few minutes, “I don’t know where the house is.”
He opened your glove compartment, pulling out your map of California. You focused on the road while he studied the map.
“Looks like we need to get on the 101– it should take about three hours, Ronald said.”
You hummed. Ronald was Joel’s manager. He’d represented Joel for as long as Joel’s been in porn. Ronald was sleazy, and gross, and you tried to only be in his presence when it was absolutely necessary. Unfortunately, for you, Ronald was a good manager, and the reason why Joel Packer was as popular a pornstar as he was.
“When we get to Pismo Beach we’ll just stop and ask around for the address.” Joel said, folding the map.
Usually, Ronald was the one who came along to set with Joel. His reasoning being that there was business to attend to, and that he was supportive of his client, but you knew the real (pervy) reason. You on the other hand had only come along to set a few times. Quick to embarrassment, you’d quickly hid yourself away in Joel’s dressing room, claiming you had work you’d neglected to do.
This time, Ronald couldn’t make it because of scheduling conflicts. Joel was gonna go alone, but then his car had broken down on the 405. He needed a ride, and who else to ask other than the person he paid to help him out. The shoot was taking place at a beach house somewhere in Pismo Beach. You’d never been to Pismo Beach before, and neither had Joel. The booking agent had told you it was nice enough and secluded. Perfect for shooting a porno without bringing too much attention.
Three hours later, you and Joel arrived at the shoot. The beach house was busy and filled with people working like ants to get the film set ready. The shoot was scheduled to last for one day, and as the time flew past 10am, you were starting to get short on time.
As soon as you stepped inside, they ushered Joel straight to make-up and wardrobe. Careful not to be in anybody’s way, you took a look around the house. It was beautiful. Newly built, not more than ten years old you guessed, and right on the beach. Warm wood tones lined the walls and floors, and on the ceilings, sturdy beams met in the middle. A leather couch with matching chairs was turned towards the big floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the beach, and a cowhide rug decorated the floor. They’d set up a step ladder by the windows, all ready for the first scene.
You found Joel a moment later in one of the bedrooms sitting, in a chair as he got his make-up done. You noticed he’d already changed into his costume. A pair of overalls with nothing underneath, and a toolbelt hanging from his hips.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he greeted, his eyes trailing your body.
“Hi,” you smiled, “How you feeling? Can I get you anything?”
He looked at you, a pregnant pause passing between the two of you, “No, not right now.”
“Oh, okay!” you nodded, teeth catching your bottom lip, “Just let me know if there’s anything.”
You moved over to the bed where his clothes were spewed across the bedding. Trying to make yourself useful, you picked them up to fold them.
“D’you know if Tess is ready?” you heard him ask.
Tess was Joel’s scene partner for the day, and also his most frequent scene partner. They’d been in more films together over the past years than you could count, their chemistry always electric. Everything they did was just hot, and this time would be no exception. Tess was playing a neglected housewife all alone in her big beach house until carpenter Joel arrived to help her feel less alone with his tool(s).
“Um, no… I haven’t seen her at all– but I can go find out if you want?” you said, placing his folded t-shirt neatly on the bed.
“No, bless your heart, it’s okay,” he spoke slowly, watching the make-up artist pack up her things before telling him he’s all set.
Left alone with Joel he spoke again, “You gonna watch today?”
His question kicked your heart into gear, stuttering along like a teenager who can’t drive stick. “I-I don’t know yet,” you folded his jeans, “… do you want me to?”
You felt him move closer, but he didn’t answer you. Gathering your courage, you met his eyes. He was watching you with a soft look in his eye, a look he’d sent you more and more often lately.
Grabbing your wrist, his calloused fingers like a warm bracelet, he took his jeans from your hand and placed them down next to his t-shirt.
“I’d like that.”
He said it with a smile, and you couldn’t do anything other than nod.
Joel had started to make you feel lots of things lately. Warm fuzzy feelings bubbled under your skin, just like the warmth from his hand on your wrist right now. Joel was a flirt, cocky and confident. Your complete opposite. You weren’t as shy as you’d been at the start of your job, but you couldn’t help but still be shy around Joel sometimes. Especially when he smiled at you the way he was right now, or when you felt his touch on your body.
The first scene they shot was the intro. A cheesy scene where Joel got invited into Tess the housewife’s home. One too many innuendos about ‘tools’ later, you’d slipped away before lunch time to find the catering table, fixing up a plate for Joel and one for yourself. After lunch, the fun began as the director had said.
“Hey, sweetheart?” Joel’s fingers brushed over the back of your arm, getting your attention. You were about to go sit in his director’s chair, to watch as you’d promised.
“Yeah, Joel?” you looked at him through your lashes, your face curious. You tried very hard to keep them on his face, and not to let them wander to the outline of his hard cock through his overalls.
“Could you go get me some lube?” he asked you, eyes pleading.
“Oh! Um–” you nervously perked up, “Yes, of course,” you nodded, turning around yourself on the spot like you were already on the lookout.
“Thanks!” His hand landed on your shoulder, turning you to focus back on him, fingers rubbed over the material of your shirt. He was smiling at you, a small glint in his eye as he took you in. It made something inside you flutter, your eyes eclipsing over.
“OK guys! Quiet on set!” the director called, pulling you and Joel from your moment. His hand fell from your shoulder, a sorry smile draped across his face.
Slipping away, you went on a hunt for lube. When you came back you were met with the deep grunts of Joel as he got his cock sucked. He was fully naked, standing at the edge of the bed with Tess naked and dutifully on her knees for him – pleasuring him to heaven by the looks of it.
“There you go, baby,” he praised Tess, his big hand entangled in her hair as he pushed himself deeper down her throat. “You like sucking cock, don’t you? Like cheating on your husband like the dirty fuckin’ whore you are, huh?”
You knew he was just reading off his lines, but he said them like he hadn’t practiced at all, it was all so natural. Stumbling backwards towards his director’s chair, you sat down. You felt drawn to the scene before you, caught up in the moment, in the sounds of Joel’s moans and Tess’ spluttering around his cock. Never had you allowed yourself to watch him this openly before – it sent an electric pulse to your core.
Tess gave him head for a few minutes more, filth and praises fell from Joel’s mouth as the cameraman dutifully got every angle. Mesmerized by the scene playing out before you, a small pit started to form in your stomach – a mixture of pleasure and… jealousy. You shifted in the chair at the thought of you on your knees for him instead, pleasuring him and pulling those moans from his lips. Wondering if the praising words he told Tess, would sound different if it was you he told them to instead. You didn’t realize how caught up in the sight in front of you until you heard someone call your name.
It was Joel.
Shaking yourself from your fantasy daydreaming, you pulled yourself together. They’d changed positions while the cameraman changed the film. Joel was now sat on his knees on the bed with his cock standing to attention. On her back, he had Tess’ legs parted and splayed open in front of him.
Why was he talking to you?
He called your name again, figuring you hadn’t heard him over the humming of conversation now filling up the set. You hopped off the chair and nervously scurried over to him.
“What’s up?” you whispered. Your eyes were glued to his face, not daring to glide them even an inch downwards.
He hooked his fingers around your thumb. On his face he was wearing the widest grin, “Could you grab me some water?”
His touch sent your brain into overdrive, your eyes blinking around his question, “Y-yes– I’ll be right back.” His touch fell, and you scurried away to find him some water before they started filming again.
Back, and with a bottle of water in your hand you allowed yourself one quick look at his naked body. His broad chest, the way his muscles moved underneath his tan skin. Your eyes raked over his body, down his stomach, trailing the happy trial down to his impressive cock.
“Okay, everybody– we’re all set!” The loud voice of the director made you jump. Joel handed back the bottled water, a rough hand wiping the corner of his mouth.
“Thanks, sweetheart.”
If he’d clocked you checking him out, he didn’t show it. Instead, he got ready while you made your way back to his director’s chair. Tess said something you couldn’t quite catch, but it got his attention. He grinned from ear to ear, a quick look in your direction, before he playfully shook his head at her.
The next scene had you squirming in your seat.
With his head between her legs, Joel used both his mouth and fingers to pleasure her – and Tess was clearly enjoying herself. Her hands were digging into his hair, pushing him greedily down onto her pussy. High pitched, pornographic moans and whimpers escaped her. Joel was clearly enjoying himself too, moaning and groaning into her pussy as he ate her out greedily, making sure to pull every ounce of pleasure from her.
Tess came with a cry, withering breathlessly as she squirmed in Joel’s hold. He held her shaking legs in a tight grip, not letting up his licking and sucking until he’d pulled another orgasm from her. With a breathless laugh she pushed him away, big wide smile spreading as he peppered kisses to the inside of her thigh. You shifted slightly in your seat. An unmistakable wetness had gathered in your panties. You crossed your leg over the other, subtly.
With a tap to her thigh Joel encouraged Tess to turn over. He sat up, resting back on his heels as he stroked his cock languidly. Tess moved onto all fours, arching her back and putting herself on display for him. The camera moved in closer, a watchful eye, as Joel ran a finger through her folds.
“So wet for me, baby,” he said, replacing his fingers with the head of his cock. “This pussy’s been neglected, hasn’t it? ‘s just dying to be fucked.”
He thrusted inside her, burying himself in her pussy, moans and groans falling from both their lips. You felt the air stand still for a beat, before he pulled back and thrusted back inside. They quickly built up a rhythm, skin slap slap slapping, as their moans held the tune. They moved in sync. Joel kept up the pace, hands holding her waist firmly, while Tess met them with a breathy moan. When she gripped the sheets in pleasure, you wondered if it really felt as good as she let on, or if it was all just part of the show.
“Face the camera,” the director interrupted suddenly. He wanted a close up of Tess getting fucked.
Joel slipped out of her, the bright lights catching on his glistening cock. The sight of Tess’ arousal reminded you, and the bottle of lube in your lap, about your insignificancy. Joel quickly slipped back inside Tess, a hand gripping her shoulder as he picked up the pace again.
“Just like that, baby, you feel so fuckin’ good around my cock.”
You felt silly, the reality of what you’d just done settling in. Why on earth would you agree to watch Joel? Pornstar or not, he’s still your boss. Your longing for him to be something else, would never erase that fact.
Disappointment was a heavy rope tying you down. You needed to get out of there before you hurt your own feelings. Sliding out of the chair, you left the bottle of lube. Straightening out your suede skirt, let out a quiet sigh. You didn’t want to look at him, but something drew you to him either way.
You locked eyes immediately, his eyes were dark and intense. He picked up the pace, Tess almost screaming with pleasure underneath him, but his eyes still didn’t leave yours. You couldn’t look away. The world narrowed until the only thing you could see was him.
With a grunt and a firm thrust, Joel came inside her, mouth parted in pleasure and eyes never leaving yours.
Squeezed into a flimsy plastic chair, feet planted steadily in front of him, Joel sat smoking a cigarette by the pool. Ripples of blue swam across his face, before giving way to the soft warmth of the burning cigarette. He looked deep in thought as you got out of your car, a plastic bag of take-out swinging from your hand. You slammed the door shut, jolting Joel from his thoughts. The evening wind softly kissed your bare arms as you walked across the parking lot to the fenced in pool area.
The shoot had run long and by the time it was over, it was late. Joel was tired, and when he’d suggested you stay at a motel for the night, you’d been quick to agree. Watching the darkening sky, you’d started to dread the three-hour drive back to LA – you’d rather wait for daylight.
Situated right off the main road Joel had spotted a Motel 6 with the neon ‘Vacancy’ light humming. With tired steps you’d walked together towards the lobby, and the lady at the desk didn’t look up from her magazine when you and Joel approached. Behind her, coming through the door to the back office, you heard a laugh track.
Joel turned on his southern charm, “’Scuse me, ma’am.”
The receptionist still didn’t look up from her magazine.
“Do y’all have two rooms vacant?”
With a sigh, the woman looked up at him, peering over her glasses. “We only have one Queen left.” She smacked her lips together obnoxiously as she spoke, a piece of gum visible in her teeth.
Joel looked over at you, one eyebrow raised. Crossing your arms over your chest, you didn’t know what to say. If they only had one room, they only had one room. You tapped your foot restlessly, made a face like you were thinking it over before you gave Joel a short but affirmative nod. He watched you for another beat, before he turned back around to say, “We’ll take it.”
The room was nothing much; a queen-sized bed in the middle of the room, two chairs and a table tucked into one corner, and a door leading to a small bathroom. First thing Joel did was find a place to put his bag. You didn’t have a bag, only your handbag, you hadn’t planned on not sleeping in your own bed tonight. Joel, on the other hand, always brought a change of clothes to set. He’d told you once he didn’t like to leave in the same clothes he’d arrived in.
As you closed in on Joel by the pool you realized he was still wearing his clothes from this morning. He’d told you he wanted to shower, so you’d gone out to get you both some dinner to give him some privacy. Now you wondered if he’d even had his shower.
“Hungry?” you asked, putting the plastic bag down on the round table beside him.
He took a deep drag of his cigarette, watching you through a cheeky smile, “Starvin’.”
“The only thing open was the roadside diner, so I’m afraid it’s greasy burgers.”
Joel gave you a shrug as you sat down, “Works for me.”
You ate in silence – sloshing coming from the pool and the cicadas hiding in the bushes, filled the air instead. When Joel finished his burger, and started on his fries, he looked up at you.
“So, what’d you think?” he asked you. You were silent for a second, before you looked down at the burger in your hand.
“Er...” you hesitated, not sure what he wanted you to say, “It’s not bad... meat’s a little dry, but–”
Joel interrupted your train of thought with a deep chuckle.
“I meant the porno, darlin’,” he said, using one of the napkins to wipe the corners of his mouth, “not the burger.” A smile pulled at his lips.
“Oh,” you said, and felt your cheeks fire up in embarrassment. You swallowed, buying yourself some time before you gave him a shrug.
“Was good,” you said, clearing your throat awkwardly, “I’m sure your fans will love it!”
“I wasn’t askin’ about them,” Joel said. His gaze felt like it was piercing through you, “Was askin’ you, wasn’t I? Did you like it?”
Despite the desperate embarrassment firing through your veins, you raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking me about porn over dinner?”
“Fair point,” he said with a nod, “You’re deflecting, though.”
A small chuckle escaped you, a smile tugging on the corner of your mouth as you shook your head and looked away for a second.
“What do you want me to say?” you asked him, looking back at him, “It’s porn, I’m human... of course I liked it.”
Bingo.
You can see from the corners of Joel’s smile that he’s happy with that answer, and he lets out an agreeing hum.
“See?” he said, his tone teasing, “Was that so hard to admit?”
“You’re unbelievable,” you said through a small scoff, pushing your styrofoam container away from you as you fell back in your chair.
“I am–… what was your favorite part?”
He was grinning hard now. He dug a hand in his back pocket, fishing out his packet of cigarettes and his lighter. You watched him with your head tilted, waiting for him to let you off the hook like he usually did. Instead, he grinned even wider, small splutters of breathy giggles making the cigarette dip as he tried to light it.
“Gimmie that!” you commanded, reaching out your hand for his cigarette. With a surprised eyebrow he took a quick drag before he handed it over. He watched you quietly as you took a breath. Savoring the first tar-y breath filling up your lungs.
“I liked the way you…” you took another drag and exhaled through your nose, “I don’t know…” you handed him the cigarette.
“I’m waitin’,” he teased, making you playfully roll your eyes at him.
“Well,” you sighed, “I liked the way you’re so attentive and made sure she’s feeling good even though it’s acting and everything… Even when you’re like throwing her around, all in charge and stuff.” You waved away the words.
“Yeah, well, that is the most important part of sex,” he gave you a look. Suddenly, he was a little serious. “It’s not fun if she’s not havin’ fun.”
“Not every guy thinks like that, you know,” you spoke, “it’s really nice that you do.”
Joel hummed at your words before a comfortable silence fell over you. You listened to the buzzing cicadas and the burning of Joel’s cigarette every time he took a drag.
“And… the dirty talk was hot too– you’re good at that,” you mused after a moment, breaking the silence, feeling comfortable enough with Joel to tell him the truth. He doesn’t judge you about what you think was sexy, and you realized it felt nice to open up to somebody, to let your suffocating shame die.
“Now, darlin’,” you could hear the smile in his voice, “now you’re just strokin’ my ego.”
“I can stroke more than your ego.”
Joel choked on his cigarette, coughing around the smoke before he looked over at you with wide eyes. “Am I goin’ crazy, or did you just tell a dirty joke?”
Your giggle filled the air between you before you leaned forward for his cigarette again. You brought it to your mouth as you impishly shrugged. Inside, you buzzed with a fluttery feeling.
You smiled at him. “I don’t know– you tell me.”
He playfully narrowed his eyes at you, leaning over the table to get a good look at you, “I’m not sure I’m likin’ this… where’s my sweet girl, huh?”
My sweet girl.
Your heart skipped like stones over water, and you had to look away. A smile blooming across your face. You heard him let out a sweet chuckle before he stood from his chair. The plastic feet scraping ever so slightly against the concrete. You watched him as he stepped before you, squatting down to be at eye level with you, his big hand landing on your exposed knee to steady himself.
“She’s still here,” you whispered after a moment. The cigarette between your fingers was burning out, but your whole body felt like it was on fire, a burning spreading from under his touch.
“I know she is, sweetheart,” he whispered back, his fingers rubbing gently over your skin. Joel looked at you with attentive eyes, “I love how shy you get for me.”
Before you had time to process his words, he pinched the cigarette from your fingers and stood to his feet. “Let’s call it a night?” he asked you, offering up his hand for you to take.
Feeling brave, you took his hand. It dwarfed your own, but it was strong, and warm in your hold. You watched as Joel finished off the cigarette, and stumped it out in the ashtray on the table, before gathering up your trash. You walked back to your room, hands intertwined and swinging between you. You couldn’t shake the thought of how you wished he’d kissed you.
Back inside your room he let you use the bathroom first. It was small, and the air was damp. You could see droplets of water clinging to the shower curtain. Joel did shower after all, he’d rinsed the day off into the drain. With no toiletries, you made do with what the motel offered. A bar of soap was sufficient enough to remove your make-up, but you knew your skin would punish you for it later. After brushing your teeth, you stepped back out where Joel waited for you on the bed.
“I’ve got a spare shirt if you wanna borrow it.” He held up his hand, handing you the clean cotton shirt he’d packed.
“Thanks,” you smiled shyly.
He watched you for a beat, his eyes soft, but tired. “And I’ll sleep in one of the chairs– don’t want ya worryin’ about nothin’.”
Shaking your head, you protested, “No, Joel, you’ve had a long day! I’ll sleep in the chair!”
This time he shook his head, a small chuckle escaping his mouth, “No, darlin’, you’re drivin’ tomorrow, remember? You’ll need your rest.”
Your eyebrows met in a furrow. He was right; you couldn’t do the drive back to LA tomorrow on no sleep, but you couldn’t live with yourself if he didn’t get any sleep either.
“Let’s just…” you trailed off, “You’re tired, I’m tired– let’s both sleep in the bed?” you suggested.
Crawling under the sheets clad in only your underwear and Joel’s t-shirt, you wondered if you were being unprofessional. This was technically a work trip. Joel was still your boss. You looked over at him where he sat on the edge with his back turned, fiddling with the alarm clock. Your eyes trailed over his bare back, tan and strong. You knew you could stare at him all night.
It was official: you’d left professional at the door.
Finally, the alarm clock set for tomorrow morning, Joel put it back on the nightstand. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he caught your eyes on his body. It made him smile.
“Joel? Can I ask you something?”
He got under the sheets, his foot grazing against yours as he got comfortable. “Yeah, sweetheart.”
“Can you turn off the light?”
“You needn’t ask me if you can ask me, to turn off the light,” he laughed, “you can just say ‘Joel, turn off the light’.”
You scrunched your face together. This was coming out all wrong. “No, I mean… I don’t think I can ask you my question with the lights still on.”
He looked you over with a warm smile before he leaned over and turned off the light on his nightstand. “There… what you want to ask me?”
Even bathed in darkness, you hesitated to speak. “Um… I guess…” you started, not knowing how to ask what you wanted to ask. You turned over on your back and stared at the ceiling, cursing the return of your shyness.
Joel waited for you patiently to gather your courage.
“How much… of porn, is fake?” you finally uttered.
Joel turned to his side, facing you, “What do you mean?”
“Like… when– when the girls…” You couldn’t say it.
“Come?”, he helped.
“Yeah,” you breathed out, “is that real or… like– do they actually like it?”
“Right…”
Joel thought about your question, “’s hard to say… I mean mostly it’s real– at least in my experience– like I can feel it around my cock or fingers… but everybody has off days, and not everybody can come from penetration.”
Mostly it’s real. You went quiet, silently thinking about his answer as you stared a hole in the ceiling. Not everybody can come from penetration.
“Why you askin’ me this, sweetheart?” He shifted a little closer.
You pulled your hands from under the sheets, resting them over your chest. Your thumb on your right hand found your thumb on the left where it picked at the skin.
“Huh?”
“I– I don’t know… it’s silly.”
“No, ‘s not– you’re not silly, sweetheart.” He shifted a little closer, a reassuring hand falling over your own and stopping you from picking at your fingers.
You didn’t say anything, and you didn’t look at him either. You felt silly. You’d just complimented him earlier about how attentive he comes across in bed, and now you’re asking him if any of it was even real.
“Can I ask you somethin’?” Joel asked, breaking the silence between you.
Nodding your head, you hummed.
“Are you a virgin?”
His question almost made you jump. Suddenly, his previously calming hands over yours felt heavy. A fire started in your cheeks. You were mortified, and it felt crazy. If you were back home right now, you’d be mortified to tell anyone you weren’t a virgin seeing as you were unmarried. Now, with Joel, you felt mortified he thought you were one.
“No,” you peeped. It would’ve sounded like a lie if it wasn’t the truth. “W-what makes you say that?” You finally looked at him, your eyes wide as saucers.
Unconvinced, he gave you a lopsided smile, “How many have you slept with?”
“How many have you slept with?” you mumbled.
“Honey, we both know that I’ve slept with way too many to count.” He said it with a teasing lilt to his voice, and a comforting rub of his thumb over the back of your hand. His small touch was enough to relax you, to bring you back from the ledge of mortification. This was Joel for god’s sake. He would never judge you; you knew that.
“One…” you whispered, “Only one person.”
With a hum, Joel shifted over to lay on his back, but his thumb still rubbed circles over your skin. “So– you’re asking me this ‘cause it was bad?” he mused.
“I don’t know… maybe,” you whispered.
“You don’t know if it was bad– or you don’t know why you’re askin’ me if women enjoy sex?”
“The latter,”
“So, it was bad,” he concluded, before he whispered, mostly to himself.
The silence was back, speaking loudly between the two of you as you both processed what the other had just said. After a beat Joel turned back on his side to face you again.
“Tell me– how bad was it?” He said it softly, a tenderness in his voice you hadn’t heard before.
“It just… it hurt.”
You sighed, and for the first time since the light went out you turned your head to look at him. “John–” your face scrunched up in a grimace as you spoke his name, like you couldn’t believe you were telling him this story. “He worked in accounting, and we were going around, you know? Went on a few dates. He was a sweet guy. After the third date we went back to his place, for a drink. He kissed me– and then we were making out, and during everything I just thought ‘This might as well happen’. I thought I wanted to lose my virginity… and I liked John– so why not. But then he just… pulled off my underwear, didn’t even touch me and… went to town.”
Joel sucked a breath through his teeth, his hand gripping yours a little tighter. “Did you– have you ever had an orgasm?”
You shifted uncomfortably under his question and turned your head back towards the ceiling again. “Yes,” you whispered.
Joel moved a little closer, and you felt your body dip towards him from his weight against the mattress. His hand resting over yours traveled down your arm, and under the sheet.
“By your own hand then,” he said it more like a statement than a question.
You felt your heart beat out of your chest, as something in the air between you shifted. Underneath the covers your body burned. Sucking in a breath, you held it for a moment before you nodded.
“Show me.”
His hand grazed over your waist, fingers dancing over the exposed skin between the hem of his t-shirt and the waistband of your panties. You reveled in it, his touch, his proximity, his gentle kiss to your shoulder. You looked at him, searched his face for any indication that he was just messing with you.
“No? Ain’t feelin’ it?” He’d watched you too, you realized.
He withdrew his hand from your waist, and you panicked, “No!”
He stopped, instead hovering his hand over your body. “No, you ain’t feelin’ it, or no, don’t stop?” he asked you.
You panicked again. “Yes!” you said before your eyebrows met in a furrow, “I-I’m sorry, this isn’t very sexy.”
Joel withdrew his hand from your body, and your disappointment sank like a rock in water, but then he cupped your jaw and you forgot to breathe.
“Forget about sexy, sweetheart,” he told you, a calloused thumb rubbing against your skin, “not that you ain’t sexy– you are, but I need you to relax, okay?”
You nodded, and a smile spread wide across his face,
“Good girl.”
You almost mewled at the praise, and he noticed, a wicked smile spreading across his face.
“You liked that, huh?” he teased, rubbing his thumb softly over your lower lip, “Y’like being a good girl for me?”
You found it hard to think with him so close, breathless when he touched you like this. You nodded slowly; moony eyes fixated on him. Like a reflex, your legs rubbed together under the sheets, aching to relieve the pressure building.
“You’re so sweet, baby– and shy,” his voice was low, like he was afraid someone would hear him. Slowly he leaned closer, pressing the softest kiss to your neck. A quiet whimper fell from your lips.
You felt Joel’s smile against your skin, teeth nipping as he pressed kiss after kiss to your sensitive skin. “You make my cock so fuckin’ hard.”
“Joel,” you finally choked out, a wet patch already soiling your panties.
“Yes?” he took your earlobe in his mouth, gently biting down on it before letting it go. You couldn’t think – at least not about something that wasn’t Joel and his touch.
“P-please kiss me?” you tried, your hand landing on his shoulder.
His breath puffed against your skin in a small chuckle, before he lifted his face from his new home in the crook of your neck. He found your blown out face, watching you with a tenderness in his eye. A beat passed and then he leaned closer, brushing his lips over yours. Your hand on his shoulder followed his neck to cup his face, keeping him close to you. His hand pushed gently at the sheets, revealing your upper body to him. The kiss was tender and slow, your noses pressed together. He pulled you apart and then put you together again. One of his hands trailed along the hem of your – his – t-shirt where he pushed at the fabric, bunching it just below your breasts. You broke apart.
“Was that all you wanted, sweet girl? Just a kiss?” His forehead touched your own, words low and taunting. You slowly shook your head, eyes still locked with Joel’s. His hand moved methodically, trailing down your stomach until it reached…
Your breath hitched in your throat.
“No?” he asked with a teasing grin, “What do you want then, sweetheart?”.
He already knew. His open palm cupped you over your soaked panties, the breadth of it pressing firmly down on your clit. You mewled under him, hips bucking up to meet his hand.
“Nah-ah,” he lifted his head from your forehead, dark eyes boring into yours. “You need to show me.”
Joel had started a dangerous fire inside of you. It lapped at your insides, burned away your insecurities, and replaced them with lust. With a shaky hand, your hand found Joel’s. His eyes were still locked on you – his gaze burning your cheek and branding you his.
“There you go,” he praised, letting you guide his hand up and down your clothed cunt, feeling your arousal seep through the fabric, “good girl.”
You guided him to your clit, pressing the pads of his finger down on it in tight circles. You were so sensitive – on edge since you watched him filming earlier – a small moan fell from your lips.
“Feels good doesn’t it, baby, getting your clit rubbed.”
“Yes…” Joel drew another moan from you.
Your grip around his hand loosened, and Joel took over. With a practiced hand he circled his fingers just right. He started with a steady pace and tight circles, before he put more pressure on your aching bud. He was bringing you closer and closer to the edge, coaxing small whimpers and breathy moans from your lips as you got more and more lost in the pleasure he was giving you.
“Have you ever fingered yourself, sweetheart?” he asked you, dipping his hand beneath your panties. A bold finger ran through your folds, a finger teasing at your entrance.
Your front teeth caught your lower lip, and you had to bite down to suppress a moan. It was hard to concentrate on what he was asking you when he was touching you like that.
“Y-yes, but…” you trailed off, feeling his finger, now coated in your arousal, back on your clit. It made your brain go blank.
“But what, sweet girl?” he pulled his hand from your panties, and you whined.
A wet trail followed him up your stomach. When you made no move to answer, a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Leaning closer he pressed a short but tender kiss to your lips; his mustache tickled your cupid’s bow.
“It’s too messy,” you said when he pulled back, shaking your head.
“Yeah? You’ve got a messy pussy, sweetheart?”
Joel leaned down again, pressing soft fluttering kisses down your throat. When he reached the collar of your shirt, he pulled at the fabric, exposing your collarbone to his kisses. Your hands found his hair, tethering you to the moment.
“Yes,” you whispered, heat burning your cheeks at the confession he pulled from you.
With a wide grin, Joel sat up. His fingers found the hem of your shirt. He helped you pull it over your head, exposing your naked chest to him. Not even a second later he was back to kissing his way down your body, worshiping you with every press. You burned under him, every kiss like a small death.
Shifting on the bed, he settled between your legs. His mustache tickled the skin on your tummy, making you giggle. You felt Joel’s smile against your skin, at the sound of your fluttering laugh. He let his lips brush over your skin, trailing downwards to the top of your panties where he pressed a kiss, teeth pulling at the small bow like you were a present to be unwrapped, before his fingers hooked around the elastic. With a lift of your hips, you let him pull off your panties. The wet spot in the center clung to your cunt, as he peeled them off.
“Fuck,” he cursed, “wanna taste you, baby, wanna taste that messy pussy.”
With his fingers back on your cunt, you jumped a little under his touch. The air filled with a slick sound of your arousal as he ran them through your folds, a finger teasing your entrance.
“Relax for me baby,” he soothed, gently pressing kisses to the soft skin of your inner thigh, “I’ll take care of you.”
Looking down at him between your legs, you let yourself go. His eyes bored into yours. Warmth and lust, and nothing but affection behind them.
You nodded, “Please.”
A wide grin blossomed across Joel’s face as he leaned down, hovering just above your clit. He ducked forward, pressing the softest kiss to your clit, taking it slow and easing you into it with slow licks. You couldn’t help the whimpers escaping you, a needy sound desperate for more – more Joel. He pinned you down with his arm splayed over your tummy, keeping you right where he wanted you, turning you into a withering moaning mess under him.
Joel continued exploring you with his tongue. Changing between flicking and lapping at your clit, circling it just right, and wrapping his lips around it, giving it gentle sucks. He lapped at your folds, the hook of his nose catching on your clit as he tasted you properly. You felt yourself pushed closer and closer towards the edge, coxed by Joel.
Two careful fingers spread you apart, gliding up and down, coated in your arousal. He easily found your entrance to push a finger carefully inside. You felt yourself clench down on him; you couldn’t help it. You were so sensitive and so close. Dropping your mouth open, a breathy moan escaped.
“Oh, fuck,”
Joel hummed against your pussy, the vibrations traveling straight to the coil tightening in your tummy. Slowly, he started thrusting his finger inside, rewarded by a slick sound, telling him just how wet and desperate you were for him. With a moan your head rolled back into the pillow – you were so close.
“Joel,” you panted.
His tongue continued his assault on your clit, and you lost yourself in him. You clamped down on his finger with every thrust. You didn’t know how much longer you could take it. Joel was so focused on you, so attentive, so responsive. Between your legs he drank in every twist of pleasure and whimpering moan.
“Joel,” you panted again.
“You’re gonna come for me aren’t you, sweetheart? Be a good girl and make a mess on my face.” he coaxed.
Joel quickly withdrew his finger to slip in another, and the new stretch had your legs shaking. His tongue circled your clit, sucking it with just the right amount of pressure. Underneath him you squirmed, breathy moans hitching in your throat.
“Oh, god,”
You couldn’t answer him. Couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t take it anymore.
With a silent cry, you came. His strong arm over your tummy held you down, as you twitched against the mattress, legs shaking. You’d never felt anything like this before. A pleasure so all-consuming you couldn’t remember your name, or where you were – only Joel. He helped you through it. His fingers kept up their pace, pads brushing right up against that spot of bliss, as you clenched down hard around them. You gripped the sheets, desperate for a lifeline as you came down.
Joel slowed down his fingers, pressing soft kisses to your clit. Your pleasure turning to overstimulation – now you definitely couldn’t take it anymore. Fragile and sensitive, you pushed him away with a shaky hand.
He let you push him around, his lips finding the inside of your thighs instead, where his mustache teased the sensitive skin. With one last kiss, Joel pulled away. You almost didn’t register the dip in the mattress as he laid down beside you. You were somewhere else entirely, floating away on a post-orgasm-cloud.
“Joel, shit, I…” you tried to speak, your voice hoarse with exhaustion.
“I know, sweetheart,” Joel answered. He pulled you closer, wrapping a hand around you. Slowly, you turned to your side, engulfed in Joel’s embrace.
“D-did you want to–”
You could feel the presence of his hard clothed cock pressed against your ass, but his big safe arms around you told you a different story. He nosed at the back of your neck, pressing fluttering kisses to the skin, making goosebumps erupt.
“No, darlin’, not tonight,” his voice was just above a whisper, the bass vibrating against your ear.
“Are you sure? I-I mean– we can if you want to,” you spluttered. He’d just given you the best orgasm in your life, he shouldn’t have to go to bed without one for himself.
“Not tonight,” he said, pressing a kiss behind your ear, “It’s been a long day– I’m tired, you’re tired… let’s just sleep, my sweet girl.”
“S-should we talk about this?” you asked, your hand slipping into his, pressing it against your naked chest.
“In the mornin’,” he hummed, voice coated in sleep.
With heavy eyelids, you fell asleep in Joel’s arms. The safety of being wrapped up in him, lulled you into a peaceful slumber. The motel bed was hard and uncomfortable, and the pillow thin and flimsy, but it didn’t matter in Joel’s arms.
Morning came too quickly, and with a screeching sound of an alarm clock that pulled you from heaven. Jolting awake behind you, Joel groaned. His hands slipped from your body; the warmth exchanged with prickling goosebumps. You shifted over on your back, watching as Joel turned off the alarm. The beeping stopped, and with a tired grunt Joel laid down back beside you. When he looked at you – his tired eyes glinting – a sleepy smile pulled at his lips.
“Mornin’,”
“Good morning, Joel” you smiled back.
“It is a good mornin’, isn’t it?” he hummed, turning on his side.
You mirrored him, shifting closer and resting your head on his pillow. He snaked a hand over the dip in your waist, big hand splaying over your naked back.
“It is,” you agreed, locking eyes with him.
Rubbing in slow circles, his hand on your back was soothing. You reveled in it, reveled in Joel, in the bliss of being so close to him. You shifted even closer, resting your forehead to his chest.
“You should probably fire me,” you mumbled into his skin, “I’ve been extremely unprofessional.”
A chuckle came from deep inside Joel, it vibrated through his skin, where you felt it under your fingertips.
“I ain’t firin’ my best employee,” he laughed, placing a dry kiss to the top of your head.
You pulled away with a frown, head back on your own pillow. “This is like the cliché of clichés, Joel– sleeping with your assistant…”
In the bright light of the day, you cursed yourself for your late-night moment of weakness. You’ve never done anything like this before. What if this will be all that Joel wants from you from now on? You don’t think your heart could take it if it was.
Joel’s laugh died in his throat, his eyebrows meeting in a frown. “Who said anything about sleepin’ with my assistant?”
Your eyes widened with mortification. Shit. A hand came up to rub at your face, as you sat up, pulling the sheets around you.
“Hey, no, sweetheart,” Joel grabbed at your hand, stopping you in your tracks.
You couldn’t look at him – afraid tears would push behind your eyes. He’s a pornstar, what were you thinking? You were just a girl. A girl to warm his bed for a night. How could you put your job on the line for something like this?
The sheets rustled as he shifted closer, “Please, lay down, I need to talk to you.”
“Joel, I-I’m sorry– w-we can just forget about it– I’ll quit, don’t worry about it– me, don’t worry about me,” you stuttered out, your back still turned.
“I ain’t forgettin’ about nothin’, sweetheart– shit, d’you think I do this often?”
His question made you turn around. He was propped up on his elbow, carefully watching you.
You nodded, and he sighed.
“It’s been years since I’ve slept with someone outside of work,” he confessed, “Shit, I don’t even seek it out, I ain’t interested in it.”
“I-I’m sorry Joel, I–” you started, but he cut you off,
“You’re not listenin’,” he shook his head, “what I’m sayin’ is: I wanna sleep with you.”
Your face scrunched up in a confused frown, “Because I’m someone from work?”
Joel let out a breathless chuckle, “No, sweetheart, ‘s because I think you’re beautiful.”
His words almost didn’t register.
“What?”
This time his laugh is loud and golden, coated in happiness. He pulled at your hand, and you fell, your back hitting the sheets.
“You are…” he emphasized, cupping your cheek, and guiding you back in his embrace. “And you’re a shy little thing, aren’t you? But so smart, and kind, and caring– someone you can’t help but fall in love with.”
“Fall in love with?” you repeated, you couldn’t believe what he was telling you.
“Yeah, sweet girl,” he smiled at you, all teeth, and crinkles around his eyes in the morning light.
“Oh,”
“Yeah,” he laughed, guiding your face closer to his, his lips brushing over yours, “wanna make you mine, sweetheart.”
His kiss stole your breath and twisted you up inside. He licked at the seam, and you opened yourself to him. He licked into your mouth, one arm snaked around your body, drawing you closer, pulling whine after desperate whine from you and stealing your breath.
Landing on your hip, his hand traveled downwards – over the thick of your thigh, and down the inside in smooth motions. He tugged on your leg, pulling it to rest over his hip, his hard cock rutting into your bare heat. His kiss got more desperate; his tongue melded with yours. It was hot, and dizzying and all-consuming all at the same time.
You grinded against him, feeling his hard cock against you. The fabric of his underwear caught on your clit, rubbing it just right, your arousal darkening the fabric. You moaned into his mouth, a desperate need for Joel building deep in your stomach.
With a rut of his hips, he broke away from your kiss. “You want me to fill up this perfect little pussy, don’t you baby?” His hand on your cheek disappeared between your bodies.
“Yes,” you tried to say, but the words got stuck in your throat when you felt the head of Joel’s cock rub up and down your folds. Your heavy breathing, the slick sound of your arousal the only sound in the room.
“Listen’ baby, y’hear how wet you are for me?” he whispered in awe, the head of his cock caught on your clit. You braced yourself with a hand to his shoulder, breathy pants the only sounds leaving your lips.
“You’re desperate for it, aren’t you?” he chuckled. He let go of the grip around his cock, the sound of it slapping against his stomach obscene. A beat later he swiped his fingers through your folds, coating them in your arousal before drawing tight circles to your clit.
Your face squeezed shut in pleasure, your fingers dug into his shoulder. He eased a finger inside, before he quickly pulled out and added another. The stretch of his fingers was easy, your arousal dripping over his knuckles as he thrusted them inside with ease.
You grinded down on his hand, meeting his thrusts, forcing his fingers deeper inside. Always so attentive, Joel curled his fingers where they hit your spot perfectly, just like he’d done last night. A breathy squeal fell from your lips.
“That’s it, sweetheart, let me hear you,” he egged you on.
“Joel, please,” you panted. Sparks traveled through your body, collecting in a pit in your stomach where it coiled in on itself, aching for release.
He curled his fingers again, and hit your spot – his palm snug against your throbbing clit, “Fuckin’ perfect you are, darlin’, so tight and wet around my fingers.”
“Shit,”
He pushed you straight for the edge, your walls fluttered around his fingers. Your panting got heavier, your eyes squeezed shut, you’re so close. Joel chuckled, his breath puffing your face and he… pulled away.
You whined at the emptiness, opening your eyes to see him staring at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.
He cupped your jaw, “Poor baby,” he pouted before he pulled you in for a kiss. You sighed into him, desperate to feel him anyway he wanted.
“Turn around,” he ordered against your lips, his hand letting go of your jaw to tap at the top of your hip.
You did as he told you, turning around in his hold to press your ass against him, feeling his hard cock pressed against you. Behind you, you heard him let out a deep and guttural groan. His hand hooked under your thigh, lifting it to your chest and exposing your wet and desperate cunt for him. You let him manhandle you into the position he wants, trusting him to know what’ll feel the best.
He guided the tip of his cock through your soaked folds coating it in your arousal before grazing it over your throbbing clit.
“You ready, sweetheart?” he whispered in your ear, like a hiss. He lined himself up with your entrance, teasing you, and himself.
“I-I need it, Joel, please,” you begged, a hand clinging to the sheets.
“Yeah? You need it, sweetheart? Need this big cock to fill you up?” he asked, pushing just the tip inside.
“Joel, please, please,” you whimpered, almost a squeak. In one fluid motion he pushed inside, burying himself to the hilt inside you. The stretch of him was overwhelming, but the angle had you seeing stars.
“Ah– fuck,” you cried, your eyes immediately squeezing shut. Your hand searched for his where it held your leg to your chest. You needed to anchor yourself to him, afraid you’d fall apart right there and then.
“You alright sweetheart?” you heard him whisper in your ear, and you nodded slightly, “Feel good?”
“Yes, Joel,” you whimpered, mouth dipping open in pleasure.
Behind you he groaned into your ear, cursing in hushed whispers. “That’s it, good fuckin’ girl, takin’ all that cock inside,” he pulled out nearly all the way, taking his time with it, moving with practiced motions.
“Shit,” you mewled as he bottomed out inside for the second time. Grinding against your ass, he pushed himself as deep as he possible could – you felt him in your fucking stomach, he was so deep.
“You can take it, sweetheart,” he told you, pulling out and thrusting back inside.
Picking up the pace, Joel started fucking into you deep and hard. With each grind of his hips against your ass, with every thrust, he made sure to bury his thick cock as deep inside as he could, angling his cock expertly so the head rubbed up against your spot. Behind you he grunted and moaned in your ear. It was sweaty and hot, and sticky between your legs.
He let go of your leg, ordering you to press it to your chest, as his hand traveled downwards to brush his fingers over your throbbing clit.
“Joel,” you mewled. He pulled a symphony of whimpers and moans from you with every thrust.
“This pussy’s so fuckin’ tight– shit,” he panted in your ear, “You’re so good for me baby, takin’ that cock so well.”
His fingers pressed down on your clit, drawing tight circles, pushing you towards the edge of bliss. You squirmed against him, hips meeting his with every thrust as you start to chase your fast approaching orgasm.
“Need you to come for me, sweetheart– squeeze that cock like a good girl.”
“Joel,” you cried and let go. Your walls fluttered around his cock as you came, back arching off his chest, as your body squirmed and shook in his arms. Breathy gasps and pathetic whimpers left your lips as he kept up his unrelenting pace, fucking you through it, and prolonging your high.
You were far away. Blissed and fucked out as you came down from your moment of ecstasy. Behind you Joel’s grunts bordered on desperate, as his thrusts started to become sloppy.
“Shit, sweetheart– m’close, so fuckin’ close.”
“Come for me Joel,” you pleaded.
“Fuck,” he grunted as he pulled out.
His hand was on you in an instance, pushing you to your stomach as he turned you around. He knelt over you, fisting his cock desperately. Turning your head, you pushed off the bed to look over your shoulder where you found his eyes, locking them with his. Joel came with a guttural moan, the muscles in his stomach tightening and loosening as he coated your ass in his cum. It was hot and sticky on your back, feeling it drip slowly down the side of your waist.
“God damn,” he breathed out through a chuckle. His breath was heavy, like he’d just climbed ten stories.
You turned to your side to look up at him properly. He looked beautiful; his hair messy from sleep, broad chest heaving, a content smile pulling at his lips as you gave him a smile.
“Took the words straight out of my mouth.”
i hope you liked this! part two -> here
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