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toiletwipes · 2 years

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COCKWARMING/HUMAN • DAY TEN OF KINKTOBER

Summary: A college, Halloween town and you've gone dressed as absolute bare minimum. But all you're wearing is thigh highs and an incredibly long button down. It catches the pretty boy's attention. Nice going, harlot. It's a win for you considering you have a thing for pretty boys.

Word Count: ~1.7k words

Character: George

Warning: its in a public place but george is nice enough not to be a dick and also its consensual but youre both drunk so. keep that in mind.

Kinktober Masterlist

tag list: @oyakuya@ruminationnn@despicablenotions@grrrlsagainsthumanity@wolfie-doggo@boiled-onionrings@struggling-with-time@midnighthasstruck@modx-reborn@dreamwvrld

This boy had been too pretty to avoid, your eyes always seeking him out whether you could hold it back or not. Tonight was no different.

Someone popular on campus was friends with someone rich and that’s how you’re sipping on something expensive while sitting by yourself at a party. You still had work to do. But it’s Halloween, so you relented, did as much as you could until your friends had to drag you away from the computer and sat you down at a vanity.

Your friends, all giggly from the pre-game shots, took turns dabbing brushes with products on the bristles onto your face, the sturdiest hand of the four of them drew soft wings on your eyelids. Accentuating the smokey eye bestowed upon you, courtesy of the cosmetology major. And yet, as soon as the party was underway and you had a drink in your hand while trying to get out of the most boring conversation ever with someone who was hardly your type- they all abandoned you.

Then the pretty boy of the campus had walked in. George. Everyone loved George, in spite of his quiet personality, he was all wide smiles and genuine banter. Plus the scruff on his chin and somewhat lean body, he was easy on the eyes.

Definitely a sight for sore ones, too.

You didn’t hold the staring back, taking a sip from your blue solo cup and he turned his head, making direct eye contact. His shoulders roll back as he twists his neck back and forth. Tossing a few words over his shoulder, he kept an eye on you.

It probably didn’t help that you’re wearing somebody’s white button down and hardly anything else. You’re not sure whose idea it had been in the first place but nobody was complaining too much. You certainly didn’t care that much. Might be that much easier.

Squeezing your thighs, you avert your eyes, trying to have some dignity, while half-naked while also at a Halloween party. Trying is the key word.

“I’ve seen you somewhere, but I can’t remember where-” George comes towards you, having already started the conversation for you, how considerate. You smile behind the lip of the cup.

“I have been told I have one of those faces. I definitely would have remembered your face, though.” You respond, leaning back into your seat and holding it away from your mouth, aware that your oversized shirt slid higher on your thighs. With the way he kept his eyes there, tongue darting out of his mouth to wet his lips tells you all you need to know.

He was also aware.

“But what’s a boy like you doing out here? I’m sure there are better parties happening tonight,” your head tilts, curious to hear his answer. You already had a hunch.

His smile is wide, naturally so with his mouth. His wide mouth. You can’t look away from there. “My friends are throwing the party, thought it would be nice to drop by and grace everyone with my presence.”

“Glad you did.” You smile back, leaning forward a little to put the drink on the table in front of your knees, he leans closer to your personal space, eyes refusing to move from your figure. The way your legs crossed, the way you didn’t care what the shirt showed the world. “It was starting to get boring.”

“You’re confident for someone who’s not wearing underwear,” he comments, taking a sip from his own cup.

Of course, ice filled your veins but you knew better than to give in.

“Don’t I have to be? Keep their eyes on me to make sure they miss the show below?” And yeah, not your best line, you’re cringing at how awful it was inside your head, but his smile gets bigger somehow, reaching past his eyes. A laugh pulled out of him as if he wasn’t trying to suppress it.

“What’s your name by the way?” He asks, an arm coming up on the couch’s edge behind him, leaning his temple on a relaxed palm. Your heart sits in your throat, but you’re floating on a nice high, wanting to shake it right out of George, whatever he’d done to you. You lean closer with a tiny smile of your own and tell him, “whatever you want it to be, baby.”

His smile doesn’t leave, it’s his eyes that dart from your gaze to your lips, seeing the way you’d bitten it, the way your tongue swiped off the mint gloss from the beginning of the night. The way you looked only at him.

“How do you feel about doing something crazy?” He asks, a hand reaching out to mess with the buttons of your shirt. You don’t look away from his face. Smile still wide on his face. Couldn’t even see the pupils in his eyes, but you’re not too caught up in that. You can’t get over the way his stare made you feel.

“What do you have in mind?” And from the way his eyes managed to light up even more, you wanted to know everything about him.

He takes your hand into his warm grasp and he stands up, staring into your eyes the entire time. Squeezing your fingers, he leads you away from the main chaotic crowd.

You’re biting gasps down, burying your head into the crook of George’s neck with your legs straddling his waist. Feeling way too hot with the way this blanket had been draped over you. “I know what it’s like to be clingy while drunk but are you sure you’re okay George, I mean-” you heard your friends clamor around him while you pretended to be sleepy and tired and clingy on the prettiest boy you ever seen.

You can also hear the whoops and hollers of the boys playing some game on the new Xbox, feel the vibrations from George’s casual laugh. He waves them off. He doesn’t mind, he tells them. And being pressed up so close against him, chest to chest, you were addicted to the way you could feel him. Loved the way he spoke. Loved hearing him speak too. Adored the way he wrapped an arm around your back over the blanket. Liked the way he told them that he’d make sure I get home safe too.

If you had it your way, you would be going home with him. Hopefully. Maybe.

But you had to get past this.

Past this moment where his cock is buried inside you and you’re completely surrounded and it’s fucking hard to do it when he adjusts you every other second. Where you are completely at his mercy.

He could rip the blanket away, give the guys a show as he forces you to bounce you on his cock, hands pulling your cheeks away so they can all get a look. (Oh the thought makes you clench around him, feeling every curve and vein on him. You can feel the sharp intake he does, feeling both of your hearts race faster and faster.) But he doesn’t do that. Doesn’t even hint that there’s anything wrong with you. Just a sleepy drunk who happened to drape themself on him.

When your friends take the hint and leave, all patting your head and saying goodnight, he wraps his arms tighter, leaning his cheek against the back of yours. You feel so full, he barely stretched you beforehand. Slipping a finger inside of you after you lathered it with your spit, he barely had a moment to think when he heard people approaching. And because the two of you liked crazy, you had to bite into his neck when his head popped inside of you, whining quietly to yourself. And then the guys emerged from the staircase.

And it leads you to now, where he keeps moving his hips every now and then, holding you close and keeping the kind and considerate friend facade up.

It leads to the moment where the group playing the game, they heard some commotion happening outside, a fight maybe, and although you’ve definitely seen George run to watch a fight, he declines their polite offer to carry you with them. None of them give him shit. All of them leave the upper living room.

It’s quiet inside, not a peep from anywhere in the house. Everyone is outside. And if they’re not, then they’re probably doing the same thing as you were.

George is quick to push the blanket from over your shoulders, helping you unbutton the shirt till it opens without fuss. Not wasting a second, his lips are wrapped around the bud of your nipple, lapping at your chest, holding your back close to him as your head tipped back. It’s useless to hold back any noises you made, moving your hips as you fucked yourself on him.

One of his hands comes to your other nipple, pinching it and switching with his mouth. And it builds, the tightening feeling in your lower stomach, the pleasure blinding your senses until all you could say was his name. A hand grips at your chin, holding your face still as the other hand was tight on your waist, his own hips bucking up at a bruising pace. “Look at me,” he said, with his eyes barely open, but he stares, keeping eye contact with you even after you cry his name. Squeezing around him and losing yourself in his eyes, a few tears slip as you ride out your orgasm, feeling boneless everywhere.

He fucks you through it, squeezing your waist with his hands past the point where you had a faint thought of tomorrow. Tomorrow’s bruises that’ll make your stomach flutter at the reason. He fucks you through his own orgasm, even a little past it, when you knew the both of you were extra sensitive. He pants as he speaks, “you just feel too good to leave, like you were made for my cock.” And though most of your thinking abilities are gone, you couldn’t help the moan that slips past your lips. It was small, but for him, it was enough. Enough for him to tease his cock against your skin, rubbing some of the excess cum on there, on your ass. “Think you can go another round?”

Fuck.

#ktober 22 #c: george #k: cockwarming #hot hot hot #eggplicit #not suitable for minors #k: public #au: college

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