JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY.
↳ JJK MEN: HOW THEY FUCK YOU WHEN THEY'RE JEALOUS
↳ feat. satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, choso kamo, yuta okkotsu
cw: 18+ only, nsfw, overstimulation (f!), dick drunk, orgasm delay (f!), riding, semi-exhibitionism, spanking, teasing, dom! geto, soft dom! nanami, breeding, body worship, pleasure dom! choso, unprotected sex, creampie, marking, oral (f!), fingering (f!), facesitting (f!), marking (f!), geto uses the term "monkeys," degradation (slut) in geto's blurb, ijichi and ino mentioned in gojo's and choso's blurbs respectively,
a/n: the only way to read the title is to the tune of olivia rodrigo's song. also its my first time writing yuta - be gentle.
SATORU GOJO | overstimulation, dick drunk, orgasm delay
jealous of laughing at another's joke
"T-Toru, ngh, please, I can't—" and you're only met with a laugh, his lips pressed against your neck, as his cock continued to fuck you.
How many times had you cum? You had lost count. Your cunt was soaked with your release, along with your thighs and his cock, slipping down his skin as he fucked you hard and fast.
He was relentless, maybe limitless, especially today.
"You can handle it, sweetheart, know this little cunt can take it," he's grunting, as his fingers dig into your plush thighs, "haven't broken this pussy yet," and you couldn't bring yourself to be concerned about the "yet" as he brought you to cum yet again, and you were sure if every word hadn't been fucked out of your brain— it had now.
Your eyes were glazed over, fucked out, as you stared up at him, as only pauses a moment, to press your thighs to your chest, "gonna fuck you right, baby, gotta kiss your womb," and you're whining, and he's only pistoning in deeper, "not so funny now huh?" he's hissing as you grow even fuckin' tighter — how was that possible?
"what are you—" and you whine as his tip grazes even deeper, and you're sure he's somehow fucking your stomach now, "are you jealous of Ijichi?"
"Don't say his name," he gives a particularly rough thrust of his hips to punctuate his point, drawing another squeal from your lips, and yet he's the one who brings him up, "fuckin' laughing at his joke like I wasn't even there. He isn't funny. Nowhere as funny as me!" and you're already close again, tears pooling in your eyes, as you stammer.
Was he really that upset because you laughed at an old friend's bad joke?
"Toru, a-are you serious—" and he's slowing down now to a tortuous pace, as you whimper, "baby, he just made a joke, I was being polite," you can't even laugh at how ridiculous it is with how badly you want to cum.
"Only i'm supposed to see that smile, that laugh," and he's teasing you with the tip of his cock now, dragging it in teasing circles around your clit, "you're mine, mine to make smile, make to make laugh, mine to fuck," and he's fucking you again, bottoming out in one thrust, "say it, baby, tell me who you belong to,"
And your back is arching, throat raw as you tell him just how much he owns you, as you orgasm for the nth time, and he's not far behind, his hot release spurting into your needy cunt, as he fucks it only deeper.
"Toru," you moan again, "Toru, fuck," you murmur, fucked dumb by his dick, as you both come down from your highs, "were you really that jealous of—"
And he only pouts, pressing his lips to yours again, "Don't say his name," and he's pressing needy kisses to your neck, as he pulls out, your mixed cum leaking out, before he's slipping two fingers in, pulling another moan from your lips, "by the time I'm done with you, you won't even remember his name."
SUGURU GETO | riding, semi-exhibitionism, dom!geto, spanking, degradation (slut)
jealous of you talking about someone else
"Princess, you can do better than that," Suguru is clicking his tongue, as you split yourself open on his cock, warm walls squeezing all too deliciously around his already drenched dick, as only whines and pants left your kiss ruined lips, "gonna have to be quieter than that if you don't want someone else to hear—"
He had you riding him in a side room of a temple he used often to collect money, some his other followers congregated in the room over to hear him "preach of the new world." Bullshit that he fed to monkeys that made them full and happy and complacent -- but right now, he had something else that was making you feel so full.
"C'mon baby, ride me like you mean it," he coos, and his hand is coming down on your ass with a mean spank to your already sore ass, heat blooming from the impact, "you certainly had plenty of effort when you were sweet-talking those damn monkeys, didn't you?"
"Sugu, I was just trying to help," you whine, as his hips snap against yours, making you squeal, as he finds his way even deeper into your already fucked out cunt, "I just was--"
"You were flirting," he hisses, as his hands find their way to your hips, forcing you to meet his upward thrusts, as your hands cover your mouth to muffle your moans, "you love this, love it when I fuck you like this, think you want them to see you like this, grinding on my cock like a slut," you whine, but his words only makes your sweet cunt give a telltale clench around his dick, "that's it — you can lie, but your princess cunt can't, baby,"
"Sugu, please 'm close—can't—" and his hands are pulling back, letting you do all the work, and you do, fucking yourself stupid on his cock, the wet squelch of your pussy ringing in your ears — so loud, you can't understand why someone hasn't burst into the room yet— but you can't bring yourself to care, when you're so fuckin' close to cumming.
"That's it, fuck, s'good for me," and he's pulling your hands away from your mouth, letting your moans resonate and fill the room, as he watches a white ring of your cum form around the base of his cock, as he grunts, dick twitching as your walls cream around his cock, "now moan my name as you cum so these goddamn monkeys know whose cock you're bouncing on."
KENTO NANAMI | soft!dom, breeding, hair pulling
jealous of running into an ex
"Did he ever make you feel this good?" Kento's question murmured against your neck, as he presses soft kisses to your neck, dragging his leaking tip against your aching cunt, "did he love you like I did?" And his fingers sneak under your head, making your neck arch as he tugged your hair.
"N-no, Kento, he didn't—"
"He certainly acted as if we were the same," he scoffed at the thought of your ex, the one you had dated before Kento, who had the audacity to approach the two of you today. Catching up with you and even touching your arm, as if your husband wasn't there, even ignoring him, until you introduced him. They had shook hands, and you knew Kento had squeezed his hand a little too hard, but now those same hands were gripping you softly — but firmly.
"He's nothing compared to you you're everything to me," and he's rewarding you with sinking his tip into your needy pussy, "ah, Kento, please stop teasing me," you whine, a noise leaving your throat that you didn't even know you could make.
"You're practically sucking me in, but did you do the same for that bastard?" he's dragging his cock up and down, driving you insane with how your walls squeezed, trying to pull him in, but he resisted every tempting contraction of your sweet cunt, "did you take him this well?" and his teeth graze against the soft skin of your neck, "did he make you beg for him?"
"Only you make me feel this good, only you, Kento, only you make me this needy, make this pussy so—" and he's sinking into you, slowly, torturously, but pleasurably — inch by inch, until he's bottoming out, but he doesn't move, not at first, "please, Kento, please—move—"
And he obliges you, thrusting into you, fucking you in earnest, his cock dragging against your walls with each snap of his hips agianst yours, "such a needy baby," he grunts, "your cunt is trying to hold onto me even as I pull out — is that how much you want my cock? Want me to fill you?"
You're nodding, moaning his name, as you meet his lips in messy kiss, all tongue and teeth, as he fucks you harder, "Look at me, baby," he orders, and your eyes flutter open, meeting his lust clouded gaze, making you all the more sensitive to his touch, "want you to watch me as I breed you," and you're groaning, pussy twitching at the thought, "how're you even tighter?" he grunts, "want me to breed you, don't you? Want me to fill you with my cum? Make you full with my children," and your head is thrown back, voice raw as you can only groan his name again and again.
"Kento, mmph, 'm s'close, can't,"
"Cum for me, baby, let me fill you," he's finding your lips in another sloppy kiss as you cum, hard, walls gripping him as he fucked you through your orgasm. And he's cumming too right behind you, filling your womb with his hot release, "good girl," he murmurs, pressing sweet kisses to your chest, "but if you think I'm done, we're far from finished," and he's pulling out slowly, before gathering his cum that leaked out on his fingers before slipping it back into your still sensitive cunt, "we're not going to be getting much sleep tonight, love."
CHOSO KAMO | body worship, pleasure dom, oral(f), squirting, implied oral (m!)
jealous of a fellow sorcerer flirting
"Cho-so! Nugh, please—" your fingers buried in his black locks, hair ties long since come loose from your tugging — and you're not even sure if you want to pull him closer, or push him away, "i can't—"
"I know you have more in you, my love," he's only murmuring against your sweet cunt, tongue flicking against your swollen clit, "need to feel you flood my mouth, need to taste every inch of you,” he’s re-doubling his efforts, his hot tongue dragging your gummy walls, making good on his promise, “sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted — how are you this perfect? How do I deserve you?” You look at him, nestled between your thighs, his lips and chin glossy with your release, tongue darting out to lick your pre from his lips.
“Choso, y-you do, I love you, only you,” and he’s peering up at you with a lidded gaze — but you see something else besides lust — insecurity lined his furrowed brow, and then it clicks, “you know that Ino was just being friend—"
But he’s burying his face back, fucking your cunt his his tongue, as his thumb teases your needy clit, your words falling away to pleasure.
“It wasn’t just friendly. He wants you. I know the lustful gaze of a man, especially one who wants what I have,” he mutters, as his teeth graze your inner thigh, drawing a gasp from your lips, “but how do I have the right to you? Half curse, half human — what am I really to have the right to be with you?” And then he bites your thigh, pulling a loud moan from your lips, “but I can’t help but want you.”
“I love you, only you, I don’t care what you are. I love everything about you because you’re mine. My Choso,” you manage between pants, as your fingers tug his hair to force him to meet your gaze — make him see the state he’s left you in — utterly fucked out with your chest rising and falling, your eyes glazed over with lust, “please, I need you—"
And that’s all he needs to redouble his errors, rubbing himself on the mattress below him, certainly soaking through his boxers and the sheets.
“Mmph, Choso, please, I’m—“ and his lips latch around your clit, sucking hard, until you squirt on his face, and he’s eagerly lapping up your release, as you moan his name. He’s slurping and swallowing your cum with lips quirked in a smile, his groans and grunts only making your cunt flutter around his tongue.
And he’s pulling away finally, an unspoken question on his lips whether he did well, and your only response is to pull him into a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips, before flipping him over. You kiss your way down his body, as you tug his boxers down to free his erection, tongue grazing the underside, making him groan.
You grin, “My turn.”
YUTA OKKOTSU | fingering (f!), marking, face sitting
jealous of an ex you just broke up with
“Yuta, please—" the last word comes out a squeal, as his calloused fingers tease the crotch of your shorts, a warm heat settling over your skin all at once but all too slowly — like the start of a wildfire.
"I told you I'd help you forget about him," he murmurs, his long and lithe fingers all too skilled, as they snap the waistband of your shorts against your skin, "he never deserved you - you're special, especially to me," and he's pulling down your shorts, until you're kicking them away at your feet.
And this fire had spread far too fast — especially with his fingers teasing your folds through your soaked panties.
“Still thinking about him?” Yuta asks softly, his words soft but not the intent, and he only sighs at your whine, "I'll have to do better for you then," and his fingers slip past your ruined underwear as they tug the fabric down your thighs, making butterflies bloom in your stomach before they surely burst into flames from the fire Yuta is brewing, as two fingers part your dripping folds, "already so wet? I've barely started,"
"Yuta," and he's pausing, as you try to form a sentence, but only comes out as a single word, "more," and his lips quirk into a smile.
"Of course," and he's fucking you open nice and slow, your pre slipping down his fingers onto your hardwood living room floor, "i've been wanting to do this for so long — has your ex ever done this for you?" and you only swallow, whining when he stops, only continuing when you shake your head, "you deserve so much, you deserve the world," and a third finger sinks into you, making you cry out his name, "that's it, love, let me make you feel good."
"Yuta, please," you moan, as his fingers drag against your needy cunt, as he noses the nape of your neck, placing wet kisses along your neck, before his teeth graze your sensitive skin, sucking and licking marks that surely will dot your skin the next day, "ah—"
"Mine," he murmurs, and that makes your cunt twitch around his fingers — god you were so close, so close—and that's right when he's pulling his fingers out.
"Yut—" and he's licking your release from his fingers, before he's tugging you into a bruising kiss, sticking his tongue out to meet yours in a messy kiss, before he's pulling you on top of him, wet cunt pressed against his chest, "what are you--"
"Sit on my face," he says, his pupils nearly completely dark as he meets your gaze, "i want to show you what you've been missing -- how you deserve to be treated," and the blood rushes to your face, as your head shakes no, but he can feel your pussy say yes -- walls squeezing around nothing, "please,"
"Yuta, you don't have to—" but he's unwavering in his gaze, "what if I crush you?"
"It wouldn't be the worst way to go — you know I did have a secret execution scheduled before," and you smack him, but he only catches you by the wrist and kisses each finger, licking your fingertips, sending heat right to your cunt, "let me make you feel good — better than he ever has," and now you realize what it is — it's jealousy.
So you settle above his face, your cheeks burning as you feel his breath warm your aching pussy, "don't worry," and he's helping you ease yourself onto his lips, and right before his tongue drags slowly along the length of your sopping cunt, "you won't remember your name, much less his, after this."
a/n: i just realized i used a similar line in gojo's and yuta's, but y'know what, like teacher like student. what was this? who knows? will i do something like this again? maybe.
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losing your virginity to suguru geto.
pairing: suguru geto x afab reader
words: 3,600
contains: oral sex, virginity loss, fingering, and suguru talking you through it.
mood: soft, sweet, and tender.
author's note: this was one of my favorites to write and i thought i should share it here too! also, let's be friends (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.゚
You wonder what’s so different about this one Sunday morning.
You wake up with Suguru’s body pressed against you from behind. His lean arms wrapped around your torso. His cheek is pressed against the back of your neck, breathing and snoring softly, deeply, down your shoulder. He holds you as he always does: firmly, as if he was carrying you, and yet gently, as if you were fragile.
This isn’t the first time you woke up in his apartment, and it’s not the first time he ever spooned you in your sleep. Yet somehow your body feels warmer than before. And your skin feels more sensitive to his touch. His sweet and woody scent is heavy and enveloping, lulling you into a dizzying state of comfort. Not quite asleep, but not quite lucid and awake.
You feel him shift from behind you. And you feel something press against the back of your thighs. Something hard and thick and warm. Your legs flinch and your heart starts beating faster as you realize what it was. Suguru wakes up from the slightest tremor in your body. He raises his head to look at you with bleary eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice still deep and gravely from sleep.
You turn your head to meet him and smile, “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry to wake you up.”
He nearly melts at the way you’re nestled comfortably in his bed, in his arms. Your smile looks soft and pretty under the ray of sunlight pouring through the window. He hugs you tighter and nuzzles his face against your cheek, your neck. “I’m poking you aren’t I? Sorry.”
You blush and laugh softly, “It’s okay. It’s not like you can control it.”
“Yeah,” he sighs. He points his hips away and lies his head back down the pillow. You feel your chest strain and your body ache from the loss of pressure and warmth. You pull his arms closer, tighter, around your torso like a blanket.
Suguru has always been so careful, so respectful. And so attuned with the ways your body reacts to him. He can feel the way your heart is pounding inside your chest as blood rushes from your heart to your skin, warming your entire body. He can hear the way your breath deepens as a strange sensation overcomes you. Heat. Desire. Lust.
Suguru nuzzles against your cheeks once again.
“Do you want it back?”
You lean towards his face, your voice barely a whisper.
“Yes.”
He turns his hips again to press his cock against you. Then he slides his leg in between yours. You didn’t even realize how badly you were aching for him, until he pressed his thigh against your cunt and relief washes over you. You hum in pleasure against the pillow.
“You need me don’t you?” he asks, as your thighs start squeezing and rutting his own, enjoying each pulse of pleasure against your clit.
You nod, biting your lip in anticipation.
“Okay,” he whispers. “We’ll take it slow, okay? You can tell me when to stop… when we’ll keep going…”
He starts moving his hips, grinding his cock languidly against your backside. You start rutting against his thigh in a similar rhythm. His fingers brush your hair to the back of your neck and start kissing an electrifying trail from under your ear to your collarbone, sniffing your scent as he goes. His lips are a bit dry from sleep, but you enjoy the contrast between the roughness of his lips and the softness of his kisses.
He pressed his hand firmly against your chest, grabbing a handful of your breast. Then it wanders down to your stomach, to your hips, to your thigh. It lingers under the hem of your shirt–his shirt. That you wear each time you sleep in his place. You take his wrist and pull it upwards, letting him touch your skin.
“I’m gonna raise your shirt. Is that okay? We’ll use the blanket if you’re cold,” he asks, with that smooth, gentle voice. As if his words are melting on his tongue.
“Okay,” you sigh. He reaches for the blanket pooled by your ankles and pulls it over you. Then he raises your shirt to your armpits and starts caressing your breasts. You shiver from the lightness of his touch.
“You’re so soft,” He sighs, rolling your breasts with a warm hand. He relishes the way your nipples shrivel in his fingertips. “So pretty…”
He pulls you gently by the shoulder, wanting you to face him. Your lips drift towards his. Suguru hums in approval, parting his lips to let your tongue meet him. He rolls over on top of you and lets the bare skin of your torsos press against each other, seeking comfort in the warmth and smoothness of your bodies.
Every kiss and every touch, even the scent of his skin, the taste of his tongue, and the small hums and groans from deep in his chest rushes straight down your spine and to your crotch. You pull away, forming a trail of saliva from your tongue to his. You look between his legs and notice his head peeking from under his waistband. The slit glistening with pre-cum.
“I wanna touch it,” you whisper.
“Please,” he replies, almost immediately. His voice is shaking now.
He takes your wrist and lets you fondle him over the fabric. His sweatpants barely cushion his massive length and girth. You caress him with a light and measuring touch. Sliding your hands up and down his hardening shaft, then cupping his balls, feeling how soft they are in the palm of your hand.
“What do you think?” He asks, smiling at the way you look at his crotch with lust-drunk eyes, your lips parted as you feel him. “Keep touching. Get used to the feeling.”
“It’s… thick,” you whisper with a mix of fear and hunger in your tone. Your hand sinks past his waistband, grabbing his shaft. His head drops down your neck with a hiss. His hips start to move, fucking your closed fist. His skin feels even smoother and thinner against your palm, textured slightly by the soft veins snaking underneath.
“I knew it,” he hisses between gritted teeth. “I knew your hand was gonna feel this good.”
He motions you to sit on your shin while he lies on his back. He pulls his sweatpants down to his thighs, exposing the thick cock laying heavily over his abs. He takes you by the wrist and wraps your hand around the shaft, just underneath the crown.
“Keep playing with it, baby. Make me feel good,” he mutters as he wraps his hand around your fist and starts jacking. Teaching you to his preferred rhythm and grip. “I know you can do it.”
You follow his instructions, gazing into his eyes as you gauge his reaction. His cheeks are flushed deep red, his eyes glazed over as he bites his lips and watch your hand slide up and down. He reaches towards your waistband and sinks his hand under your panties from behind.
You feel his finger slide between your lips.
“Aah!” You whimper and shudder. Your hand stops moving as he glides his finger back and forth against your slick cleft.
He wraps his free hand around yours once again and urges you to keep pumping.
“Try to concentrate,” he says with a gentle tone. “I’m just making sure you stay wet while you’re working on me.”
You nod try your goddamn best. But his fingers just feel so long, so smooth and slick, as he teases your bud with each languid stroke. You knew that Suguru had some experience, but it was only around now that you realized the depth of his skill. You start twitching and throbbing against his finger. Your thighs squeezing his hand to trap him in place.
“So sensitive. Have you ever touched yourself? At least once?” He asks, a playful smile on his face. He seems to be enjoying the way you struggle to stay upright and still.
“Of course I have,” you reply, pouting. “But it feels different when it’s you.”
“Oh yeah?” He smiles. “Do you think of me?”
You blush and look away. “I mean, who else do I think about?”
You feel his cock spasm in the palm of your hand. He chuckles softly.
“I think about you too. But this feels better than I imagined.”
He slides a second finger between your lips, now drawing circles on your aching clit. You grunt and whine. The ticklish sensation is too dull, too soft, to relieve the ache building between your legs. You look at him and notice that slight, mischievous slant on the corner of his mouth. He knows he’s torturing you. He’s relishing that starved look in your eyes.
Indignant, you bend down and give a soft lick on the tip of his cock.
“Fuck!” He grunts. His breathing grows heavier as you glide a soft tongue around and around the slit. “Hah… Holy shit.”
“Not so fun when you’re the one being teased, right?” You ask.
Suguru huffs and laughs.
“Are you kidding? I love it,” he replies. “Fuck me up, babe. Make a mess out of me. I wanna beg.”
You bite your lip and smile. Emboldened, you bend down and wrap your lips around the crown of his cock and start coating him with your mouth. Absorbing him, caressing him with your lips and tongue. Suguru groans low, his thighs nearly vibrating underneath your palm as he summons all of his will not to shoot his hips up and gag you with his length.
The taste of his dew drop reminds you of all things honeyed and sweet—ripe mangoes, fresh peach, a drop of caramel, enhanced by the delicate saltiness of his skin. His scent is warmer and smokier like burning wood. And somehow thick and sweet like amber. You dip your head down, wanting to taste more. You want to feel his veins against your tongue, his tip on the roof of your mouth, inching closer to the back of your throat. You suck him with eagerness and hunger that provokes his greed.
“Keep stroking me, baby. Suck the tip and stroke the rest,” he mumbles. “Stroke me while you suck me. Please.”
You wrap your hand around the base of his shaft and start sliding in tandem with your mouth. Suguru groans louder now. The balls of his feet digging and dragging against the mattress. His fingers circle harder on your clit, rewarding you with mutual pleasure.
"Mmph… " You hum as you start rutting against his fingers, and his cock nearly bursts from the vibrations in your throat.
“Oh God, wait. Baby–baby wait. Not so fast,” he gasps, grabbing you by the hair to keep you steady. But you move your head faster anyway, your hand tightening and swiveling around his shaft, wanting to drag him to the edge and lose all control.
“Okay–No–stop, stop, stop,” he pants, pulling you upwards by the scalp. He pries your mouth out of his cock with a wet smack. “Don't make me cum just yet. Not there.”
He sits up and slides you down the bed by the hip, pulling your crotch towards him. Suguru sinks between your legs and pulls your panties to the side, peeking like a chef with his pot. Not only have you soaked through the thin, lacy fabric, he can also see the way your clit and your folds flutter and quiver in anticipation. The feel of his heavy breathing alone is enough to make your hips jump.
“All this for me?” he teases. “I’m touched.”
You bite your thumb and grin towards him. Like a child about to be handed a new toy. Suguru pulls your panties off and starts kissing and nipping the inside of your thighs.
“My turn to take care of you, okay?” he asks, his lips seeking permission, hovering so close to your bud. And when you nod, he dives in. Suguru cycles through several techniques, trying to gauge which one you like best–a wide soft tongue, perhaps small precise licks, hard or soft suckling. And once he finds the right brain-blasting combo his mouth becomes relentless. He spreads your thighs and pins them unto the bed, giving him more access. You grasp, white-knuckled, the pillow underneath you. And you release a low, animalic grunt.
“I know, baby, I know,” he mutters before he dives once again. “Just keep feeling it. Feel good for me, baby. You need to be ready.”
“I am ready,” you plead. Every fiber of your muscle begs for release. Your hips begin to squirm away from him, trying to save your pussy from overstimulation. Suguru had to shift his hands and pin your hips down. “Please just-”
“Not yet,” he cuts off. He reaches upwards to hold two fingers near your mouth. “Spit.”
You look at him, bewildered. He commands you again.
“Spit.”
Reluctant, you gather saliva on your tongue and pour it down his fingers. Suguru sinks back down and starts teasing your entrance. Then he slides a finger. And another. Loosening you up with his lips around your clit.
“Does it hurt?” he asks, as he moves his fingers in and out.
You shake your head, “No. But it feels stretched. Right around the entrance.”
“You need to relax,” he murmurs. “Play with your tits for me, will you?”
You nod and slide your hand on the underside of your breasts, rolling them together, teasing your sensitive nipples. You watch Suguru work his lips and fingers on your core. His hair pooling between your legs. His eyes hazy with love and concentration as he makes a mess out of your cunt. Dribbling all the way down his wrist and chin. Eventually, the stretching sensation fades and you feel softer, more malleable, under his touch.
Suguru sits up and starts jacking his cock. His eyes wander over the flushed and dripping mess of flesh he made out of his own girlfriend. Panting as he imagines his cock driving straight inside you. He leans down and aims his tip between your legs. You flinch and look away in a sudden spike of nervousness.
“No, baby. Hey, look at me,” Suguru says with a soft, low, voice, tilting your face towards him. You look up and meet his gentle, earnest eyes. “I love you, okay? It’s just me. You know I won’t do anything to hurt you.”
He starts kissing your forehead, your lips, your neck, your shoulders. You try to focus on your breathing, drawing on every pleasurable sensation you’ve felt before this moment.
“It’s just a new feeling. You just have to get used to me. You just have to get used to feeling this part of your body.” he whispers, as he starts prodding you with the tip of his cock, coating himself with your fluids. “And once you’ve done it… you’ll crave it again.”
You nod, taking in his words. "Okay. I trust you."
"Good. Good girl."
You grit your teeth and whimper as you feel him enter. He thrusts into you inch-by-inch, pushing and withdrawing and stopping as necessary. It hurts. Then it doesn’t hurt. It’s uncomfortable, and then it’s not. You wrap your arms around him and pull him closer to your body, wanting to be crushed by his entire weight. While somehow wanting to push him away. While wanting to strangle him. While wanting to embrace him. To caress him. To scratch him.
He plunges into a place in your body you never realized was there. And more of him keeps coming and coming. Pushing towards an unknown depth you can never reach on your own. But it’s just him. It’s just Suguru. And you know that he’ll always treat you with unrelenting tenderness and soothing. He’ll never hurt you.
You dig your fingers on the back of his neck as you gaze into the ceiling with bleary eyes. Your head spins. You don’t know for how long you’ve been holding your breath. And if he hadn’t held you the way he did, perhaps your soul would have fallen backwards from your body.
“Yes, God, yes. Just take me, please,” he pleads as he kisses your neck. “I’m almost in…”
He leans down and takes your nipple in his mouth. The sudden prick of pleasure drives him further inside of you, all the way in, until he’s buried to the hilt with a long, satisfied groan. Your cunt clenches and quivers, plugged to the stomach by his girth, surprised that you managed to take this much of him.
“Do you feel that? That’s all of me,” he says, caressing your cheek with tender fingers, laughing softly in wonder. “We’re gonna make love. God, I love you.”
He laces his fingers between yours and kisses you deeply. And even the spaces between your fingers are sensitive to his touch.
"I love you too," you whimper. "I'm all yours."
Suguru’s hips start swiveling in circles against yours. Letting you get used to his length and girth. Then he rocks his hips back and forth in slow, shallow strokes. Fucking you with impossible gentleness. Measuring how fast and how hard he can go before you start to hurt again. Like you have all the time in the world. But you bury your face in his neck, biting his shoulder as you take more and more. Soon, you feel even looser, more comfortable, and the pleasure begins to overtake all else.
You start moving your hips in tandem with his.
“Yes, fuck,” he hisses against your neck. “That’s right baby, make love to me. Feel good with me.”
He picks up the pace, slamming his hips against you and nearly driving you towards the headboard. He’s stretching you again, his shaft slicing against your tight entrance. But Suguru angles his cock and jabs a spot underneath your belly that nearly makes you cry. You no longer mind the pain that’s so deliciously mixed with pleasure. And you notice that any coherent thought escapes you, and any words you want to say dies in your throat. You barely have enough air in your lungs to even moan his name. Or any strength in your arms and legs to keep clinging to him. So you simply lie there and feel him. Feel the way he thrusts and sinks into you. Feel his smooth hand on your waist. Feel his breath against your face as he rambles sweet degeneracy into your ear.
“You’re so tight. So fucking tight. Oh, you’re gonna milk me dry,” he mutters under his breath. “A good girl with a good pussy. I’m so fucking lucky.”
You feel the pleasure build from under your belly, on your clit, your nipples. And then you shatter. Your stomach tightens like a board and your body recoils as the pleasure overtakes you. White hot light bursts in front of your eyes and splatter into pinpricks of color. You scream and cry against the crook of his neck. Your pussy clamping around his cock. Suguru hooks his arm under your waist and thrusts even faster; eager to milk himself while you’re still wound up and tight from your orgasm. The pleasure starts to feel rawer, searing like an electric shock. A gradient from pleasure to pain.
“I know baby, I know, just bear with it. Just bear with it for me. I’m so close,” he grunts, face tight from euphoria. “I’m so close, please, let me cum.”
His jaw clenches and you feel a burst of warmth right inside of you. His hips stutter helplessly by the strength of his orgasm. And then it finally stops. He holds still. His hard grunts melt into soft moans and heavy breathing. Together, you hang onto that boneless, satisfied trance; your minds slipping into reverie. His cock stays buried inside of you for moments, but it feels like a part of you now. Even as he slowly pulls away you still feel him under your skin. The feeling of his touch, the warmth of his breath, the weight and thickness of his cock when it dwelled inside you, feels less of a vivid memory. And more of a phantom sensation that will linger for as long as you let it.
Suguru props himself with both elbows and gazes upon you with love and reverence. He plants a tender kiss on your lips.
“Thank you.”
You laugh weakly, “Thank you? ”
He nods. “Yes, thank you. For the memory, for the trust, for the love.”
Suguru brushes your hair away from your forehead and kisses you there. Letting his lips linger. Then you gaze at each other in euphoric wonder. You have melded with him in body and soul. In pleasure and love. Your skins are matted and slick with sweat, and you can feel his semen dripping down between your thighs; the light from the window bears down your heads like halos. You feel anointed and transformed. And your bodies now feel less like a mystery to yourselves and to each other. Everything has changed now. And your relationship with Suguru will never be the same. The memory of your lovemaking will lie in the undercurrent of your every interaction, now that he has untethered a craving inside your minds. That ever-present need to feel this sense of closeness once again.
Suguru nuzzles his face against yours. Holding your bodies completely still as you take a shared breath and bask in the intimacy, in the sacredness, of this moment.
thank you for giving this fanfic a chance!
pls excuse me if the grammar, dialogue, choreography, and narration is awkward. english is not my first langauge and a lot of things get lost in translation inside my head.
originally posted on ao3
art by m_mifmr on x
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just crazy love | joel miller
pairing/AU: 70s!pornstar!joel miller x inexperienced!female reader
summary: joel had hurt you badly, but can you forgive him?
warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! reader is 23, joel is in his early 30s, accuracies and inaccuracies about the 70s and the porn industry, smoking of cigarettes (it's the 70s alright), mentions and drinking of alcohol, misogyny (bc of the times™), readers uncle is a character in this but his name is not mentioned and there's no description of looks, angst, swearing, use of pet names, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, squirting, unprotected sex (don't do it!!), praise kink, some size kink (pornstar!joel has a big dick), soft!dom joel, no use of y/n
a/n: this is part three and the last part to my little 70s!pornstar!joel mini-series. i'm overwhelmed by the love i got on the previous part. i honestly thought everyone had forgotten about the orginal one shot as it had been so long 💀 i really appreciate all of you who's left a comment, reply or sent me an ask! makes my heart all mushy 🥺 thank you to @dustydaddyyy for all the help and for reading through it! <3
main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3
On the way home from set, Joel started to think he’d fucked up.
You were so quiet, quieter than you usually were, and it made him worried. After wrapping his scene with Cheryl, he’d immediately looked for you, but your place in the corner where you’d stood watching was empty. He’d noticed you slip out during his scene but thought nothing of it as he knew being on set wasn’t your favorite, but then you came back, and Joel had found it hard to conceal his happiness behind his acting.
His head had been filled with memories and fantasies, memories and fantasies of you. The look you’d get in your eyes when he kissed you, blown out and wide. The feel of your soft hand wrapped around him this morning, the feel of your wet pussy tight around his cock. The sweet taste of you on his tongue. Shit. You were intoxicating. Joel couldn’t get you out of his head– and he didn’t want to try either. One look at you and those pretty eyes, and he came harder during a scene than he can remember ever doing – no need to fake any groans or moans.
It had been a long time since Joel had felt something so strongly for another woman. It must’ve been his high school sweetheart, he thought, that first teenage love, that all-consuming love that made that one special girl feel like the most important person in the world. And sure, after he moved to LA he’d dated, had a couple of girlfriends, but it never went anywhere, and his job, his job always made it complicated. Joel didn’t want complicated– so he stopped dating and got his fill of human touch through his work instead. It made his life easy, but then he’d seen you at the bar by yourself at Tommy’s club, and Joel didn’t want easy anymore.
Joel was a charming man; those southern manners had gotten him far in life, and especially with the ladies – it was no secret. And maybe he’d turned it up a few notches that night, he could admit that – hoping it would hook you in. He’d almost gone against his own rule. The rule he’d set for himself after one particularly nasty break-up a few years back: his rule of no sex outside work. He’d told himself he was protecting himself– protecting himself from getting involved into something complicated again, from getting hurt, or hurting someone he cared for. But then he’d met you, danced with you, talked to you, and Joel didn’t care about protecting himself anymore.
You weren’t someone to take home at the end of the night for a quick fuck. You were so sweet, and shy, he couldn’t help but want to get to know you better. Learn what made you smile, what books you liked, what music you listened to, but also what noises you made when you fell apart. In that dark dingy club, Joel had realized how special you were.
Maybe it was stupid what he did? He could’ve gotten your number a number of ways, but the alcohol was talking and suddenly he was offering you a job before really thinking it through – but at least he had a reason to see you again.
You were a good assistant, and he appreciated the work you did for him, his life had gotten much easier after hiring you. But you were so professional, and what Joel wanted to do to you was unprofessional. You kept on top of his schedule, took his phone calls, scheduled meetings, predicted what he needed before he even knew he wanted it. You were nothing short of a great assistant, but the more he worked with you it was clear that there were things about his job you weren’t as comfortable with – and Joel couldn’t blame you. From the outside his job was unusual, and fucking on camera wasn’t for everybody, but Joel had come to know – it especially wasn’t for you.
A couple of months in, Joel had started to think you were a virgin. At first, he thought it was just your steadfast professionalism, but your reactions to what he considered normal things in his line of work, made him wonder. Not that there was anything wrong with you being a virgin, he just couldn’t understand how anyone could look at you and not want you to be theirs. And maybe it was wrong, but it turned him on a little too, something possessive deep inside loving the thought of you being his, and only his.
He wanted you, wanted you to be his, and the more he got to know you, the more he had to fight to hold back his growing feelings. Joel could hide behind his personality, hide behind the way he loved to flirt, loving the way you squirmed from his compliments– from his teasing. It was cute, it was so goddamn cute, but it didn’t fix the ache he had inside only you could sooth.
After Pismo Beach, Joel knew he was fucked. In the car on the way back to LA he’d had trouble watching anything except your face; the beautiful glimmering sea you drove along might as well have been an oily puddle for all he cared. Nothing was sweeter than watching you hum along to the Joni Mitchell cassette you played on repeat. Joni’s mezzo-soprano clung in his ear like a warning. Yes, help me, he was falling in love too fast, but damn if it didn’t feel good.
Now a different song filled the space of his car, as he drove you home. Crosby, Stills & Nash’s melodic guitar picking hummed a low tune, their three-part harmonies flowing from his car speakers.
“Heartlessly helping himself to her bad dreams, he worries.”
So yeah, Joel was worried. That rosy hue that had been tinting his world when he looked at you, had now faded to a drab dirty pink. You didn’t even look at him, and hadn’t muttered as much as a word to him since he found you in his trailer – where you’d been flicking through his papers from the meeting – after the scene ended.
“’s everythin’ alright?” Joel spoke across the silence that had grown between you.
You didn’t move your head from where it rested against the window; your face bathed in red from the sea of brake lights on the freeway. You weren’t moving much, so Joel allowed himself a good look at you. He watched the way your body curled in on itself in the seat, your fingers picking at your nailbeds – it made him pull his brows in a tight frown.
“Did he hear a goodbye, or even hello?”
With a brave hand he reached out to touch you, stroking the back of his hand against your cheek. “Hey,” he said, “did ya hear me, my sweet girl?”
“They are one person. They are two alone. They are three together. They are for each other.”
You pulled away from his touch immediately, shifting in your seat, and Joel felt his heart sink in his chest. “I’m fine,” you muttered, an unfamiliar sting in your voice.
A loud honk behind him released Joel from the shock from your tone, and his hand that had been previously dancing along your delicate skin, fell to the gear stick. Releasing the clutch slowly, Joel’s car rolled forward, following the slug traffic. You clearly weren’t fine.
“Stand by the stairway, you’ll see something certain to tell you, confusion has its cost.”
Joel let the music fill the space while you stayed quiet, a bubbling panic settling in his chest as the day played on repeat in his head. Everything had been so great earlier, until it wasn’t. He’d seen it in you after the meeting. Joel knew he should’ve said something, and he’d simmered with it all throughout the meeting, but Joel also knew better than to speak against Ronald in a setting like that.
Ronald was the best thing that had happened to Joel’s career. He was a big name in the porn industry, only managing the very best in the game. Eight years had passed since Ronald had discovered Joel.
It had been the summer of ‘67, his first year in LA already in the rear view. He’d come with a guitar case and a dream of making something of himself. Joel had chased that dream around in circles, and a year into it, he’d been free falling towards rock bottom. The gigs he’d dreamt would line up as soon as his feet touched the hot Californian sand, never came, and had it not been for Tommy, who’d made the move with him, he’d be homeless.
The whole exchange had been bizarre. Tommy was working as a busboy at a club on The Strip at the time, and as an employee, Tommy got a discount at the bar. Joel knew how to take advantage of his little brother’s benefits, and occupied a seat at the bar every weekend where he drank almost free booze, and flirted himself to a one night stand, or two, or three.
He’d sat by the bar one Saturday like usual when a man sat down in the seat next to him. Joel paid him no mind at first, continuing to smoke his cigarette and enjoy his whiskey. Then the man had started talking to him, asking if he knew this girl he’d slept with last week. He was about to deny ever having talked to someone matching this girl’s description, concerned that this man was a husband or a crazy ex-boyfriend of some sort, when the man started telling him that she dabbled in porn. Nothing crazy, just some nude photoshoots here and there, but she’d told him all about Joel and his impressive package.
Joel was about to tell the man to go fuck himself – the conversation twisting into something way too weird for Joel to navigate – when the man, Ronald, had offered to manage him.
Sure, Joel was gifted, blessed, some might even say, but it had sounded too good to be true: getting paid the big bucks for just having sex? At the time, it had sounded like every man’s pipe dream but now, Joel owed Ronald everything.
If the movie deal with VCA went through, Joel’d owe him even more. It was a miracle he was this sought after in the first place. The top consumers of porn, Joel knew, and he supposed the entire porn industry knew, were predominantly men looking for big boobs and a willing woman, neither of which he was. But the tide was turning with the rise of the women’s movement, and Ronald had thrown his net into the pool of opportunity at the exact right moment.
The cynical part of Joel told him it paid his bills – he’d been so desperate in that club – but now, now he was living large as his popularity had continued to grow, and grow, and grow. He’d paved his path towards success, towards the success he’d dreamed about those eighth years ago. And sure, it felt good to be sought after and desired by women everywhere, but if he was being honest, the only woman he wanted to be desired by in this moment, was you.
He loved your gentle nature, that shy, almost timid, way you looked at him. No one had looked at him like that before. It felt so much more real, but it was like something was always holding you back, like you could never allow yourself to just be, always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Joel recognized that feeling, he did. He was from the south after all, and as far as his family was concerned, Joel was a sinner. That guilt they instilled in him– he’d sat with that a long time, years spent learning not to hate himself for the choices he’d made, unlearning years of shame. To not feel guilty about his desires, to embrace all that life had to offer with open arms, to dream, to eat until he was full and still have room for dessert.
“Love isn’t lying, it’s loose in a lady who lingers.”
Clearing his throat, Joel spoke again, “Somethin’ ‘s clearly wrong, sweet girl.”
“Please don’t call me that,” you sighed, voice strained like you were close to crying. The broken sound of you shattered something inside him.
“Saying she is lost, and choking on hello.”
Finally, the traffic picked up its pace, and Joel changed gear, gaining speed for the first time since you got on the freeway.
“My sweet girl?” he asked, “I thought you liked that?”
Crosby, Stills & Nash sang their last lines, before the song faded into some disco song Joel had never heard before. It was loud and obnoxious, and your answer drowned in the beat. Joel’s hand was on the volume button in less than a second, turning it down.
“I didn’t,” you repeated in a whisper, “I don’t.”
You shifted your body closer to the door, and Joel knew he had to do something to make you feel better.
“How about…” he started, his hand shifting from the gear stick to land on the thick of your thigh, “I’ll drive us back to my place, and we’ll pick up where we left of this mornin’, huh? Would that make ya feel better?”
You crossed your leg over the other, making his hand slip from your thigh. “I’m too tired, Joel– it’s been a long day… and I didn’t get enough sleep,” you sighed, eyes closed and defeated.
“You sure? Swe–” Joel cut himself off before he could say it, the sweetness turning bitter on his tongue.
You didn’t answer, didn’t look at him, didn’t let him touch you. Something tightened in his chest. You were slipping away like sand through his fingers.
Maybe this wasn’t about the meeting after all?
“’s this about Cheryl?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady and calm, to conceal the panic bubbling in his throat. “’s just for work– was just actin’.”
You took a deep breath, and held it before you spoke, like you were practicing what to say before you said it. “It’s fine, Joel– I’m not your girlfriend.”
Not his girlfriend. Not his. Never his.
This time he couldn’t look at you, his hand gripping tightly around the steering wheel as he glimpsed your apartment complex down at the next turn.
“I thought–” Shit. A breathless chuckle devoid of any joy left him. He was speechless.
Pulling into the parking lot next to your car, Joel didn’t know what to do. He watched you gather your things, while the heaviness in his chest grew.
Was it over before it had even begun?
“I’m…” you drew a shaky breath, “I’ll see you at work.”
And then you were gone, slipping out the door and leaving Joel alone in the swollen silence of your absence. His heart hammered in his chest, his breathing growing shallower as he watched you hurry across the parking lot in the rear-view mirror.
Move you fucking idiot– run after her, his brain told him, but he couldn’t move an inch. Shit. Shit. Shit. His chest tightened, and tightened, his fingers clawing at the rough fabric of his jeans as he started gasping for air. He’d wanted you for so long, and now you were gone. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? With shaky hands he managed to roll down the window, the fresh evening air filled his lungs as he tried his best to calm down.
Joel had fucked up.
When Thursday rolled around, and Joel still hadn’t heard from you, he started to wonder if it was excessive to file a missing persons report. He’d tried to call you multiple times since Monday, but your phone was always off the hook. The hollow beeping of the busy signal doing nothing to calm the panic building in him since Monday.
He’d been so stupid, and he’d cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. Embarrassment suffocating him at the fact that it hadn’t settled in until Ronald had shown him the first rough cut of his chemistry test with Cheryl yesterday.
It had been Cheryl’s idea, the whole innocence thing. She’d pitched it to him after the meeting ended, telling him how excited she was for this opportunity, and how much she was looking forward to finally filming later. Joel had played along; he was at work after all – it was his job. So, he turned on the charm, tested the chemistry waters, and agreed. She was new to the industry and young, it made sense.
What didn’t make sense was what he’d called her. Sweet girl. He’d called Cheryl that multiple times without even realizing it – too lost in his thoughts of you, and how he wished it was you with your lips wrapped around him.
Joel was fucking stupid.
He’d convinced you to watch him get a blowjob from another woman right after you’d confessed to never having given head before. He knew you were inexperienced, but that had never mattered to him. Joel thought it was kinda nice to explore sex with you – to find out what you liked, and what you didn’t. It made it exciting again – it wasn’t just work. But hearing himself praise Cheryl for making him feel good was the last straw for him – he needed to apologize to you.
How he wished he’d been able to convince you to stay in bed that morning– to forget about the stupid fucking meeting. Finally, he’d had you. Finally, he could kiss you, and hold you, and make you feel good. The sweetness of you, of having had you, now bitter as he realized he’d probably never get that back.
Wiping a sweaty palm on his jeans, he tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for someone to buzz him into your apartment complex. He knew he shouldn’t be here, he could get you in trouble, but he needed to see you, to talk to you face to face.
“Hello?” a static voice croaked through the busted speakers of the rusting door buzzer.
“Pizza delivery,” Joel answered, and not a second later the door buzzed.
Trudging up the stairs the words he’d rehearsed played on a loop in his head: He know you probably don’t want to see him ever again, but he needed to apologize for what happened on Monday. He never meant to hurt you the way he did. He understands he was never your boyfriend, but that was what he wanted to be, and he’s sorry for the way he acted.
Stopping outside your apartment door he drew in a deep breath before he knocked. It felt like he stood there for hours waiting while nothing happened. That worry he’d felt for days now tugging harder at his neck. Joel knocked again, a little harder with the shout of your name, and added ‘It’s Joel’ for good measure. Again, nothing. When he repeated the action a third time, the door to the neighboring apartment flew open.
“She’s not home,” your neighbor told him, a hint of annoyance in her voice. She was dressed in a formless paisley patterned dress, hair thrown back in a low ponytail as she bounced a crying baby in her arms. When Joel’s eyes landed on the little girl in her arms, she told him, “You woke her up with all that banging.”
“I’m sorry ma’am,” he said earnestly, “I never meant to–” The baby screamed louder, face red from exertion.
“Sure, you didn’t,” she scoffed, with a roll of her eyes. She bounced her daughter, shifting her hold to hike her up over her shoulder, hand tap tapping at her back as she started to bounce her.
Sliding his hands into his jean pockets, Joel didn’t know what to do. Awkwardly he cleared his throat, tilting his head towards your door. “D’you–” Joel started, before your neighbor cut him off.
“No, but I saw her getting picked up by an older man about an hour ago.” Something about the judgement in her tone didn’t sit right with Joel.
He nodded at the information. Your uncle. Joel remembered now. Your uncle was coming to visit – taking you to dinner. What had you said on the phone again? An Italian place in Santa Monica?
Pulling his car keys from his pocket, he thanked your neighbor – making sure to apologize once again for the ruckus, before he hurried back down the stairs. He walked with long steps towards his car. The sun was setting on LA, turning the clouds and the city pink, but he paid the beautiful sight no mind, his eyes set on the Italian restaurant in Santa Monica where he knew Deborah worked.
“Well would you look at what the cat dragged in.”
Joel turned his head towards the source of the familiar voice, only to find himself eye to eye with Deborah, and her raised eyebrow.
The air smelled like garlic and basil, and the restaurant hummed with conversation over the sound of Dean Martin. She was adorning the restaurant’s waiter uniform, a short red dress over a white collared shirt, while balancing a tower of dirty plates in her hands. He almost didn’t recognize her, she looked so different from how he was used to seeing her – all dolled up at Tommy’s club.
“Deborah,” he acknowledged with a nod, plastering a polite smile on his face.
“Don’t you ‘Deborah’ me, Miller,” she told him with a scoff, placing the tower of dishes down on an empty table before crossing her arms over her chest and narrowing her eyes at him, “What are you doing here?”
“I’m lookin’ for–”
“I bet you are,” Deborah replied, raising an unimpressed brow, “She ain’t here.”
Joel sighed, his face pulling into a defeated smile. “I know she’s with her uncle, Deborah. She told me she was takin’ him to an Italian restaurant in Santa Monica– As far as I’m concerned, that’s this place.”
Deborah shrugged nonchalantly, and Joel felt himself start to get annoyed. “Sorry, haven’t seen her in months.”
“Deb,” Joel let out through an exasperated sigh, a hand coming up to rub his eye, “Listen, I–... I just came to apologize, okay? I did somethin’ stupid that I shouldn’t have, and I need to apologize to her f’it.”
Deborah scoffed at Joel’s words, shaking her head with a bitter smile. “I bet you did something stupid... always the same thing with you Millers, hm? You always do first and think later.”
Confused, Deborah’s tone made Joel raise a single eyebrow, “Sure we still talkin’ about me?”
He hadn’t heard much from Tommy about what had gone on between him and Deborah, but he knew it hadn’t been very pretty. Tommy had just broken up Maria for the umpteenth time when they’d started going around. It was never going to last, Joel knew it the second he’d met Deb. Tommy always came back to Maria somehow, it didn’t matter how badly it had ended – like an endless figure eight they’d always meet again in the middle.
“Potato, potahto,” she said with a falsely sweet smile.
“Look, I ain’t my brother, okay? Never have been, never will be. Now I ain’t got a clue what went down between the two of you, and I’m damn near sure he deserves all the rage you’ve got to throw at ‘him, but it ain’t my business to sort out, so don’t go makin’ it my business...”
Deb tightened her arms over her chest, green eyes glaring at him, still, Joel could see a twinkle of curiosity in her eyes, too. “Apologize for what? You dock her pay or something?”
“No,” Joel let out with an annoyed breath.
“So what, you fired her?”
“No, Deb,” Joel said again, his voice heavy with exasperation.
Deborah quieted down for a second as she scrutinized him, her eyes boring into him. Then, her eyes cleared, and she shook her head.
“You got handsy, didn’t you?” she asked eventually, raising a questioning eyebrow. Joel couldn’t hide the guilt on his face, it told her all she needed to know. Her hands fell to her sides, “Jesus Christ, Miller... don’t you get laid enough at work?”
“Look, it ain’t like that,” he said, shaking his head as he felt his cheeks heat up, which only embarrassed him more.
Joel Miller doesn’t blush.
When Deb crossed her arms again, expression expectant as she looked silently at him, Joel sighed. “Deb… I really like her– and I know ya’ll are friends, and you want to protect her, but you gotta give me a fair shot, too... I never meant to hurt her, but I did, and if I have to spend the rest of my life apologizin’ to her every single day then that’s what I’mma do, but I promise you, you’re going to get sick of me real quick.”
There was a moment of silence in which the two of them looked at each other, before Deb raised a finger to point at Joel, taking a step forward.
“You listen here, Miller,” she said, wagging it under his nose, “Just this once, I’m going to be nice to you, for old times’ sake... but if I so much as hear a squeak from her you’re acting like a bastard, then you bet your ass I’m coming the hell after you.”
Joel nodded slowly, pulling in a deep breath through his nose as he pursed his lips.
“Anythin’ else?” he asked, raising a semi-impressed eyebrow, but Deborah only scoffed at his tone, poking him in the chest a final time.
“Yeah, tell your brother to stop calling,” she said, looking up at him, before nodding towards the back of the restaurant, “Unlike her, I don’t give second chances.”
“I’ll pass it on,” Joel said with a nod, but his voice was already absent as he finally spotted your familiar shape sitting in a booth at the very back of the restaurant.
Twirling your fork absentmindedly through your spaghetti, you listened to your uncle yap on and on about the boys at the garage, and the car he’d just driven down here.
“It’s a beaut,” your uncle said through a mouthful of his own pasta, “1971 C3 model, nice dark green color Ralphie repainted. You know I’m not a convertible guy myself, can’t give up my truck, but I could see myself in one of them cars out here– apparently, it’s being sold to some high-profile actor or something.”
“Really?” you asked, trying to steer this never-ending one-sided conversation towards something somewhat interesting.
“Yeah, you know I don’t keep up with them celebrities, but I’m pretty sure I was talking to the client’s manager on the phone.”
You nodded, letting your fork fall to take a sip of your water. Your uncle hadn’t let you order yourself a glass of wine, the impression that you were still that innocent little girl you were back when you worked in his garage shop hard to shake. Your uncle, on the other hand, nursed his beer.
“That’s exciting,” you said with a small smile.
“Oh yeah, we’ve got this bet going at the shop about who it is–” Your uncle cut himself off as a broad figure approached your table. Looking up from your plate your breath hitched when you saw the man before you.
“Joel?” His name fell from your lips before you had time to think, your brows pulling together in confusion, before something tugged at the hurt in your heart. What was he doing here?
“Hi, sweetheart.” His face wore a quiet smile, eyes scanning over your form.
“W-what are you doing here?” you stuttered out, a panic racing in your chest while a lump formed in your throat. You couldn’t do this here, especially not in front of your uncle.
“I was in the neighborhood– saw y’all through the window and wanted to…” he trailed off, finally noticing your uncle. “Sorry, sir,” he reached out his hand to your uncle in a greeting, “Joel Miller, I’m–”
“Joel’s an actor,” you cut him off, “he starred in one of Mr. Cooper’s commercials a few months ago,” you lied.
You could see the kink in Joel brow at your lie, that quiet surprise he then played off with a charming smile. “Yeah, that’s right– a beer commercial, wasn’t it?” He looked at you with one eyebrow raised. Biting down on your lip you confirmed the lie with a nod.
“You do look a little familiar,” you uncle said, dragging the words out like he’s pulling them from his memory, “they show your commercial on the TV?”
“Oh, I haven’t been payin’ attention, but somethin’ like that,” Joel shrugged, shoving his hands in the front pockets of his tight Levis, his signature western belt buckle glinting in the low light. “Y’all mind if I join y’all for a drink?”
“Not at all,” your uncle smiled before you could say anything. Joel lifted his hand to get Deborah’s attention to order himself a beer, before he squeezed himself into the booth next to you, his knee bumping into yours as he got comfortable.
Having lost your appetite, you shifted your plate to the side to make room for Joel. It was a tight squeeze in the booth, the warmth of his body flooding your senses, the familiar scent of cigarettes and of his cologne making your heart ache.
How could you miss him, and hate him all at the same time?
Deborah served Joel his drink quickly, checking in at your table at the same time. Her eyes were focused on you as she cleared the table, asking you a silent ‘You okay?’ which you quickly nodded at. You knew she’d make up some crazy excuse to get you out of any situation, but you didn’t know if you could handle it if she did. It was easier to just suffer through. You’d suffered enough this past week; you could handle another hour.
The days since you’d seen Joel last had been spent between your bed and your couch. Unfocused eyes rolling over reruns as you let a blanket of numbness fall over you as the hours passed you by. You felt so tired, that kind of tired that sits in your stomach, heavy and pulling you down, every step a drag and every breath a strain. You’d isolated yourself for days, hadn’t showered for days, you were too tired to do it, and what did it matter anyway?
You’d tried to cry, but you couldn’t make the tears fall. You wanted the release, and to feel sorry for yourself, but nothing came. And what good would it do? Nothing. You were nothing. Nothing to yourself, nothing to Joel, and nothing to this lonely city. Just some small-town girl who thought she could change who she was, who she was always destined to be.
After two whole days on your couch, you had to get up, you had no choice. You wanted to cancel, to tell your uncle that you’d come down with the flu, but you knew he was driving all day, and you wouldn’t have a clue where to call to reach him. So, you’d sat up, ate a piece of bread, and had a shower. Every minute you tried to not think of Joel, tried to not think about the way he’d kissed you hello in your hallway, the way he'd held you through the night as you slept soundly in his arms, how his gaze had felt over your features on your way back from Pismo Beach – it was all too much. Every nice memory ruined by the way his voice had echoed ‘Sweet girl’ to Cheryl.
Sweet girl. Feels so good, my sweet girl– just like that. My sweet girl.
How stupid you’d felt hearing those words. You’d fooled yourself into thinking there was something more between you and Joel. You weren’t special, and that was the worst part, because he’d made you feel special. He’d made you feel desired– like he actually liked you. Or maybe that’s what hurt the most – to realize that to him you were just one girl among many.
You’d placed your phone back on the hook in the afternoon, anticipating your uncle’s call, and when it rang, you were relieved to hear his familiar voice down the line. It was all so complicated. The relief a strange mix with the suffocating memories of home. You were different now than when you worked at his shop. Still shy, but still different, more grown up and more independent. He didn’t know you anymore. No one knew you anymore– well except for one person.
You’d felt free with Joel– even before, when he was just your boss. He’d challenged you, made you come out of your shell, challenged your shame, and challenged your guilt. And watching Joel small talk with your uncle, you started to wonder if that was the reason why it had hit you so hard? Joel had let you be yourself, while still challenging you. He’d let you be shy, while still feeling sexy. He’d made you feel seen, until you’d been forgotten.
“You guys will have to excuse me, I need to take a leak,” your uncle said, pulling you from your thoughts, and getting up from his seat.
With his glass raised to his lips, Joel only gave him a short nod as he watched him walk away from your table. When your uncle was out of earshot, Joel dropped the act, shoulders relaxing as he gently placed his beer on the red and white gingham.
His face looked tired, eyes sparkling with melancholy. “I’m sorry for showin’ up here all unannounced,” he started, fingertips tapping lightly over the cloth, “you weren’t pickin’ up your phone and I need to talk to you.”
The lump on your throat grew larger as you tried to swallow around it, lost for words. “F-for what?” you said, voice hoarse and not louder than a whisper.
“I think we both know for what,” he sighed, “I fucked it up with you– never should’ve said those things to Cheryl– even if it was just actin’. I got so caught up in you, I didn’t realize what I’d said until it was too late, and I’m sorry.”
“I-I, J-Joel,” you stuttered, brows pulling together tightly as you searched for your words.
“You don’t need to say nothin’ right now, but I wanna drive you home ‘f that’s okay? Wanna have a proper talk with you.”
His hand was shaking as he placed it gently on your shoulder, the touch making your eyes fall shut as a hitching breath escaped you.
“Joel,” you whispered.
“Please,” his hand moved gently up your neck to cup your cheek, the warmth of his touch sending goosebumps down your spine. “Please, I need to explain myself.” His voice sounded pained and full of sorrow. “I’m beggin’ you, sweetheart.”
You opened your eyes slowly, breath shaky as you tried to hold back the tears pressing behind your eyes. His whole face shifted when you met his eyes, melancholy turning to worry, his other hand coming up to cup your other cheek as he shifted closer.
“Hey,” he said it so softly, “Sweet girl, sweet sweet girl, please don’t cry.” His forehead fell against yours, his mustache tickling your skin as he pressed ‘I’m sorry’ into it.
“O-okay,” you managed to stutter out against your better judgment.
Joel lifted his head, brown warm eyes finding yours as his thumbs rubbed gently into your skin, “Yeah?”
Behind Joel, you noticed your uncle exit the men’s room, and you jerked out of Joel’s hold. His brows tightened together in a confused frown before you gave him a short nod in the direction of your uncle. Joel gathered his hands in his lap, his eyes tracing your uncle as he squeezed back into his seat. He gave Joel a look you couldn’t decipher, jaw locked tight and eyes piercing, before he turned to you with a plastered smile.
“Alright, what do you say, sweetie? You want some dessert?”
Your eyes flicked quickly from your uncle to Joel, and then back again, “No, I think I’m too full, and um… it’s getting late.”
Your uncle hummed, “Yeah, been a long day for sure.” Shifting in his seat your uncle fished his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. “Let’s see if we can get a hold of that pretty friend of yours,” he said, turning his head to search for Deborah.
As he got her attention, Joel fished his pack of cigarettes from the front pocket of his shirt. He lit himself a cigarette as you watched your uncle hold up his wallet and point. You couldn’t help but steal a glance at Joel, watching the way his lips pursed around the cigarette as he inhaled.
“I think I’m also gonna use the restroom before we leave,” you peeped, getting to your feet before anyone could say anything. You felt Joel’s hands graze the back of your legs as you squeezed past him. The touch quick but gentle, but still leaving a burn of longing either way.
Pushing open the door to the restroom you took a deep breath. Joel was here. Joel was here and he wanted to apologize. Pacing to the end of the room, you discreetly dropped your head to check the stalls. No one. Good. Leaning your weight over the stone sink, you looked at yourself in the mirror.
What were you doing? One touch from Joel and you fall apart?
You released a breathless laugh and shook your head at yourself; you were in over your head, but at the same time a bubble of relief sat in your throat. He was here after all, he wanted to explain himself, and you knew that deep down you wanted to hear it.
When you made your way back to the table, something in the air had changed. “There she is,” your uncle said, gathering his jacket, “Ready to go?”
“Um…” You looked to Joel, but something about him looked different. His shoulders looked tense, the cigarette pinched between his fingers were close to burning out, but it was his face when he looked at you that made you worried. The previous tenderness gone, replaced by a clenched jaw and eyes that wouldn’t meet yours.
“Actually, Joel said–”
He cut you off, “I’m gonna stay for another drink…”
His words dropped to the pit your stomach where they weighed you down, your feet frozen to the tiled floor. When Joel still didn’t look at you as he handed you your jacket and purse, you knew something was clearly wrong. Beside you your uncle crowded your space. His hand landed on your shoulder where it rubbed harshly into your skin, almost possessive as his eyes locked on Joel in a way that said, ‘good man’.
“I’ll drive you home, sweetie.”
With a hand resting at your back, your uncle guided you out the restaurant without as much as a mutter of goodbye to Joel. You looked back at him, not once but twice, but he still didn’t look at you – his eyes were glued to the foam of his beer as you vanished out the door.
Back inside your uncle’s rental car you were quiet, sitting with your thoughts as they swirled around your head. You’d been so close to believing Joel; that he was actually sorry, that he wanted to apologize. But once again you’d been a fool. Leaning your head against the window you felt so silly– silly for getting your hopes up.
“I– uh,” your uncle cleared his throat, “That Joel back there, sweetie, he’s not who he says he is.”
Lifting your head you turned to your uncle with a frown, “I don’t–”
Your uncle cut you off, “I don’t want to be telling you this– lord knows I don’t want your aunt knowing about this but…”
You watched how your uncle’s grip tightened around the steering wheel, his nervousness infecting you. What was he talking about?
“But what?” Your voice rose an octave, as you let out a nervous breath.
“Joel does porn,” your uncle revealed. He said it all dramatic, like he was in a movie and this scene was the turning point for your character. You had to restrain yourself to hide the laugh tickling your throat as he continued, “I thought he looked familiar, and– jesus, don’t you ever tell anybody about this but… he’s in a couple of movies I keep in the basement.”
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, your eyes staring straight ahead down the road. You cringed at the new atmosphere settling in the car, stuffy with embarrassment and a picture of your uncle getting off to Joel stuck to your retinas. You wanted to hurl, this new picture not something you’d ever want to visualize. You were quiet as the revelation settled, your brain searching for words, but it was like they’d all fallen out your ears.
“Listen,” he cleared his throat of the discomfort, “I don’t know what he is to you, if he’s your boyfriend or what–”
“He’s not,” you squeaked, ready for this conversation to be over.
“I saw him kissing you when I stepped out of the toilets,” your uncle accused sternly, a biting lilt to his voice.
“Kiss me? I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you protested, confused about how he’d gotten it in his head that Joel had kissed you.
“Don’t you raise your voice at me,” he started to yell, “I saw it with my own two eyes, don’t you go lying to me.”
Your heart picked up its pace, all the blood in your body turning to ice in your veins. Pressing your lips together in a thin line, you fought to hold back the tears threatening to spill.
“I don’t want you seeing him anymore– that kinda filth he’s involved in…” he shook his head, “it’s sinful and I don’t want him getting you involved in that.” Your uncle’s voice was stern, words spat through gritted teeth.
You were frozen in your seat. Your heart beating so fast you thought it might burst through your ribcage. You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to say. All too quickly you were transported back home, back to who you used to be. You drew a shaky breath as a single tear spilled down your cheek.
“What would your parents say if they knew what you were doing down here? Who your friends were? That Deborah? Did you see how short her dress was? The city of sin this is,” your uncle continued as he pulled into the parking lot outside your apartment complex.
With eyes glued to your hands, you couldn’t get a single word to come out of your mouth – like they were stuck to the back of your throat where they formed a painful lump. After parking the car, your uncle turned to you, a finger brushing over your cheek in a suffocating touch.
“Sweetie,” he started, voice gone softer, “I’m worried about you. You’re out here all alone– all alone with all this temptation. Wouldn’t it be nice if you came back home with me, hm? Get you back where you belong?”
"I–..."
The words stayed stuck in your throat, unable to rise over the anxiety that gripped you at the thought of returning home to your parents. How different your life would be, back to the way it used to be, an old prison you'd hoped you'd left far behind you. Yet you felt numb, finding yourself incapable of uttering a single word of protest as your uncle nodded self-righteously.
"I think that's the best, sweetie," he told you, his tone sounding entirely too convinced, "Tell you what Hon. . . I'm gonna be driving back down tomorrow, and I'll be damned if you aren't sitting in this seat all safe right next to me, alright? So why don't you go and pack your stuff and a bag, and I'll be by in the afternoon to pick you up?"
You said nothing, the rising panic in your throat rendering you almost paralyzed. Your fingers desperately reached for the car door handle; you needed to get out of this car.
Unaware of your distress, your uncle bid you a contented 'See you later' as you stepped out of his car, slamming the door shut.
Finally, he drove off. You watched him disappear with a knot in your stomach until he was just a tiny dot on the horizon, wishing he would stay that way as you tried desperately not to throw up your dinner in the parking lot.
“Hello?”
The electric static of your voice filled Joel with a deep sense of relief. His grip around the phone handset tightened as he forced out a clumsy, “It’s Joel.”
The sigh you sent down the phone tickled up his spine, but before you could say anything Joel continued, “I just wanted to apologize to you… for last night.”
He’d felt awful all through the night and into the morning. He’d fucked it up again. Letting you leave like that last night was the hardest thing he’d done in a long while. Had you not gone to the bathroom and left him with your uncle, none of this would’ve happened.
You sighed again, “All you do is apologize Joel, but do you ever mean it?”
Joel face contracted into a grimace, “I do, sweet girl, you don’t know how much I mean it,”
“Joel…” your voice sounded pained, and it shattered something inside him. He just wanted you to be happy, and loved, and taken care of, but all he’d done was hurt you, again and again.
“It doesn’t matter how much you mean it Joel… none of it matters anymore.” The tone of your voice scared him.
“What d’you mean, sweetheart?” he hurried.
“It’s just… you don’t need to worry about me anymore, Joel– I’m leaving LA tonight.”
Joel felt his heart drop to his stomach, a rising panic bubbling under his skin as he stumbled out, “What are you talkin’ about, sweet girl?”
“I’m going back home tonight. I-I don’t know when I’ll be back– if I’m coming back. Joel, I can’t be your assistant anymore.”
“Fuck being my assistant!” he spoke through gritted teeth, holding back from yelling out in panic, “What d’you mean you’re leavin’?” Joel’s voice faltered as his heart caught up with what was about to happen.
He was gonna lose you. You would never be his. He was losing the first girl he thought he could really love. The girl he wanted a future with. Hell, the girl he could see himself grow old with. Joel knew it was fast, way too fast to be feeling like this about you, but right now, all those shitty romance novels about finding ‘the one’, all those weeping love songs about love at first sight – after you, they didn’t seem so stupid anymore.
“Joel, it’s– it’s okay.” Your voice had gone soft, but he could still hear the strain of hurt in it.
“It’s not, sweet girl, nothin’ about this is okay.” Joel’s eyes fell shut, his thumb and pointer finger coming up to squeeze at the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t lose you. “I’m comin’ over– We can’t be doin’ this over the phone.”
“Joel,” you sighed.
“I’m comin’ over,” he reiterated, and hung up.
You were carrying a bag to your car when you saw Joel’s car pull into the parking lot. He must’ve noticed you right away as he’d hastily parked next to your own car – his wheels screeched against the asphalt. As you made your way across the parking lot, you watched how he almost jumped out the car like he was in a hurry, coming around the back to fill the space between your cars.
“Joel– you really didn’t have to come all the way out here,” you told him when you got close enough, stepping past him to place your last bag in your back seat. He leaned his hand on your door, holding it open for you, his broad form shielding you from the blazing afternoon sun.
Inside, your apartment was left half-empty. You’d left most of your things, only bringing your clothes, your pictures, your records and your record player, and your books.
You didn’t need much more where you were going.
The thought still made your stomach turn in on itself, the dread of going back home had trickled down your back ever since last night. But what choice did you have? It was either your parents finding out about your job and Joel, or going back home. You knew your uncle; he’d never keep this a secret if you didn’t do as he said. If your parents found out it would be over for you. You didn’t even want to think about it; they’d disown you if they were feeling nice, or send you to an asylum if they were feeling extra nice. If you didn’t go now, they’d never let you come home again, and it scared you, you were already on thin ice for moving to LA in the first place.
“Are you just gonna pretend this isn’t your uncle’s idea?” Joel’s voice had a bite to it, and it caught you off guard. Standing to your full height you raised a hand to shield your eyes from the sun. His face wore none of the anger you’d heard in his voice, instead there was a veil of sadness coating his features.
“I– Why do you think that?” You tried to keep your voice steady, normal, you didn’t want him to hear how scared you were.
“’Cause of what he told me back at the restaurant,” he closed your car door, “told me he knew who I really was and to stay away from you– he didn’t want me taintin’ you with my filth.”
Your eyes fell shut as your hand came up to rub at your forehead. So that’s what happened yesterday? Letting your hand fall, your eyes fell over Joel’ face; over his neat mustache that tickled you in just the right way whenever he kissed you, over his soft curls he’d let grow out the last couple of months, and over his eyes. His brown eyes now swirling with something you hadn’t seen in them before. Shame?
“I done fucked it up haven’t I– you associatin’ with me? He’s takin’ you back to your daddy, ‘s that it?” When he met your eyes they softened, a veil of his regular self now concealing that blink of insecurity.
You shook your head as a lump grew at the back of your throat, “You just– you don’t understand Joel.” The words came out strained as you felt tears push behind your eyelids.
“Hey,” Joel softened immediately, his hand wrapping gently around your upper arm and sending a warmth through your body. “You’re okay, sweet girl, tell me what I don’t understand.”
He stepped a little closer, but not too close, his hand traveled up your arm in a soothing gesture. Your eyes fell shut again, squeezing them tight to stave off your tears. You’ve never talked about it before with anybody. Never talked about your family and how trapped you’d felt by their rules and their expectations; the guilt they’d instilled in you for never being able to live up to the person they wanted you to be.
You shook your head, “I don’t think I can,” you half-whispered.
“Sweetheart, I– I know I fucked it up with you, and I know I ain’t your boyfriend or nothin’, but I do care for you– I care for you more than you think. I wanna be there for you when somethin’s wrong. So please, tell me what’s wrong.”
Slowly opening your eyes, you looked at him. Those warm like whiskey eyes staring at you with concern and with a hint of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Adoration? Fondness? Love?
“My uncle will be back soon,” you said, voice low, “he wants to get on the road before dark.”
“’s that really what you want?” he asked then, his hand slipping from your arm.
“It’s– it’s complicated, Joel.”
A sigh escaped him, as he ran a hand over his face, “Yeah… I just wish you weren’t leavin’– wish it didn’t have to end like this.”
He didn’t look like himself. Eyes shining with sadness, and that usual cocky lilt to his voice gone, exchanged by something low and strangled. His face contorted into a crooked smile, his shoulders shaking with an unhumorous breathy laugh as he shook his head.
“Shit–”, he snickered, “life’s cruel sometimes… you finally fall in love with a girl and then…” he shook his head.
You felt like you’d been hit by a truck. Fall in love? In love with you? Joel didn’t look at you, his hand rubbed at the back of his neck as he started to walk away, rounding the tail of his car.
“Fall in love?” you asked, hands falling to your side in shock, “with me?”
Joel stopped at your voice, “Couldn’t help it,” he shrugged with a sad smile.
Those tears you’d fought so hard to stave off finally broke loose, a single tear running down your cheek – the tear in the dam of your sadness. Joel’s arms were around you in an instance, strong and steady. He held you so close to his broad chest, that familiar scent of cologne mixed with cigarettes making a sob escape you as you realized you’d never be able to be this close to him ever again.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled into his shirt.
Joel’s grip around you tightened as he dipped his head against your cheek, “Why are you apologizin’, sweet girl? I’m the one who’s sorry.”
“I don’t want to leave,” you whispered; your tears staining his shirt.
“Then don’t– stay,” Joel said, soothing a hand across your back.
“I-I can’t– they’ll… they’ll hate me if they find out.”
“Find out about what, sweet girl?”
“You… the porn… everything. He’ll tell them and I’ll never be able to come home again,” you cried into his shirt.
“Okay,” Joel sighed, loosening his grip around you, “let’s go back to my place– we should talk.”
“But my uncle–” you started to protest, but Joel cut you off.
“He doesn’t decide over you, sweet girl, you make your own decisions– you hear me?”
His hands found your face, his massive palms holding you gently as he rubbed his thumbs down your cheek, drying your tears. You could only nod.
You’d never been inside Joel’s house before, you realized, as you trailed after him up the steps to his front door. He lived in one of those houses at the top of a long hill where he had the most incredible view over LA. You knew porn paid him the big bucks, but he’d been sensible when it came to his home – well, sensible for LA.
It was a one-story house in the shape of an U; inside, the hallway opened up to a living room where big glass doors framed his back yard and a kidney shaped pool. Warm, dark toned wood paneling clad his walls and made the space feel masculine, but inviting.
With a hand hovering over your back he guided you towards his couch. “D’you want a cup of tea?” Joel asked you as you sat down on his leather couch. He looked nervous where he stood, palms running down the side of his leg like he didn’t know what to do with them. It was contagious.
“Um, okay,” you nodded, shifting a little in your seat and folding your hands in your lap.
Waiting for Joel to come back from the kitchen you tried to steady your stuttering heart. You’d been mostly silent on the drive over, trying to wrap your head around the fact that Joel was in love with you – the fact never seeming to stick to your brain in the right way.
It felt ridiculous – Joel, a successful pornstar, being in love with you. But stacked on top of his confession was the fact that Joel was a pornstar – making a living out of having sex with other women. You didn’t understand how exactly it bothered you, but you knew that it did somewhere deep down – but then again did you have any right to be bothered by it if it paid your bills.
“Didn’t know if you took sugar or not so I brought the bowl.” Joel pulled you from your thoughts, placing a steaming cup of tea and a small crystal bowl filled with sugar on the coffee table in front of you.
“Thank you,” you smiled meekly, your hand finding the string to bop the teabag as you watched the steaming water turn darker.
You felt the cushion dip as Joel sat down, a seat of absence between you.
The air felt loaded. Loaded with the week left behind you. Loaded with Joel’s lingering confession. Loaded with the uncertain future. Joel watched your hands, eyes fixed but far away.
“I… uh,” Joel cleared his throat as he searched for his words. “I wanna apologize to you for– for everythin’ that happened at work on Monday.”
You felt yourself not, drawing back your hands to rest them in your lap, a finger clumsily picking at your nailbed.
“There ain’t no excuse for how I was actin’– for the things I said… truth is, the way I feel about you, I’ve never felt like this with anyone before. You make–” Joel tipped his head, a smile coating his lips, “you make everythin’ just brighter– like everythin’ will be alright as long as I have you… And I know this all feels fast, but I’ve been crazy ‘bout you since I first laid my eyes on you. I ain’t ever believed in that ‘love at first sight’ crap but,” Joel hesitated, like the words hung at the tip of his tongue but wouldn’t let go.
“But?” you encouraged.
“I think I do now.”
His words tasted so bitter and so sweet. Tipping your head downwards your eyes found your hands.
“Joel…” you shook your head, trying to will the words to form. “This… I don’t understand.”
“What ain’t you understandin’, sweet girl?” He shifted his weight, leaning closer but still maintaining a respectful distance.
“Why me?” You looked up from your lap, eyebrows pulled together in a frown.
“Are you kiddin’ me?” He breathed out in shock.
“I mean, you’re Joel Packer– you can have any girl you want… and I guess you already do– at work.” You swallowed around the growing lump in your throat, tears pushing behind your eyelids.
“Well, I ain’t in love with all those other girls, am I?” His voice was gentle; the words escaping like they were the easiest words in the world.
Your tears pushed their way forward, trailing down your cheeks like curving rivers. Joel instantly moved closer, the familiar warmth of his body against your side made the tears run faster.
“Hey, my sweet girl, it’s okay, baby, it’s alright,” he cooed, pulling you into his embrace.
“It’s not, Joel… I don’t know what to do,” you sobbed into his shoulder.
“Tell me and we’ll figure it out together,” he pulled away to cup your head in his hands, thumbs wiping away your tears, “just tell me, baby.”
You watched his face, your eyes dancing over his features, drinking him in. Drawing a deep breath, you told Joel everything. You told him about your parents and your upbringing, their rules and their expectations. How they’d wanted you to be the perfect student, the perfect daughter, and someday the perfect wife. You told him why you’d moved to LA in the first place – to run from it all, from the guilt and shame they instilled in you for never being what they wanted. Joel held you in his arms as you emptied your feelings. He let you speak, humming at the right moments and squeezing you tighter when it was extra emotional for you.
“And now my uncle’s gonna tell them about you and the porn and–” you spoke fast, stumbling over your words, “they’ll disown me– I know it or worse they’ll come and get me… send me somewhere,” you sobbed.
“Heyheyhey,” Joel shifted his hold on you. You’d sunk into the couch as he’d let you talk, your feet slung over his lap as he held you close. Now he sat up, turning your body to face him, eyes locked with yours. “Listen, baby– they ain’t takin’ you anywhere, you hear me? You’re an adult– you’re your own person now!”
“I know I’m askin’ a lot of you– you’re afraid of losin’ your family– I understand! Believe me I do.” His head tipped against your forehead, nose brushing gently against yours. “My folks, they—... well they ain’t talkin’ to me anymore. Don’t matter how famous I am, I’m a sinner to them.”
“Joel, I’m sorry,” you whispered, your heart aching for him.
“Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry about– it’s in the past and I got Tommy…” he trailed off, lifting his head, one large hand cupping your cheek. “Listen, my sweet girl, you’re the only girl I want. I want you to stay, but I want you to stay for your own sake. There ain’t nothin’ you owe your folks, okay? And I promise you I’ll always be there for you!”
For once you didn’t think.
Leaning closer you brushed your lips against Joel’s, and it made all the walls inside you break down. Humming in surprise he stalled before he relaxed against you, pulling you closer, his hand pressed into your cheek. There was no air, only Joel. His mustache tickled your upper lip and cupid’s bow in just the right way, and you realized just how much you’d missed him.
The kiss was languid like molasses, pulling you apart and putting you together again. Your hand found his neck, fingers curling into the hair at the back of his neck – tethering yourself to him. He broke away from your kiss, pressing soft tender kisses along your jaw, his hand brushing down the column of your neck.
“Come sit in my lap, sweet girl,” he whispered into your skin and a rush of electricity sped through your body. His hand fell to your waist while the other grabbed at the thick of your thigh – maneuvering you to straddle him.
“There you go, my good girl,” he praised, his hands rubbing it into your skin. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Joel leaned forward, pressing soft kisses to the spot where your jaw met your neck.
“Joel, I– ah!” you gasped as he brushed his tongue over that sensitive spot behind your ear. You felt his smile against your skin, teeth nipping at your sensitive skin before his lips brushed over your drumming pulse. He kissed his way along your jaw, nose bumping into yours as he hovered before your lips – daring you to kiss him again.
You took the bait, eyes flicking down to his lips before you pressed your own against him. You didn’t have much experience with love but being this close to Joel felt so right. Maybe this was what love was, you thought.
“I think I’m in love with you,” you mumbled against his lips, your words swallowed by his kiss. A wide smile blossomed across Joel’s face at your words, and soon you were kissing teeth.
“Whatchu sayin’, sweet girl?” he grinned, raising one eyebrow at you as he leaned back.
You had to fight not to roll your eyes at him, at how he always found a way to playfully tease you. You weren’t joking though – you meant it, you really did.
“I’m in love with you too,” you told him sincerely, “I don’t know how to be in love, so you’ll have to be patient with me, but I’m yours if you’ll have me.”
“I’ll always want you, sweet girl, always,” he promised, sealing it with a chaste kiss.
“I uh, I think I need to quit being your assistant too,” you said, biting your lip. “I can’t– I don’t really want to see you with other women… you can tell me about work, but I don’t want to see it.”
Joel squeezed your waist gently before rubbing soft circles over the spot. “That’s okay– thank you for tellin’ me,” he nodded, “I’ll talk to Ronald ‘n see if he knows if there’s any assistant jobs for you over in Hollywood.”
You slowly shook your head, “Ronald is a piece of shit.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Joel chuckled, leaning his head against the back of the couch, “But he’s connected, and very convincin’.”
“He’d never do that for me,” you said.
“But he’ll do it for me– I’m his favorite client,” he grinned, leaning forward to cup your chin, before pulling his hand away.
“You just make him a lot of money,” you countered with a shrug, still sitting pretty in his lap.
“Do I now?” Joel asked, leaning closer with a cocky grin, “’n how do I do that, sweet girl?”
“Joel,” you sighed as his lips brushed over yours in another quick peck.
“Listen,” he started, “It’s been a long time since I’ve dated anyone ‘n I won’t lie, last time it got complicated ‘cause of my job. You know what the job entails, but I need you to talk to me– we need to be communicatin’, you need to tell me ‘f somethin’s wrong– just like you’re doing so well for me right now.”
“Ok, Joel,” you nodded, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder.
“Thank you, sweet girl,” he mumbled, placing a soft kiss to your temple.
You stayed like that for seconds, minutes, hours, you didn’t know. But it felt nice to be so close, to just be in each other’s company, to enjoy being so in tune with another person without any ulterior motive. You didn’t know when, or who started it, but his lips were back over yours, moving in a perfect rhythm. Slow and drawn out, enjoying every second of being this close. When his tongue darted over your bottom lip, the kiss got messier, more passionate, like either of you couldn’t get enough of the other.
Under you, you felt Joel’s cock harden, the feel of what you did to him making your cunt ache for him. His capable hands had explored your clothed body, rubbing softly over the dips and curves before they’d landed on your ass. With a gentle rock, he’d moved you back and forth over him, catching your every moan with his mouth as your clit caught on his growing bulge.
It felt so good. Joel felt so good.
He moved you expertly over him, edging you closer to an edge you didn’t think you could reach this fast, your arousal soiling your panties with every grind. The kiss got sloppy, and you broke away, content little sighs escaping your mouth as you buried your face in Joel’s neck. He was everywhere. The scent of him, his warmth, his hard cock underneath you– it was all too much, and Joel knew it. Tightening his grip on your ass, he bucked his hips to meet your grinding, and you snapped. Mewling into his neck, you withered in his lap, legs shaking with your orgasm.
“Joel,” you managed to moan between the white hot ecstasy.
“There you go, baby– good girl, come for me, just like that,” he encouraged, rubbing his hand down your back in gentle strokes. His heavy hand rested over your back, pressing soft kisses to your temple as you came down, cooing at the aftershock.
With your mind somewhat back on earth you lifted your head from the home you’d made in his neck to place a soft kiss to his lips. Meanwhile your hands slipped between your bodies, clumsy fingers fiddling with the buttons on his jeans.
Joel broke your kiss, “Not here.” Confused, you pulled away, your eyebrows meeting in a furrow. “Let me fuck you properly… in my bed.”
Stumbling back into his hallway, your hands linked, he led you to his bedroom. His decorating was simple: a king-sized bed placed up against the back wall, paired with more of those large floor-to-ceiling windows gave him a view out into his backyard. An art piece hung above his bed, which looked suspiciously like a Warhol, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it with Joel’s hands on you.
He took his time undressing you– one painstaking item at a time, dotting kisses to each new piece of skin revealed. You were practically swimming in your arousal by the time he got to your panties. He had that look in his eyes, something dark and filled with lust as he sank to his knees before you. Never breaking eye contact, Joel leaned in, his lips brushing over the soft spot below your belly button – it made goosebumps prickle across your skin, and a hitch of breath to get stuck in your throat. His lips skated downwards, running along the elastic of your panties, teeth nipping at the bow in the center.
It was like time stood still. Outside the setting sun filled Joel’s bedroom with a golden hue, and bathed him a soft warmth. The way he looked at you sent bolts of electricity through your body, into every nerve ending. He was everywhere, and you wanted him everywhere, wanted him inside.
His fingertips grazed the side of your thighs, finding the thin sides of your panties. His eyes locked with yours and you nodded along with a breathless, “Yes,” before he pulled them down. A smile filled with cocky happiness spread across his features when he hit a bit of a snag, your arousal and previous orgasm making the fabric stick to your cunt.
After helping you step out of your panties, Joel sat back on his heels as he admired you. His tight jeans clung to his thighs and your eyes couldn’t help but trail over him; over his strong muscles, his impressive bulge, his signature belt buckle and his scarlet red shirt with the deep V, straining against his shoulders. Naked and bare for him, he took in your body, those warm whiskey eyes memorizing every inch of it. The rough skin of his hand made you keen under his touch where it skated up your leg, following your form and parting your legs for him. Hooking his hand under your thigh, Joel placed it over his shoulder giving him a perfect view of your wet cunt, while your fingers found his curls to keep yourself steady.
“Look at this pretty pussy,” he whispered almost to himself, “it’s all messy f’me ain’t it?” He dragged his lips along your inner thigh, dark eyes locked with yours.
“Y-yes,” you managed to stutter out – your whole body alight under his touch.
“Yes, it is, baby,” he underlined his words with a finger swiping through your soaked folds, the sound filling the space between you. “You hear? Hear how messy?”
A heat traveled up your neck to your cheeks, making them burn under his playful teasing. “Joel,” you whined, your fingers tightening your grip on his curls. He continued his teasing, placing wet kisses to the inside of your other thigh. The coarse hair of his mustache brushing against the sensitive skin in just the right way.
“Fuck,” he whispered against your skin, “you gonna let me take care of ya, sweet girl? Gonna let me show you I’m only yours?”
You were nodding even before he’d finished his sentence, “Yes,” you sighed. The ache between your legs burned so bright it almost hurt.
With your permission, Joel closed the teasing distance, and buried his face between your legs. He started with a kiss directly to your clit, before he dipped lower to taste you properly. Small and breathy sighs escaped your lips, your other hand not in his hair falling to his shoulder to keep you from keeling over.
The flat of his tongue lapped at the seam of your cunt, collecting your arousal on your tongue, as he hummed in contentment. It felt too good. He always made you feel so good. When the tip of his tongue teased your hole, you had to bite down on your bottom lip to fight back the moan about to escape you. Pressing your heel into his back, your body bucked by its own will, meeting the swipes and zigzags of his tongue.
“Joel,” you gasped when he found your clit again, a tense arousal building in your core. Spurred on by your noises, Joel sucked at your sensitive bud, laving his tongue over it in lazy strokes.
“Fuck,” you whispered, breath hitching in your throat as you squeezed your eyes shut from the ecstasy. You were close now, your second orgasm approaching fast in Joel’s capable hands– or tongue.
“C’mon, baby,” he spoke between laps over your clit, urging you on, “come all over my tongue.”
A hand slid up to your ass, holding you flush to his face as you started to wither above him. His cheeks were warm from your soft thighs, his mustache slick with your arousal as he brought you closer and closer.
“There she goes, good girl,” he said with a ragged puff, encouraging you when the dam finally broke. His grip on your ass tightened, keeping you upright, as your whole body started to shake with your orgasm. Your grip on his hair was tight, tethering yourself to Joel, as you whimpered out breathy moans. Your hips bucked into his mouth, and the heel you dug into his back must’ve hurt, but your mind was entirely elsewhere, lost in the pleasure he was giving you.
He pressed soft kisses to the fold where your thigh started as the aftershocks coursed through you, holding you steady while your chest heaved for breath as you tried to calm down.
“Joel,” you sighed contently, your hand brushing over his hair. He didn’t pull away like you thought he’d do, instead he placed another kiss to your sensitive clit. You jumped at the touch, a giggle catching in your throat.
“I’m not done witchu, sweet girl.” You could feel the smile against your skin, the way his lips smoothed the exposed surface, the sweetness of his smile practically dripping down your legs.
He helped you slide your leg off his shoulder, his big hands framing your waist as he rose from the floor with a restrained grunt. He looked a mess. Hair pulled in all directions, mustache glistening with your wetness and cheeks smeared with your arousal. Seeing what you’d done to him, you felt your cheeks heat up.
With his hands around your waist, he walked you backwards, until the back of your legs hit the end of the bed. He was crowding your space now, the familiar scent of him now mixed with you sent your brain into a mushy state. He pushed you forward gently, and you fell down on his bed, bouncing slightly.
Joel towered over you, still completely dressed. The thought of how bare you were for him, while he was still fully clothed, sent a tingle down your tummy to your core. He had the upper hand, and it felt good. It felt good to let him take control, to be able to shut your brain off for a while, to know he would take care of you.
Across his face, Joel wore his signature cocky grin as he stepped closer to the edge of the bed, the hardwood floor creaking slightly with ever step. You dipped your head to your shoulder, looking up at him through your lashes, and it made his smile wider. He stalked over you, his hand curling around your ankle before he playful yanked you towards him. A yelp fell from your lips, before a giggle broke lose.
“Oh, you ain’t gonna be gigglin’ like that when I’m done witchu,” he teased, lowering himself over your body.
“W-what are you gonna do to me?” you asked breathlessly as Joel dipped down to nip at the skin below your collarbone.
A deep chuckle rumbled across your skin between his kisses, “Gonna make you come, and come and come, sweet girl– wanna feel you squeezin’ around cock– make you forget your own name.”
“Shit, Joel,” you stuttered out as his lips closed around your nipple, “I-I haven’t–”
He cut you off, “That ain’t matter to me, sweet girl, I know you’ll be good f’me.”
And he was right; you wanted nothing more than to be good for him.
He kissed a trail down the valley of your breasts, across your tummy and the dip of your belly button until he reached your mound. Joel got comfortable on his knees, hooking his arms under your legs to manhandle you the way he wanted, spreading your thighs, and putting your wet cunt on display for him.
“Sweet fuckin’ pussy,” he pulled back and spat, and you felt the way his spit dripped down your clit, “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.”
With his thumb he smeared his spit through your folds, not that you needed it, you were plenty wet from your two previous orgasms. You jumped under him when he brushed your clit, puffed and sensitive as it was, and it made him chuckle.
“You’re so sensitive, aren’t you, sweet girl?” he coaxed, putting more pressure on your clit with his thumb.
Your moan got caught in your throat as you hurried to answer him, “Y-yes, Joel, so sensitive.” Heat and arousal flushed through your body, traveling through your bloodstream, and shading the world in a rose-tinted hue.
Another chuckle escaped Joel before he ducked down and brought his lips to your clit, while two of his fingers teased down your folds to edge at your opening. You felt your hole clench in anticipation, as a whimpering moan fell from your lips.
“This hole is just drippin’ for me ain’t it?” he teased, voice muffled by his lips around your clit.
You couldn’t think, so consumed by his touch and the way he made you feel. You managed to nod and breathe out a “Yes.” Joel hummed around your clit, the vibrations edging you on as his fingers prodded at your entrance.
Pushing forward he thrusted his fingers inside. It was a snug fit, but your arousal dripping over his knuckles made it easy. He immediately curled his fingers, expertly prodding at that sensitive spot inside that made you squirm underneath him and buck your hips involuntarily.
“Shh,” Joel soothed you, fingers still pushing up, hitting something that made your leg shake involuntarily as he circled them against the delicate flesh.
Shit. Fuck.
You mewled, whiny breaths falling from your lips as you hurled quickly towards the edge, again. Joel didn’t let up, thrusting his fingers expertly into that perfectly sensitive spot. When your right leg couldn’t stop shaking, he slung his other arm over your stomach, keeping you in place for him.
“That’s it, sweet girl, that’s your g-spot, honey,” he cooed between lapping and sucking at your clit, “Are you gonna come again, baby? You can let go– ‘s okay.”
The added pressure of his arm sent your hurling towards your release. Your back arched off his bed at a particular perfect thrust; your breath coming out panting and breathless.
“Joel–” you heaved, “J-Joel, I-I’m—,” you couldn’t finish your thought. You clenched around his fingers, a pressure building like you’d never felt before – you felt like you were about to explode.
Joel sucked hard on your clit before he moved his lips off with a soft pop, “C’mon, honey,” he coaxed, stopping his thrusting fingers to massage at your g-spot, “Be a good girl f’me and come all over my fingers.”
With his permission you came with a silent cry, eyes squeezed tight as your whole body arched off the bed, your head pressed tightly into the mattress as you let it wash over you. It was like your body clenched and released all at the same time. Small tears trickled down your temples, your body shaking from the force of your orgasm. You gushed over his fingers, and Joel pulled his fingers from your wasted hole at the exact right moment, right as a stream of liquid released.
You were somewhere else entirely, floating away on a cloud of ecstasy you’d never felt before – the feeling so intense, it made your eyes roll back. Beside you, you felt the bed dip. Still shaking from your orgasm, you heaved for your breath, trying to come down. Joel’s arms snaked their way around you, pushing you against his body as he cooed and hushed you.
“You’re alright, sweet girl,” he mumbled against your temple, “squirting all over my hand like a good girl.”
“Joel, I–” You were still catching your breath, still reeling from the intensity.
“You’re ok, baby.”
He held you close until you’d fully calmed down, and your heartbeat had steadied. You let yourself be held, to just be. Joel pressed absentminded kisses to your skin. One on your cheek, another to the pulse of your neck, a third to your collarbone. He was amazing. He was yours.
“Thank you, Joel,” you finally spoke, “I’ve– I’ve never done that before, it… it felt really good.”
Joel pressed another kiss to your cheek, “You’re welcome, baby– you looked so fuckin’ hot comin’ like that.”
He pressed another kiss to your cheek before he pulled away. Standing to his feet he stretched his back with a groan. You watched how his muscles moved underneath his shirt. He must’ve felt you watching him as he sent you a cocky smile over his shoulder before he padded towards the door of his en suite.
You turned onto your stomach, your eyebrows pulling together in a furrow as you asked him, “Where are you going?”
“Just gonna getchu ya somethin’ to clean up with,” he explained, nodding his head towards his en suite.
“But…” you trailed off, eyes flicking sheepishly towards his bulge, his cock rock hard and straining against his jeans.
He caught your eye, his trademark cocky smirk spreading. Joel turned his body towards you, and let you ogle him as he crept towards you. “But, what?” he questioned, one teasing eyebrow raised.
“What about…” you bit your lip, heat flushing your cheeks. He’d made you squirt for fucks sake, and you still couldn’t ask him for his cock.
“What about what?” he teased, standing at the end of the bed, his hard cock now eye level with how you were sitting. He watched you from above, how you flicked your eyes from his face to his cock, trying to tell him what you wanted without saying the words.
“You want more, greedy girl?” he questioned, cupping your cheek and angling your face towards him, “You want my cock, don’t you?”
You nodded in his hand, big moony eyes looking up at him. Joel shifted his weight, his hand traveling from your cheek to your chin, letting his thumb run over it in a smooth motion.
“Take my clothes off,” he ordered.
Sitting up on your knees, your hands started fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. Above you, Joel watched you – warm eyes studying you. Unbuttoning the last button, you placed a nervous hand to his chest, right above his heart. Under your palm you felt it beat, fast paced, but steady. With a scrunch of your face, you looked to him.
“Yeah,” he chuckled, fitting his own hand over yours, “I’m crazy ‘bout you, sweet girl.” He dipped his head to fit a soft kiss to your lips.
He helped you with the rest of his clothes. His shirt hitting the floor first, then followed by his belt and his jeans, and lastly his socks. Clad only in his white briefs, you took him in. His handsome face, his neat mustache, his tanned skin and broad shoulders, but most importantly (at least in this moment), his aching cock.
“Take it out f’me,” he ordered.
Obeying his command, your fingers dug into the elastic. His rock hard cock strained desperately against the cotton, a wet spot had formed where the head was, turning the fabric translucent from precum. You pulled his briefs down his legs, his impressive cock springing free to bob in front of your face. Joel stepped out of his underwear, kicking them across the floor to the pile with his other clothes.
You moved up the bed as he crawled over you, parting your legs for him to fit between as you laid back against his fluffy pillows, the scent of him overwhelming. His cock rubbed against your cunt, the head catching on your clit as he adjusted himself over you.
“This whatchu wanted, sweet girl?” he asked, guiding the tip through your folds, and coating himself in your arousal.
“Y-yes, Joel, please,” you begged, “want you.”
Between your legs he jerked himself off, spreading your wetness all over his cock, a slick wet sound squelching from his fist. Joel’s eyes trailed over your body before he shook his head.
“Sit up,” he said.
Confused, you did as he said, sitting up on your knees before him. Joel shifted on the bed, leaning his back against the headrest, his impressive cock standing to attention in his lap.
“C’mon baby, come take what’s yours,” he said, reaching his hand out to you and helping you straddle his thighs.
Looking between your bodies, you couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated. Each time you’d had sex, Joel was always the one in control, but now… Your teeth caught on your bottom lip, insecurity an uninvited guest in the home you’d made in Joel’s bed.
Warm hands cupped your cheeks then, lifting your head to meet his. “You’re alright, my sweet girl,” he told you, fitting his lips against yours, “wanna feel you squeezin’ my cock.”
With Joel’s guiding hands, you lifted yourself over him as he guided the head towards your entrance, the head of his cock pushing through your folds. “Take it slow ‘f ya need it,” he told you, reassuring you. With a timid nod, you shifted your weight slightly, steading yourself on your knees before you slowly sunk down on him.
Your mouth dropped open at the stretch, never really getting used to the size of him – even with the thorough prep he’d done to you. You took your time, easing yourself down on him one inch at a time till he was buried to the hilt in your cunt. He was so deep inside you in this position, you felt him in your tummy, too deep for a cock to reach.
“Shit,” you cursed with a whimper, feeling Joel’s thighs press against your bare ass.
“That’s it, good fuckin’ girl, knew you could do it– takin’ all that cock f’me,” he praised as you tried to adjust to the feeling of him reaching so deep inside you. His hand landed on the small of your back, pushing you closer to his chest and making you rock forward in his lap.
“Y-you’re so deep like this,” you stuttered, draping your arms around his shoulder to steady yourself as his cock hit a new angle inside you, and making you see stars.
“I know, sweet girl, I know– feels good, don’t it?” he cooed, and rocked you in his lap again. Your clit caught in the coarse hair at the base of his cock, and it made a gush of arousal drip down his cock.
You nodded your head desperately. It felt good, it felt really good.
“Why don’t ya bounce on it f’me, honey– make yourself come.”
Again, you obeyed.
You started slow, inching upwards just a tad before grinding down on him again, working yourself up and down his length at your own pace. Below you, Joel watched you closely, a lazy smile spread across his face. His hand on your waist helped guide you, and soon you were bouncing on his cock like an eager little bunny.
“Fuck,” you cursed between moans.
The drag of his cock inside you felt like nothing you’d ever felt before. Love and ecstasy and pleasure – all mixed up into one infatuated feeling. Under you, Joel groaned unabashedly. The noises he made, deep and rugged as he started to meet your bouncing with his own thrusts, building a rising rhythm of pleasure.
“Feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” he groaned, “squeezin’ my cock so good.”
“Uh-uh,” you nodded, mind gone completely blank.
The feeling of him filling you just right with every thrust and hitting that special spot inside you, were almost too much to handle. Your thighs burned with the effort, and you didn’t know how much more you could take before he was hurling you over the edge for the fourth time.
“You gonna come again, sweet girl? Gonna be my good girl and give me ’nother? Give that big cock a nice squeeze?” he encouraged.
You were far too gone to say anything coherent and when his thumb found your clit, you knew you were in trouble. Your legs shook from pleasure and the strain of your bouncing, and you fell forward, your head finding a home in his neck as you gasped. Joel worked quickly and expertly, shifting your weight on his lap so he could thrust into you from below. Breathy whiny moans escaped you in quick succession, and then you were falling apart for him with a cry.
“That’s my good girl,” he praised you through gritted teeth as you withered in his lap, squirming and gasping in his lap. Your walls fluttered and pulsed around his cock as you rode through your orgasm. Under you, Joel’s breath became shallower and his grunts more restrained, and even in your cloud of ecstasy you knew he was close.
“Fuck, ‘m comin’” he let out, quickly lifting you off his cock before he spilled hot cum onto your tummy and mound, his panting moan deep and guttural. It was hot and sticky and suffocating in a good way.
As the sun set over LA, you and Joel found refuge in each other under the pink and orange sky. Your panting breaths slowed to a still comforting silence as you held each other close, and you knew that there was nowhere else you’d rather be.
You had been unable to see it before, or simply just unwilling to let yourself see it, but the answer had been on the tip of your tongue all along. Joel had been the missing piece of your puzzle, the part you'd never even known you'd needed until he'd slotted himself securely into that space, completing your life in a way your family had never been able to. Being with Joel felt right, and if there was one thing you did know, was that no matter what your uncle said or did, or what your parents would think, you were done making sacrifices.
And so you laid in Joel's arms, your chest unraveling with the relief of the knowledge that for maybe the first time in your life, you were making a choice entirely for yourself, and that, given the chance, you would choose Joel, every day, for the rest of your life.
and that's the end <3 if this was a movie we'd slowly fade to a drone shot of LA while cher's cover of "lay baby lay" starts playing as the credits roll over the cityscape.
i hope this was okay, and that the ending was satisfying and that you liked it? as always feedback as a comment, in the tags, as an ask or reply is very much appreciated, and they make me super happy! <3 i'm very curious to hear your thoughts about this! <3
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