Very, Very Brief WIP Smut Of That X Fem!reader I'm Making Of Graham.

⚠️NSFW warning under the cut. Just a random realization I had.⚠️

So since Griffin Rock is like.... known for its advanced technology... imagine the sex toys? Freaky ass thought, I know, but the thought occurred. I've been watching this show since I was a little kid, and now, as an 18 yr old, the thought came to mind.

Like, the rose toy vibrator and the hitachi wand were already a staple in the sex toy industry. Then we invented a showerhead SPECIALLY made for female masturbation, which was a game changer. Imagine what kinda shit Griffin Rock has?

Do what you will with that food for thought, yall.

One part of me wants him to manhandle me, and the other part of me wants to ma'amhandle him. The duality of a woman.

the salesman is just so big I’m obsessed with him

towering at 6ft with those broad shoulders and big hands… he’s deceptively lean but every inch of his body is corded muscle and pure strength, enough to throw you around and really make you hurt with minimal effort… mmmmmmmm

Reblogging for later, no, cuz tell me why I was also thinking of making an x reader where the reader takes the Salesman down a peg😭

A Game of Cat and Mouse - The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Follow Up Piece to: Freak of Nature On Display

Synopsis: Tired of being followed by the man in the grey suit, you decide the turn the tables

Warnings: Stalking, voyeurism, mentions of masturbation, the Salesman being kind of a sub

He was following you again. The man in the grey suit with the brown leather briefcase that probably cost more than you earned in a month. You clocked him about 100 yards back, his reflection visible in a shop window. You didn’t know how long you’d been playing this game of cat and mouse for. Any normal person would have been terrified at the prospect of being stalked, but there was something about the man who followed you that you found undeniably attractive. The day after he’d paid for your coffee, he was back out on the park bench, watching you from afar. You pretended not to notice him, going about your work as if he wasn’t there. Some days however, he would sit with you, making idle conversation as you watched the world pass by. You knew he followed you home, and one night you saw him sitting outside the restaurant across from you apartment. He noticed you too and raised his glass of soju in acknowledgement.

What was it that drew him to you? You weren’t anything special, weren’t anyone important. You were just you. You led a mundane life, filled with days that were all pretty much the same. Perhaps that was why you liked your new stalker; he injected the excitement that was so desperately missing from your world. You knew nothing about him, not even his name, but you were sure he knew lots about you.

You weren’t far from your apartment now, only two more minutes and you be safely behind your door. But you were tired of being safe; you wanted to see your grey suited man again, wanted to hear his voice, wanted to watch the wild way his almond eyes explored your body. You ducked round a corner, backtracking through an alleyway that ran down the side of your apartment. You could see your grey suited man from behind now, an angle you’d never seen before. He looked good from behind, with perfect posture, and an ass that looked great in his suit. He stopped, noticing you were no longer in front of him. you couldn’t see his face, couldn’t see the confused expression that flitted across his perfect features. Sneaking up behind him, you waited until you were inches away from him before whispering into his ear. “I guess this time I’m the cat, and you’re the mouse.”

He swivelled around to meet you, his eyes blazing with an expression you couldn’t read. “You’re not the only one with tricks up your sleeve, Mr Grey Suit,” you smiled, watching his eyes widen as he took you in. No one had ever bested him before, but you’d managed to outsmart him today. “Clever girl,” he purred, “I enjoy our little game.” You’d left him speechless that day at the coffee house, and today was no exception. You were so much more than he ever could have dreamed of, so suited to his needs and desires that he wasn’t sure he could hold back much longer. He liked playing with your mind, but he longed to play with your body too. He wanted to feel you squirm against him, wanted to hear you moan for him as he figured out how far he could push you. “Will you be dining across the street tonight?” you asked, fiddling with the top button of your shirt. He shifted in his Prada loafers, a flash of hunger in his eyes. “Potentially,” he mused, “or perhaps I might find an alternative option to satisfy my tastes.” You both knew he was lying; he was far too hooked on you to get his kicks elsewhere. “Shame,” you pouted, knowing you had him right where you wanted him. “I was going to give you a little show. Maybe next time.” With that, you turned on your heel and left your grey-suited man standing dumbstruck in the street.

That night, he was in his usual spot outside the restaurant. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Your grey suited stalker was becoming predictable now. But, you’d promised him a show, and a show he would get. You nudged the curtain open just a touch, enough that he could see you from where he was sitting.

He watched you from across the street, saw you move the curtain and give him full view of your figure. You were wearing nothing but a tiny silk robe, the dusty mauve colour the perfect contrast against your skin. You unbelted the robe achingly slowly, and he could feel his erection pushing against the fabric of his pants. The robe fell to the floor, and you stood in a matching lingerie set, your fingers running up and down your body. You were teasing him, toying with him. He’d never been teased before, and he aching cock responded to you in a way he’d never felt before. he shifted in his seat, desperate to quell the rising sensation of unbearable lust. He watched you slip your bra strap down, watched as you slowly lowered the cup just enough to show him the faintest outline of your breast. He audibly groaned, downing his glass of soju to quieten his desire. If he knocked on the door, would you let him in? He’d never been at the mercy of someone before, always being the one who played with people. But you seemed to enjoy torturing him. As if reading his mind, you shook your head, your finger delicately tracing your nipple. No, you wouldn’t let him in tonight. But he’d need you soon, otherwise he might go insane.

That night he pleasured himself to the image of you in your apartment, the delicate lingerie so perfectly contouring your curves. He’d have you soon, there was no doubt about that. You were a tease, but he hadn’t fully shown you what he was capable of yet.

Creampie? Check. Spitplay? Check. Pathetically submissive man? Check. Mutual orgasm? Check. Cute office guy? Check. Pussy eating? Check. Squirting? Check. Pathetic jerk-off? Check. A taste of dacryphillia in the end?!??!! Check! This. This is peak. Best fanfic I've read by far, absolute literature, top tier writing, don't be so hard on yourself like I literally loved this so much.

‘below the mouth’ j. sunderland x fem reader

minors dni

cw: in the dark, shoe riding/humping, light oral fixation/spit play, slightly messy, james is depicted as a pervert, sub leaning james with him being dominant at times, obsessive(j.), mutual masturbation(?), squirting, breeding, james is in his mid to late thirties. reader uses she/her pronouns.

summary: james… your coworker. the man who seems so hardworking, headstrong and devoted to his work… is nothing but a pervert enticed with the very being that you are… he can’t help but to see you as art— a canvas to paint on… as if his hands were paint… and his fingertips as the bristles, sketching out his greed with his lips and his words.

a/n: more porn than plot, forgive me. not too fond of this one and kept eyeing it over and over over and ended up truly hating this… nonetheless i hope you find some enjoyment in this one. i did not proofread…

oh james… what ever shall he do?

poor thing, constantly wrapped up in his own mind… unable to tame the growing thoughts that mutated within him. being lonely does things to a person… the years of suppression only made his longing for intimacy fester in the darkness of his greed.

in the beginning… it had been alright— good with his composure, carrying a kind of elegance through his actions and words. he wore ‘respect’ like an honorable man— button down shirts, tucked nicely in his well ironed pants. every day he’d come in dapper, not one thing out of place. it would be impressive to notice his true desires when he hadn’t worn them out on his sleeves.

though now… it was a different story. there’s only so much he could take… seeing you in your work outfits every single day or hearing your voice… the song you sung that never failed to make him treasure your being and feel every vowel that spewed from your lips filter and sprawl all throughout his veins. james tried to keep his need low, always being so gentleman like— kind, thoughtful and charming, but his thickening puddle of lust seeped through in the growing void that rests in the center of his eyes… being far dirtier than what meets the eye, disgusting even.

it was cute once you picked up on it… or at least the extent of it— his shyness and ability to lose all self, unable to maintain professional eye contact or a flowing sentence without randomly clearing his throat. a man well into his thirties— one that was valued by your shared boss, exceeding work ethic, always saying ‘yes ma’am’ and ‘yes sir’, not blinking an eye to the rule’s code— felt the need to act so foolishly enticed when it came to you.

for him, the absence of touch— one that he never felt come from your hand — drove james into a constant state of lustrous want… it ate within his being like a hungered cannibal digging its fingers through every fiber of his flesh. it prodded and ripped in the center of his chest like a wolf's canines as he sat at his work desk, drained… lifeless… thinking about everything he wanted to do to you… or whatever you’d do to him.

the inside of his body grew hot at the thought of you— dry throat, racing heart, fumbling words… his eyes, lingering all over your body longer than they had the day before, trying to see how much he could get away with… letting every second store itself in his photographic memory.

infested with carnality, day and night. james’ mind couldnt escape his perverted thoughts; as if it was the horrid and angry deep sea, crashing against the softness of the hot sand, in need of something to fix prurience, and the heightening want to be underneath your skin.

it started off with a hello, you being new and him well within the company’s community by a decade or two. a sweet exchange of a firm gripped hand shake and small talk before you went on your way. upon his sight, he was already fond of the beauty you blossomed. he wasn’t able to stop himself from looking… and as time continued, each day you met with him, it caused him to be in his head.

whenever you agreed to go out with your coworkers to local bars and restaurants, he’d ask around, passively, wanting to know if you’d be there to join. any chance he’d get, he’d sit next to you or across from you, thinking that the lack of lighting would hide the fact that he sat there to study you— his gentle hazel eyes, staring with eagerness… tattooing you into the grooves of his brain. each time you all went out, it was as if he tried harder… or lost the ability to care if you noticed or not. catching his eyes… for the first few seconds he didn’t even realize your attention on him until you’d call out his name a few times or lean towards him, breasts spilling from your top.

he’d go home, all eager. undoing his tie and his belt, slamming his door shut and making his way towards his bed, muttering: “just this once…” to himself, staring down at his hardened dick after thinking about the way your breasts sat prettily in the top you wore.

with his eyes squeezed shut, his wrist rippled in fast motion with whitening knuckles. he’d call out your name. each whinier than the last… feeling the weight of your name kiss the head of his cock— irregular breathing, toes curling into the thick of his comforter— whines that turned into a chants. over and over again he moaned your name, not even lasting three minutes until he let himself go… ribbons of his hot cum falling down onto his chest.

shame filtered his body almost instantaneously, not understanding how he was able to let himself go just from a simple top you wore… he swore to himself that that would be the first and only time he’d ever do something like that— to rush into his house just to relieve the growing hard on that you, without much acknowledgment, gave him.

and for a few days, he hadn’t. it didn’t stop the stares or the way his cock jumped upon hearing your voice… he’d just fall back into the same perverted state, clutching onto the arm of his work chair while you talked to him about something he couldn’t even pay much attention to. he saw the outline of your body against your work outfit thinking about how you’d look if he ripped it off.

his breathing quickened as he tried to direct his gaze on something else, his computer… maybe his paperwork? it didn’t help because he could still hear you fucking speak.

a sharp gulp and a shaky sigh— it was the most obvious he’s ever been, sensing the way he was unable to sit still. “james?” you called out, amusement lingering in the tone of your voice.

“uhm.” he huffed, a faint smirk curling at the side of his lips, trying to keep his composure as much as he could. “sorry… im not feeling too well.” turning his head to you, seeing a warm, devious yet alluring smile rest on your lips. almost immediately, he reacted. swallowing hard and clearing his throat.

walking towards where the man sat, you placed your hand at his shoulder, feeling the softness of his suit glide against your palm, finding his averting eyes, “do you need me to… get you anything?”

he shook his head, flinching upon touch, dropping his attention into his lap where his hands bunched to cover the obvious dent. “it… it’s fine. i just have to use the restroom… excuse me.” his voice quick and slurred, body immediately jumping up from his chair as he made his way to the men’s bathroom.

the beat of his heart ran heavily in his ribcage, causing his body to burn and wither as he laid himself limply against the bathroom’s door. each inhale was harder to stabilize— the air feeling heavy and clunky as it lumped and fell down his throat. with the soft jingle of his belt, he pulled his pants and underwear down to his knees, “god…” he sighed, wrapping his hand around his cock— hot and tortured, “why do you… why do you turn me on so much?”

soft chokes and mutters fell in the echoing bathroom’s walls, covering his mouth creating muffled whimpers to exude and swell. his body churned and trembled, hearing the loose hinges of the door combat with his movement. “fuck… fuck…” he whined, his eyes traveling up to see the mirror across the way.

the sight of himself… it almost looked like his own reflection was a stranger. no person has ever made him have the need to run for a quick release… at least not from their voice alone. it was just how eager he was— how eager you made him— the look of his knees buckling, the pace of his pumps, the skin of his face shake and the way he desperately tried to keep himself quiet… he looked so pathetic to himself, never seeing that side or noticing how much you made him that way just from the sight of you.

in a way… it turned him on, getting a better picture of what you’d see if you were to stand in this very bathroom. thoughts grappled through his visionary mind, his vision shooting towards different places in the bathroom, looking at the sink: how pretty you’d look, pants down your legs with him fucking up into you, your own eyes in the mirror, watching yourself getting fucked by him. or in the stall: your fingers clutching harshly at the stall’s door with his fingers deeply plunging itself inside of your cavern.

a million and one things infiltrated his desires until he couldn’t find himself to stop even after the first time he came onto the bathroom’s floor. his wrist burned with the consistent motion, after his cock hadn’t let up its hardness, moaning as quietly as he could to have himself go limp.

thirty minutes he spent in there… and for him to be known to cum quick… it only meant that he rung himself dry. he couldn’t even walk straight— you knowingly understanding the weight of power you had over him after you timed his absence and him finally waddling back into his chair.

“you alright?” you laugh sweetly, being as oblivious as you could possibly be within his perspective, trying not to stare at the small wet spot that circled at his crotch.

“yeah…” his voice trembling, still in a daze from his multiple orgasms, “must’ve ate something funny…”

after that day… jerking off in the office’s bathroom, there was no turning back— as if that was the only reason that would’ve been true. there was no way he’d be able to contain the continuous passion that resonated all throughout his body— as if you talked to him through your idle.

days would pass and he’d show himself more and more obvious, losing the care to show off his usual persona. he’d take one of your handkerchiefs you left on your desk when you hadn’t been around, tucking them in his pockets only to inhale the left over scent that interwoven itself into its soft cloth, using it almost every night until all he could smell was his own scent. he’d hold onto your wrist when trying to grab your attention, clutching it until he felt the gentle pulse, syncing with the growing hard on he’d feel build and tighten at the crotch of his pants.

on random days, he’d listen when you spoke to other’s about the dates you’ve been on, hearing how they werent satisfying you— filling his brain with possible ways he’d make you feel good. taking you out to eat with good food and wine with an even better conversation only to have him balls deep inside of you just for you to remember nothing from anyone in your past and only form yourself at the outline of his cock.

on a sunny afternoon, you had a held a party for your birthday— all the coworkers you found as friends, including james— in your house for drinks, food and good music. you kept your eye on him as much as you could without making it obvious that the only reason for the party was to see how he’d react now being so close to you.

he showed nothing but nervousness, almost never leaving the cushions from your couch, not even drinking or eating for that matter. he looked uncomfortable… or maybe he was just deep in thought. it only took one look away for him to disappear, his lack of person and the indent of where he sat on the couch to be shown.

james decided he needed more… that handkerchief wasn’t enough since your scent was gone and his imaginations made his want physically hurt considering he wasn’t able to touch you like he wished he could.

finding his way to your room, he rummaged through your dirty laundry, finding a pair of black panties, keeping it to himself. in a cold sweat, he knew that he had time to spare, whipping his head back and forth from the cloth towards your bedroom door before he sat on your bed, rolling his thumb at the crotch of your underwear.

deep and staggered breaths, he rose it up to his nose, smelling the soiled cloth, noticing how these pair must’ve been worn during your arousal, his cock reacting like wildfire— choking at the lack of air he gave himself from the constant huffing he did. each inhale was like heaven. god… your pussy smelt so good… better than he could imagine. the muscle of his tongue sliding at the left over cream marks left, his moans staggering, almost in need of crying at how good this action made him feel.

placing the underwear in his mouth, he grabbed what was closest to him— your pillow— angling his body to get himself off. luckily with how loud the music had been outside, no one would be able to hear the brash creeks of your bed as he humped himself to oblivion. hips snapping, fingers curling into your bed’s unmade sheets with his face planted deep within them as he sniffed whatever your body’s scent leftover.

this is what he wanted… this is what he feened for. only orgasming once, he fixed your bed trying to replicate as if he had never been on it, tucking the panties… and one more in his pants pocket and walking out of your bedroom.

met with him, you smiled, noticing the lust that fumed off of his person, not making it seem as if you knew, “what’re you doing in there? the parties out there silly.” you laughed.

“yeah! i was just looking for the bathroom.” he gulped.

nodding, you ran your tongue over the bottom of your lip, eyeing how his hair wasn’t as neat as it had been before and his shirt wasn’t tucked in as it usually was. “it’s just down there.”

“thank you.” scattering down the hall.

upon entering your room, all you could smell was the foreign aroma of his arousal, smiling at how you didn’t even had to do anything to him physically let alone verbally and he got so worked up. riddled with temptation, you knew you had this man wrapped around your finger, obliging with his action and giving him more with your seductive nature.

it was more noticeable now— how you both operated whenever with each other. anyone could just sense it, feel it, cut it in the thickening air of their razor nails. the body languages, the way you both spoke, the way your eyes spoke with extreme intent.

the tingling sensation rose within your body, almost electrifying you whenever you heard your name being called by him— his natural rasp that croaked from his throat, huddling over your eardrums with bliss. you could only guess what he did that day when he bolted off into the bathroom. it was obvious. feeling your attraction grow by his attentiveness and the willingness of him trying so desperately to be beside you… just thinking about him got you so worked up.

it was fun witnessing his obvious need to separate himself just to get off… but the poor boy needed solace you thought to yourself.

he was being such a good boy, trying so hard not to put himself onto you, being respectful enough, kind and excusing himself but you decided to take charge— have him finally able to get what he wanted and what you were curious about.

one night, you took that advantage as everyone else had dispersed from the office, it had only been you two, him hunched in his chair, face glowing from his computer screen and you packing all of your work to go home. he usually stayed overtime, having his own set of keys the boss left because of his repetitive stay.

now you stood within his space, the office dark, a low hum coming from james not even noticing your silhouette that stood just at his cubicle. “you going home?” you spoke out, your voice lulling out.

startled, he turned at his chair, swallowing down the large lump that rested at his throat. “oh!” he chirped, looking back and forth at the shadow that made up of you and his computer screen. “uh not yet… there’s some things i have to finish.”

“could it wait? just for a little?”

furrowing his eyebrows, he sat confused, noticing the tone of your voice, feeling his palms dampen, rubbing them roughly at his pant legs.

oh how cute he was acting.

“sorry i..” he chuckled nervously, “im confused.”

sucking at your tongue, you stepped forward, the screen’s light falling at your outline, exposing the lust that mixed in with the devious expression that wore on your face. “don’t give me that look,” you cooed, closing the distance between you both until your feet planted themselves just before him. “tell me, what has you still in this office this late at night?”

“uhm yeah…” he chuckled again, his words slow as he spoke about the finishing touches of a project that had been due in a few days. quite honestly, you hadn’t cared much to know, you just enjoyed the random inhales of breath in between his words as he tried to keep his composure at bay.

“such a good man you are. i take it your work ethic is better than all of us combined?”

he cleared his throat, tilting his head in nervousness at the choice of words that trickled down, aiming at his spine with him tensing in his chair. “th… thank you.”

“but you should take a break, you seem all pent up. that isn’t healthy, don’t you think?”

“what do you purpose?” he asked with you humming in response.

the silence between that fell in the air was loud, burning against your eardrums until you heard his breathing coming in shallow wheezes, his chest tightening as his heart hammered at his ribcage. he couldn’t even look at you… his head couldn’t lift itself from his hands, fingers tangling with themselves.

“can you look at me?” you soothed.

no response was given, just the raise of his body at every heavy inhale.

“look at me james…” your voice now coming out as a whisper, using your hand to curl at his jaw, feeling the roughness of the stubble that ran alongside it. at a gentle lift, his face rose, his eyes staggering to follow until you saw the gentle, puppy-eyed man lock himself onto you. “that’s it..”

at the tilt of his head, his body hiccuped in a trickling gasp. every memory of him being by himself, jerking his hardening cock, the sounds of his own pleasuring cries echoed in his brain. it burned at his cheeks with a peach strain— embarrassed but enamored by the sway of your lulling voice and kind eyes. the cold that emitted from your hand felt like static, almost foreign, unable to comprehend that you where here, actually touching him and it wasn’t just his perverted mind conjuring up a scene of you having your way with him.

just by your simple touch, it felt raw and ravenous—body stiffening like tainted brittle bones… his spine slowly contorting in a fidgeting arch, like christ himself pressed his jellied pierced palms across the flesh of an aching wound. “fuck…” he breathed, giving up on his lose of current reality, placing his own hand on top of yours, sliding it more onto his own face. he buried himself in it, eyes closing, falling into a blissful state, feeling the warmth that blossomed and coddled at his skin.

his mind and his body was starved… in need of you as if the only sin he knew was nothing but greed— believing the palms of your hands was magic, a bandage to a scab, an antidote to a sickness. you did nothing but stand there, watching him revel in pleasure just from your hand now stroking his face slowly and delicately, admiring the sweet yet sorrowful pout drawn at his lips.

“follow my words.” you spoke, interrupting the silence between you both, “can you do that for me james?”

his eyes dilated, feeling his stomach drop hearing his name being called. it drove him mad and it only was because of your voice— so gentle and sweet, thick as if he could gnaw on it. “yes…” he finally answered.

standing behind him, you let the pressure of your hands massage his back, feeling the tension reside in his shoulders. you could feel his irregular breathing at every push your fingers gave, knuckles whitening at the clutch of his pant legs. “oh wow you’re so tense… why is that?”

“just… all the work is getting to me.”

“yeah?” your voice obvious in sensuality, hearing his grunt when you let the pressure fall a little rougher. a quiet exchange of noises bounced back and forth with comforting and pent up sighs, spending a good few minutes, trailing your hands down the sides of his arms, “you’re pretty built underneath this suit.” you teased.

clenching his eyes tight, he screamed at himself internally, trying to speak to his cock to not harden but it failed, looking down at his lap and seeing what the computer’s light was able to show, letting out a quiet laughing hum. you had him now…

“stand… and kiss me.”

and so he stood, his arms awkwardly at his sides, broadcasting his awful posture as he waited for your next move. from a simple swift movement, your hand met with the back of his neck, pulling him in, pressing your lips against his. the sync of your lips were soft and slow but quickly it changed by the lead of his tongue that cascaded along the bottom of yours, inhaling the hitching breath as his fingers played with the bottom of his suit jacket.

gentle grunts hummed against your flesh, opening your lips to oblige by his speed, noting the way he drank your existence in the exchange of your mouths. his tongue fluttered against yours, rolling the tip of his muscle against the ridges of your teeth, spit spilling down one another’s chins as your bodies fell closer into one another feeling the pattern of your breathing fall as one.

your leg pressed in the middle of his, feeling his bulge rub against you with a higher pitched moan being a gift of your sudden embrace.

the air was hot and heavy despite the chill from the office that hugged you both, "ride it.." you moaned in between the kiss, moving your leg in slow grinds, feeling the heat that emitted from his clothed cock weave through your work pants.

“okay…” he answered back, removing himself from the kiss as his hips started to buck forward in motion with your leg’s movement.

his body couldn’t keep up with the burning passion that continued to spread through his body, starting with the aching sensation that rested at his cock.

no words had been exchanged, only moans as if it that was the only language you both understood— the lack of light only being laminated by the moon that fell through the windows and the computer screen. your hand strengthened its grip, foreheads pressed against one another, feeling his leg fall in between your leg in the midst of his grinds.

both of you fell in lust with the eager grinds you shared, hearing the rut of clothes being rubbed against one another, his unknowing hands, placing its purpose at your hips, gripping incredibly tight, pulling you closer at every hungered thrust, your eyes gulping the color of his.

he moved his body, you whining quietly at the empty feeling of his knee. he dropped down, leveling his face at your legs, pressing kisses starting at your ankle and to your knee, moving his lips as his tongue peaked through, letting spit form and absorb in the cloth of your pants until he reached your waist.

"may i...?” he whimpered, a smile curling at your lips, nodding with his fingers making its way to your shirt, yanking it upwards which made you gasp at the sudden movement. he continued his kiss, the cold inhale of his breath washing against your skin as he pressed his lips at the lining of your peaking underwear, running his tongue alongside it.

with a deep press of his lips, he left wet marks, pressing his face into your stomach, his head dragging all the way up your torso, inhaling the sweet smell of your detergent as well as the soap that coated your skin, until he stood once again, finding your neck, taking a bite without much warning— feeling the flesh sink between the spaces in his teeth. 'so soft', he thought, letting his lips latch and suck roughly, as he used his unoccupied hand to pull your body closer to him.

his tongue rippled and rolled against the aching bitten part of your neck, popping himself off before he pressed a kiss at the hem of your ear, "is this real?" he whispered, pressing more kisses at the side of your face. it felt prosperous, feeling his lips scatter the smooth surface of your face, neck and ear— fingers prodding the side of your waist.

"can you say it… please?” releasing a sharp gasped whisper, his nose dragging along your cheek, sighing out a moan. "say…my name... i need to hear your voice.”

"james..." you exhaled, enjoying the way he wanted nothing but your time and your attention. he made you feel sexy.. desirable, like his own drug that he was unable to let go or take control of. every touch felt purposeful, hungry… soft with a strain of roughness.

"no... louder. say it... please say it louder." his words breathless, cracking each time his voice dipped in register, letting open mouthed kisses to gently press onto your skin.

"james!" your voice rose, saying it over and over at every press of his lips you felt, his moans talking back to each time he heard his name flutter from your throat. your voice felt like it was running down his spine and settling itself right at his cock. you adored how cute he was without even knowing that you wanted to devour him— the sharp want to have him crumble in your embrace.

“fuck..” he cried sweetly, his voice breaking down in harmony. you placed your hands at his shoulders pushing him down as he obeyed your forceful action, him now on his knees.

without a thought, you pressed the bottom of your shoe at his obvious bulge, pressing your weight on it, his body shuddering with his lips ajar. “tell me…” your diction sounding breathless, feeling the outline of him through the sole of your shoe, “do you think of me… while you touch yourself.” his eyes growing, surprised and slightly worried— not as if it wasn’t telling he came at the thought of you.

he couldn’t answer, only giving a harsh swallow and swiveling hips, humping into the sole of your shoe.

“come on pretty boy… answer… i know you do it.”

“yes…” he gulped, “i do… i do. all the fucking time.” he admitted, his words flowing fast with his hips coming at the same speed.

placing your foot down on the floor, he immediately straddled, hands grabbing onto your calf for support as his hips rippled and rutted deeply into you like a horned dog. whimpers roared through the office’s enclosure. he felt dizzy, drunk within the lust that spewed between you both. it was pitiful but cute— losing all forms of self just to hump on your shoe.

grasping his jaw, he looked up at you, eyebrows knitted in pleasure as his hair bounced in movement, leaning down the gather spit, letting it fall into his opened mouth. he drank it instantaneously, nodding at the new action he had never done before. your spit tasted sweet, filling his mouth with an extended tongue in need of more.

and so you did, this time more forceful, some falling at the side of his lip, falling down his jaw and chin.

something about how he acted, the way he presented himself and the way his nervousness wore him so brightly. you could hear it his voice, in his moans, see in his eyes, face and body— nothing he had in display for you showed you otherwise. cupping the side of his face as your thumb gently stroked the warmth of his cheek, making his cock jump more than it already had.

“you like that don’t you baby?”

“uh huh…” he breathed, frantically nodding, letting his eyes drape towards your lips, seeing his tongue peak through, pressing your thumb at his plush lips, dragging them loosely, until his lips would tug, allowing his teeth to peak through before leaning in closer to his until being inches apart— irregular breathing brush against your mouth, as his nose nudges gently the side of yours, kissing you roughly… wet and raw. more spit escaping, coating all over.

“can i…” he spoke in between, “can i taste you?”

and with an accepting moan, his body rose, grabbing you until you sat on his desk, the light of his computer now black and the moon being the only source of light.

opening your legs, he leaned in, his middle finger ran between your clothed, wet slit. raising his head, he looked down at you, “holy fuck… how’re you so wet? i can feel it through your pants,” he taunted, gaining a small glint of confidence.

he lifted your shirt once more, just enough to show your full stomach as he held onto your waist, pressing his lips right beneath your breast, leaving slow, teasing kisses down your body with his eyes staring right up at you. his face met up in between, spreading your thighs apart more as he let his face set right in center, pressing his nose right in the indention where his finger once was, inhaling your sweet smell before rolling his tongue over her clothed pussy. “your pussy smells so sweet.” he breathed, his fingers curling at your pants and yanking them down until you were only left with them puddled at your feet and panties hugging your waist.

his mouth latched onto your clit, slowly sucking you right over your panties, feeling your throbbing bud feather against his tongue.

sliding your panties to the side, he saw the wetness connect from your pussy lips, to your clit, running all down your slit, immediately spreading your lips apart, seeing your whole view.

“so… pretty... god i wanna fuck it with my tongue. have my tongue so deep inside you, i can feel you clench yourself. can i… can i do that?” his eyes not leaving your face, seeing the limited and minimal expression the moon’s light allowed him to see, letting his tongue run up your slit as his mouth latches on.

nothing felt more pleasurable than to see the other pleased. his fingers trembled and ached to take you all in one go, but he believed you deserved more than that, you deserved to feel it run through every inch of your body. he wanted to prove that there’s levels you could reach that’ll make you feel like ecstasy.

his body burned as if he was on fire, feeling himself twitch at every small sound that exuded from your throat. “your voice, it turns me on so fucking much...” gripping onto your thighs, his nose nudging at your clit, mouth hovering over your cunt, drawing ribbons at the entrance of your pussy. he shook his head from side to side, your sweet scent filling his airway as he felt your slick coat the sides of his lips and the tip of his nose.

his tongue plunging itself into you, feeling your cunt pulsate alongside the bud of your clit. as his tongue worked along your slit and hole, repeatedly lapping at each entrance with the flat of their tongue. your scent and flavor enveloping his entire face, like a drug, and erotic perfume that he’d gladly wear if possible. his eyes drooping into a squint, his body loosening— expect the core of his tightening abdomen from holding his breath and their increasingly hard cock. thrusting his face as he began to fuck you with his tongue, hollowing his cheeks, continuing to pay close attention to your clit. pulling back, he licked his lips, gathering spit as he spat right on your cunt, followed by a little slap, rubbing with the palm of his hand against the new tingling sensation, “was that… was that too much?” he slurred, not thinking of the impact of what he had just done with the pleasured yelp you let out.

“you’re such a dirty boy…” you laughed, your hips breaking down as it planted itself more into his desk. “keep going… show me what a horny little thing like you thinks about while you touch yourself.”

drunk of you— the taste, the smell, he could feel a pit of sensation fuel right at the bottom of his abdomen. “hump my face baby, please…use me.”

with his tongue, he lifted your clitoral hood, centering his tongue right at your clit as he fluttered it as fast as his tongue allowed him too, feeling your expose bud jolt. using his other hand, he slid one finger in, curling it slightly as he slowly let it slide in and out, feeling your walls close. the sounds you let out couldn’t be controlled, admiring how he used your body like an art piece, finding his way to use every fragment of your being, getting off to your pleasure. each knuckle falling deeper, as he started to bring up his pace. so wet, you could hear it at each pump, and god did that turn him on. “listen to your pussy baby. my god you’re so wet..”

loving the feeling of your fingers that now laced in his hair, tugging at it whenever you felt so, feeling the tingle wash from down his scalp and spine, making him groan deeply against your, feeling it almost itch his own throat. his other hand pressing firmly against your stomach, rolling it up your body as he dragged the pads of his fingers down your torso, then thigh, letting them create small indentions in your smooth skin.

he watched as you squirmed as you watched how pathetically invested he looked hooked in pleasure— him yearning for this type of attention, as if he cried for it. his eyes begged and begged, his actions looking less and less sense and out of touch of reality. your hips, not having a rhythmic move to them, just rolling and humping as his face kept up with your sloppy hips.

he slide one more finger inside, curling that one as well as his others as he turned his wrist in a circular motion, almost drilling your cunt, pushing it in and out, trying to find your sweet spot. he lifted his head, letting a string of spit and slick connect from his lips and your pussy. “keep looking at me… please don’t stop.” the sting burning at his forearm— veins now prominent running from his fingers and down wrist. your pussy making the most loudest and obnoxious noise, syncing with the pacing of his hand and mouth.

his face traveled up, his face now hovering yours, paying close attention to your expression and the way you moaned for him, furrowing his eyebrows, “yeah? does it feel good right there?” he cooed, singing with your moans which filled the space that surrounded you both. he gathered spit in his mouth once more, letting it go straight into your mouth— your hand out of his hair and to his face, holding his jaw and feeling the grooves of his teeth by how hard you held it.

“god you’re so good for me.” you grunted, eyes almost rolling at the feeling of his fingers plunging at your cunt.

gritting through his teeth, “and you drive me insane…” pressing his mouth against yours once more as he started to sloppily kiss you— your slick already coating his mouth and tip of his nose, now swallowing your moans. his breathing was erratic and his demeanor changed, feeling a sense of lustful malice grow in his body.

hurriedly, you undid his pants, slipping your hand in his underwear, taking out his hot heavy cock, his body immediately reacting with his hand holding the desk beside you for support. without hesitation, you jerked his cock, finding the same speed of his plunging fingers.

shared and eager moans radiated from you both, whiny and pathetic, desperate and conjoined— the sweet sounds of your wet slick and his skin being tugged at his cock.

“don’t stop.” he strained, already feeling himself in need to release, never being one to last longer than he wished to.

spit dripping from one another’s mouths, the tension continued to rise, the familiar sensation cradling at your core as well as his. clenching around his fingers, your thighs started to close themselves, him quickly opening them as he breathed in a choked gasp.

“are you gonna cum for me?” you teased, knowing you were right where he was, his body twitching as he nodded in response, “cum for me… do it james.”

a loud groan crept as he removed your hand, replacing it with his as he jerked his cock in a speed you had never seen from another man, directing his slit right at your clit. spurts of his cum fell right at your clit, the sight being too much for you to handle— the head from it, sliding down to his fingers as he continued his hungered pumps, an orgasm ringing around it. it creamed thickly, white cuddling at his knuckles.

both of your bodies fell weak, the speed now resting slow as you tried to gather your breaths, eyes connecting as one as you recollected all the passion that infiltrated.

“my god…” you breathed, his fingers coating in your natural nectar and his cum, inhaling your womanly scent which sent waves of pleasure directly towards his cock that started to rise again. god… did he love the way your fucking pussy smelt. it didn’t compare to your handkerchief… your bed… even your used panties. his fingers slipping out as he placed them in his mouth, each finger being sucked clean. “you’re so fucking hot…”

the intensity that fueled you both was too much to comprehend. no words being able to be spoken— james blinded by the beauty and the smell of sex that fumed in the air. after all the days of him tugging his cock, the thoughts became real.

his face hovered yours, hands cupping your cheeks as he pressed gentle kisses across your lips, “can i...” he gasped in between each kiss, heavy air pushing through his nostrils as he tried desperately not to pass out from the adrenaline and the need to feel you, overwhelm you and just make you cum from his dick. “can i fuck you…? please… please… please please please please please…” his voice cracking in between.

the need that laced in your whine transmitted through the thick of his burning skin. it was hard to contain steady breathing. mine, he thought. you were all his for the night, and it signified that you were in this very moment.

lips feathering against your chin, each kiss longer than the last, with his nose nudging up into your cheek. just from the quiet sounds you let out, your consent, your ‘okay’ to put his dick inside of you made the way he felt more intense than it already had. his fingers wrapping around the start of his shaft as he started to pump himself.

“you can tell me if you want me to fuck you slow…” he continued, cupping his hand to his lips and spitting in it, making a small puddle to coat his dick. “or if you want me to fuck you fast… tell me… tell me to keep fucking you… tell me… just talk for me… please.”

his eyes jolted down as his cock angled itself right at your opening pushing himself inside. just half of what would be his tip, focused only on you. sucking in harshly at how big he was and how he wasn’t even all the way in. with his other hand cupping the side of your face and neck, his thumb rubbing gently.

“you okay baby…?” his attention still on you, analyzing each expression you gave to make sure that he wasn’t hurting you in any shape or form, pressing a long kiss at the side of your cheek beside your ear, “im going to keep going okay…? just breathe for me…”

they pushed more, his tip fully being in your cunt. his body shuttered… you were so warm, you were tight and held him so comfortably, if you wanted him to stop right there, it’d be enough for him to cum. anything for you was enough for him. bodies slowly enveloping on another as he tried to talk to your body in a way that gave you comfort and pleasure. “more?” he breathed, it hitching as he mindlessly held his breath, pushing more of himself into you— your hot walls holding around the start of his shaft, textured and wet, with a heartbeat that almost felt as if you were sucking him in without his go.

a pornographic moan being spewed from james’ lips. the way your cunt grasped onto him, it's textured walls massaging his cock into heaven. you felt full, his dick thick— leaning towards girth— your breathing picking up in pace. you molded his cock perfectly, his hips slowly pressing himself deeper until his hole cock was enveloped in you. "goo...good boy." you tried to praise, hiccuping as your hands fell onto his shoulders.

the thrust started off slow, hiccuping almost similar to his rut against your shoe. it took a few thrusts until he finally was able to find himself— barely. each inward thrust, the desk shook, your body sliding upwards against his paperwork that scattered and crumpled.

“is this… is this okay?” his voice broken, hearing the new diction in his tone.

“faster… don’t be shy…”

you didn’t have to tell him twice, his hips momentarily stopping as he planted his feet firmly on the ground— animalistic groans combating the way his hips started to snap. each thrust, your rear puckering hole was abused by james’ balls. again and again, the loud rhythmic sound of your skin slapping. "good boy, keep fucking me. make me cum."

the tip of his dick angling in a place you were unsure about. what was this? you thought. your body was excited and you didn't know why— you didn't know how to prepare yourself. your body unable to stay still or find a place where you felt the best in stabilization, screaming his name as he finally hit that spot, your good spot.

"don't stop! don't stop! don't stop! don't—" you chanted, him hitting your g spot over and over with your pussy sucking him in deeper and deeper at each outward thrust.

"i wish i fucked you sooner, why does this feel so good?!" already having the need to cum with no intention of holding it.

you as well. you needed to cum, but you felt something new as well. the similarly feeling of you needed to 'go'.

"waitwaitwaitwait!!!" you moaned out loud, his cock slipping out with an unexpected gift being brought to both of you. you squirted. it spilling from your cunt and drenching on the both of you— your face, his work clothes and your work clothes. you had no time to react, your legs violently shook, with james hurriedly slipping in again with the same need to release centering at the opening of your cunt.

"ineeedto... i... fuhhhcking" you slurred, eyes rolling each time james pulled out, your pussy let out small spurts of your squirting cum.

"that is so fucking hot... you're so hot." james cried, tears rimming in his eyes, feeling himself having the need to cum.

one leg wrapped his waist pushing him down, rolling your hips upward even though it was all too much, but your cunt wanted more, it felt like it could cum at least one more time. grabbing your face, your lips forming a squished 'o'.

"fuck...fucking good boy." your voice fucked out.

"it feels too good… i can’t take it." he continued to wail, tears started to stream down his face. "im gonna—" he announced with one finally thrust, james let his hot load rest deep inside you.

one could say his dream was now complete, but a new question shall be asked; how will this continue? from being ‘friends’, horny individuals to fuck at work. but for now, you both continued to calm down from your high, kissing each other sweetly.

“this won’t be the last time.” you smiled triumphantly, trying to catch your breath.

a/n: i never know how to end these… but maybe there will be another part…

I WAS JUST SAYING MARK WOULD TALK A MF THRU IT

Mark talking you through it

Pairing: Mark Grayson x Fem!reader

Summary: Mark takes your virginity and talks you through it

Warnings: Smut smutty smut, dirty talk, reader is afab, virginity loss, some profanity

A/N: i have so many ideas and things in the works but so little time 😭 also it’s exam season…but i have a duty to keep y’all fed so enjoy this crumb for now (sorry it’s short!)

You had never done anything like this before.

All the sensations and touches and feelings were new to you. A lot of it felt amazing.. his hands, big and calloused from fighting, were gentle on your bare skin. He was very attentive to how you reacted to everything.

It was after a homecoming game.

He’d forced the guardians to cover for him if anything came up and decided to spend the night with you. It was great especially given that you could finally spend time with him. You didn’t care what you two did. Sometimes you guys binged a show, other times it was a simple walk around campus or a park…

As long as you got to be with him.

However, this particular night after the game you two ended up making out and naked on his bed. It wasn’t big, just a twin xl like all the other dorms, but it was enough for you both. A bed’s a bed after all. He was experienced, at least from what you could tell. He didn’t seem too nervous or shy even.

He moved with confidence, but still asking for consent with everything before he actually did it. It was a bit cute but you truly admired that about him.

Everything was going great until you really looked at him…down there, and something in your head made you freak out.

He was actually kind of big, at least bigger than you expected, and that thick vein running up the side wasn’t helping calm your nerves either.

“Will that even fit?”, You whispered looking down. You looked into his eyes a bit worried. Your legs also close, but you did that unconsciously.

“I’ll go slow..” He kissed you gently, looking back into your eyes with a soft expression and a hand caressing your cheek. “And we can stop if it gets to be too much. Promise.”

You just nod and wrapped your arms around his neck as he positioned himself between your legs. You knew he was strong but sometimes you forgot exactly how strong. It wasn’t big something about the way he pushed your legs open and how a hand held your hip in place…

You quickly snapped out of thought as you felt his head push against your slick entrance while simultaneously brushing gently against your clit. He teased a bit so he could gather some of the wetness to coat himself for an easier slide inside. It already felt so good and he wasn’t even in you yet.

Then, he slowly pushed inside.

It was painful, and a stretch, too. Even going slow you had to stop him when he was halfway in to get used to him, a shaky hand pressing against his hardened abs. He peppered your face with kisses in the meantime until it started feeling okay. Then “okay” slowly became fucking amazing.

His size was still a bit much though, but god did he talk you through it.

It was getting overwhelming quick as he slowly thrusted and his strong arms caged you in. And, he just filled you up so good all you could do was whine and moan. It became so much that you started to cry a bit from the pleasure.

“I know baby, i know.” Mark whispered close to your ear. His voice was breathy and husky now. “I’m right here.. You feel so good. Fuck—, so fucking good baby..”

You couldn’t respond.

Not even if you wanted to.

As he bottomed you out and started picking up his pace all you could do was say his name over and over.

“You’re taking me so well. I knew you could do it, so proud of you…” He groaned while kissing your neck. He said you looked pretty under him too but you could barely hear that part as you were so focused on how good it felt.

The bed stared squeaking louder as he was getting close with you not far behind but you knew he wouldn’t finish before you. The second he started huskily telling you to let go and “finish all over him” it was over.

“That’s my pretty girl. So good for me.” He cooed. He held you by your sides as you came even gently still thrusting to add to it.

And even after he pulled out and finished on your stomach and thighs he was still saying filthy things.

“Look at you, so pretty even all messed up like this..”

That sock never came off that door that night.

While I'm doing that Salesman request, how about some Submissive James Sunderland headcanons to hold you over? (I desperately wanna finish this game but I have no time and am too much of a pussy)

Sub!James Sunderland Headcanons:

Minors, do not interact...18+

Never bratty, like at all. He might say something that is unintentionally bratty. But correct him, and he'll be a lot more mindful of what he says to you.

Loves serving you in any way possible. Cooking, cleaning, laundry, massaging you, pleasuring you, any way and every way.

Still, don't yell at him or degrade him. He's pretty sensitive, especially after Mary's verbal abuse. That, and he's also lowkey insecure himself. He hasn't had sex in a long time, and when he did, it was very vanilla. He knows he isn't exactly young, and he's even more insecure about taking supplements to get it up.

He likes being spanked, but only with soft impact, and don't ever slap him, choke him, or spit on him.

Lives for your praise. He has a very big praise kink and will do anything to hear you say those two special words. His dick gets hard just from hearing you call him a good boy. He'll put away grocceries and do the dishes, only to glance at you from the side. Breath clutched before releasing a euphoric huff when you praised him.

I've mentioned this before (and that post inspired this one) but he's got a mommy/daddy kink.

It's not to the extent of ageplay, but it's to the extent where he loves calling you mommy or daddy (depending on you) and relying on your judgement to make some (trivial) choices for him. For example, he might ask you to pick out his clothes for the day or ask you what he should eat.

"Mommy, what should I wear to go to work," "Daddy, what should I eat for lunch? Do you want some?" Things like that. (I'm researching gender neutral terminology for this right now, so please bear with me)

He has a thing for being quiet, but full-on gagging makes him panic, so he opts for sucking on your fingers, breasts, or whatever you have to offer him, depending on your body.

Extremely needy as a sub. He wants to be near you at all times, he wants your attention, he craves your praise, and sometimes your voice alone gets him off. Premature ejaculation is a curse (or a blessing in disguise...?) For him. Sometimes when you praise him, he loses all sense of control and cums on himself involuntarily without a single touch from you.

But you've trained him a little with some edging and orgasm denial, and now it's almost impossible for him to cum unless you give him explicit permission to. If you get a call from him late at night, just know he's whimpering and pathetically begging you to let him cum. And yes, he always thanks you profusely after cumming.

He doesn't verbally whine or complain if you deny him, but he whimpers. A lot. He whimpers like a puppy that had his paw stepped on. He'll cry a little, too. He's a soft masochist; he only wants soft punishments and soft belittlements. Instead of degrading, he wants to be talked to like a pet, sweet and a little condescending at times with a stroke of his hair. Instead of spitting and slapping, he wants kisses and excruciatingly pleasureful denial.

With that said, he's a dacryphilliac to a degree. He doesn't want to sob, but he doesn't mind shedding a tear or two; especially if you express satisfaction for it.

He's interested in light pet play. Padded collars and leashes, and could either bark for you or meow, depending on what you want. He's fine with either or some other pet except pony or pig.

He's shy about it, but he's very curious about prostate play. The first time he tried a prostate massager, you were watching him as he twitched, whimpered, moaned, and grinded against the soft mattress, hoping to angle the toy deeper all while he looked at you with a pout of embarassment and arousal. You could see his gaze, craving your approval and praise, as always. He fantasizes about you buying a remote-controlled one for him.

He started dipping his toe in the sissification pool. James doesn't like the extreme end of the spectrum. He's still new to this, and he isn't too fond of the idea of crossdressing to his knowledge as of right now. But if you put girly clips in his hair or a feminine ribbon around his wrists, he'll like it.

IB level psychoanalysis essay on this right now.

An amorous moose asked:

I demand Prawn!Joel to make sex on Prawn!reader.

pairing - shrimp!joel x shrimp!f!reader summary - shrimp!joel makes sex on you. warnings - shrimp sex. breeding kink.

You are a shrimp, and you are in love. In love with your shrimp husband, Joel. There's love in the salty water tonight. The colorful aquarium rocks vibrating with something energetic, something passionate. Or maybe it’s the filter making noise.

Shrimp Joel gives you a look that has your shrimp pussy clenching. You shed your exoskeleton because shrimp sex only happens when you are soft and vulnerable. Shrimp Joel knows this. It is why he made you a romantic shrimp dinner and gave you a relaxing shrimp massage. For to shrimp sex.

You release pheromones into the water, and Shrimp Joel has an impressive shrimp boner. You face abdomen to abdomen, as shrimps in love are prone to do. To an outsider, it may not look like much. In fact, it may even look like you are fighting. You are not fighting. This is just what shrimp sex kind of looks like. Shrimp Joel uses his gonopods to transfer spermatophore into your thelycum. Neither of you moan, because you are shrimps and do not speak. No prolonged intimacy - you do not need that because you are shrimp. One quick pump is enough to satiate both of your shrimp libidos.

Your husband, Shrimp Joel, does his shrimp stuff on the other side of the tank. You, however, are not ready to use his shrimp sperm. This is normal for shrimp such as yourself. Only when you are ready to lay your eggs do you release them, allowing them to be fertilized by the stored shrimp sperm as they pass out of your shrimp body.

WHY IS BRO POUTING?????

I NEED TO SQUEEZE HIS LITTLE CHEEKS

SEE, YOU GET IT, OMG, WE NEED TO BE FRIENDS CUZ THIS MAN LIKE THIS MAN I JUST SHSNSN

Rescue Bots Graham Burns

Propaganda below the cut

Need him.

By The Ring

Rex Sloan x G/N Reader

18+ Minors begone! I have been rotting away for far too long and need to come back. So have my first angsty smut ever.

Summary: Rex always thought you and him were together, but to you, you guys were just a couple. Despite how awful of a partner you were, Rex always has the doubt in his mind that you do care, and you are his.

Warnings/Tags: Cheating from Rex's end, penetration but reader's genitals are kept vague. The reader is genuinely a p.o.s. reader is using Rex for sex, actively objectifies him, and doesn't care about anything else, and this isn't meant to romanticize objectification at all. I'm just practicing a new way of writing. Sex is dry af, dead bedroom, lots of angst, plastic love, literary devices cuz I'm a nerd💀, shattered relationship, hurt but no comfort yall, I'm sorry, it's 12:20 AM and I had a thought😭

You laid there bare while he slipped his way in. Your body is as hot as his charged molecules, but your moans are as loud as a dying kindle. His rough palm clutching your jaw to pepper kisses while you half-heartedly whimper. Moaning was a courtesy, not a requirement. Neither was cumming.

Moaning, begging, sucking, cumming.... it was never a requirement or a need... just formalities.

You knew from the start what kind of person Rex Sloan....or Splode.... was. A firecracker made in an assembly line designed to fizzle, flicker, explode, wow, and then tarnish to leave behind its tattered pieces. Its smell embedded into the ground and your clothes that stank of gunpowder. If there was one thing you loved about Rex.... it was his big personality. He was an ass, but he was always entertaining even in the more distasteful circumstances. He was the definition of fun and adventure.

Sometimes all you ever want is a little fun.

But too much of one's sweet indulgences will always leave a bitter taste in their mouths. Rex was a firework you loved to watch explode, fizzle, and flash vibrantly with all of his true colors. But what happens when the fireworks are too loud? What happens when the fireworks are too bold? What happens when the fireworks burst too close to your home? What happens when the fireworks are simply.... too much?

You dispose of them. Tuck them away into a closet until you get board and long to see their violent bursts again.

Rex was a skeleton in your closet. You didn't bring him up to family or friends--not because you were ashamed, moreso you didn't find it necessary. He was just a firework to watch until he fizzled away from your mind. His ambers always remained in your gyri for his body, for his face, and occassionally his personality.

But sometimes, you really wished he'd just stay in his place.

He thrusts faster into you, pounding, needy, desperate and depraved. What once felt so thrilling, so desirable, so irresistible, has become so.... so.... monotonous. It wasn't the sex that ruined things, it was him.

Assembly lines have changed the world forever. People gained jobs, capitalistic societies thrived, and consumers ate up every new appliance and car and cosmetic that released. But assembly lines were exploitative, coldly formatted to prioritize profit over people, and greedy.

Rex gained respect, Rex thrived in action-packed environments, Rex ate up every ounce of attention, and Rex.... was just a faulty firecracker designed to maximize your gratification until you decide to recall because he oversupplied, and you wanted more of him in ways that did not correspond to his ideas. Rex changed your world forever.

You couldn't care less about his job, his life, or his friends, not when he was inside of you. But now, that wasn't even enough because of course it wasn't. Rex could work in his place in line, tending to your conveyor belt for hours upon hours in a day, and you'll only ever pay him with half-hearted honeyed affirmations and the occassional peck on the cheek. Yet you'll still command more from him. You were as affectionate as Tyson Foods, or Apple, or Google, or Amazon, or whatever big wig corporation had a CEO with a warm smile and a cold way of life.

There was better than Rex. There always was and always will be.

If you desired, you could get a replacement by next evening.

Rex massaged your spot, whimpering and muttering: "Why.... why are you so quiet, baby? Is it not good enough?"

He sounded.... different from his usual cocky demeanor... scared. It was as though the entirety of his worth as a person, as a man, as Rex Splode, as Rex Sloan... rested between his thighs.

....

The fear that filled his body fueled his fiery passion further as he hoisted you up and pounded. This time, you moaned. An authentic, genuine moan that filled the room and gave Rex the validation he needed to gain that sense of machismo. The kind of masculinity that was as secure as the neglected mechanical cogs on a calculated conveyor belt. Rex was monotonous and loud, but by god did he have a use.

He slides out before slapping himself back in with a clap of flesh while he whispered....

"My baby.... my baby..." He huffs between steamy kisses and loud claps. His words synchronized with the sounds of his thrusts as he continued.... "You're my baby, say it to me...."

You bite your lip, not from pleasure--no, no, no, that candle put itself out long ago--but rather resistance, rebellion, apathy, reluctance, everything that Rex would define as "shitty." But you humored him, striking the match to light his fuse as you pant out, "I'm your baby, Rex. I'm your baby."

Rex was a firecracker you always set off when you wanted a show and you always made sure to set him off into a lake when he was too much. To bet on losing dogs is the very definition of insanity. But Rex places his stamp down and pays the price every time. He knows. He knows that what he's doing is wrong, seeing Kate behind your back, talking to Eve, touching other people, only to bury himself deep into you. He didn't deserve you. He knew that. But he loved you so, so much. You were perfect, affectionate enough to keep him coming, but distant enough that he could never worry about genuinely losing a bet. That was until he heard you laugh with him, not at him, or when you were so forgiving, and loving.... where did you go? You don't even look him in the eyes during sex.

But that night.... you did.

And it gave Rex the foreign feeling of butterfly houses populating with heat insulated.... he couldn't help but hiss at you through clenched teeth, "I wanna feel it.... you looking in my eyes when I come..."

To bet on losing dogs is the very definition of insanity. Deep beneath the depths of his hearth through the cracked stonework and sooted walls of his personhood, lied the burned letter he always sought to ignore.

You don't love him. He can tell by the way you always gaze at his body and dismiss his words, how you craved him for his looks and not his jokes, and how even after you drained him, you still commanded more. You never asked how he was doing, you just always focused on "making him feel better." Except he never did. But he loves you so.... for whatever reason, he does.

He loves you so much that he'll cry to himself over his infidelity even though you couldn't care less if he left you today. He hates himself for it but christ, he needs someone that's you but.... isn't like you. He stopped going after Rae, Kate, and Eve. He started seeking people who looked as close to you as possible. Some nights, he'd even pay a prostitute extra to let him call them by your name, or to dye their hair like yours, and so on. Or when he watches porn.... he always tries to find one where the bodies, the actors, and the sounds were as close to you as possible because he knows it will never truly happen. For once, sex was something that made Rex miserable.... how can he possibly enjoy you when he has to sleep knowing that if it weren't for his anatomy, you would leave?

If he can't make you stay with his jokes, or his meals, or his fireworks from charged coins, he only had one last thing.... his body.

He loves you so much that he actively bets on his losing dog. He sees you and he knows that you are bound to fail him everytime without trying because that's exactly your problem. You don't try.

You don't even care.

He could sit there in his car and scream how he loves you, but whether he screamed in the car alone, or screamed right there in your home you still left him alone. As long as he came back to bed bare, only then would you truly acknowledge him and hold him.

Finally, Rex reached his peak and lets go, only to make sure you reached yours, too. As you cum, it wasn't a powerful crash of waves, it was a poltergeist of pleasure that throbbed throughout your body. But Rex knew this was all he could do. He knows you're bored of him now.

........

In the middle of cuddling you, Rex finally snaps bitterly:

"Why don't you ever say my name when we fuck? You don't even look at me!"

But when he said that, he looked to see you scrolling away on your phone. Inattentive, careless, and inconsiderate as always. He bets on losing dogs.

Then he decided to tell you the truth....

"I've been seeing other people. Kate, Rae, Eve, and others." He confessed whilst firmly looking at you with those green eyes lit with determination; a faulty firework ready to blow up into the lake once more.

He sat there in silence, expecting you to get angry, cry, scream, or do something indicating that you do care about him.

When he is met with silence, he instigated further.

"You tasted her. Every time you went down on me, you tasted them, 'cause I ain't washing my sins, baby!" He exclaimed with bravado, he knew everything. He knew you were just putting on a front.... you do love him, you care for him, that you were worth losing every bet, that you were worth placing every bet down like a deranged gambler, that you weren't his losing dog, that you were his, that he'll break your heart, that he'll make you cry, and then it'll all be okay. He knew---no, he knows, everything. Even if you are dry and you can't keep up, he knows it'll hurt.

But it didn't hurt like he thought it would.

After he confessed his infidelty and clutched his plastic pride, all you did was roll over and tiredly mutter to him,

"Make sure you get tested tomorrow. I don't wanna have to take antibiotics 'cause of you."

And just like that.... you set him off and briefly witnessed his burst into the lake. He gets up, agitated and shouting at you, but you have long fell asleep. Realizing he was losing on your side, he went to the bathroom and wrapped his lips around the faucet before turning it on to the highest setting.

Through gargles, choked sobs, fizzled sorrows, and longing ambers being flooded by metallic water, he coughs up remains before pulling out the diamond ring in his pocket. It wasn't flashy, it was cheap, but it was a promise. The promise to be better, the promise to stay by your side, the promise.... to bet on another losing dog.

With a somber gaze that pawned off his emerald eyes, Rex places the ring onto the sink; ready to place down yet another stamp that's long dried after so many bets. The diamond was starting to yellow. He didn't hurt like he thought it would.... he told you the truth with the hopes of having your love at last, and all you did was reduce him to a urine sample. All Rex is left with a quiet place to scream how he loves you. He knows that the promise to stay by your side is a guarantee lose, but he's become nothing but a poor gambler.

So he fizzles into the bowl of the sink, and bursts into the lake... ready to work another shift in the assembly line that was your manufactured love. He'd bet on losing dogs anyday. He wouldn't have it any other way.

Because to bet on losing dogs, to fail by your side, to be stuck in your assembly line, was to know everything.