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A pretty, six-foot-one boy with a solid six-pack who loves wearing lace for his boyfriend
I love big bottoms so much
I want to be the one whose pleasure is the focus, not the other way around. Why can’t I just lay there and take it? I am not at all a giving person. Give it to me, dammit. Give me all of the things. That’s what I want.
His tatted hands––black and grey roses on each one, with a bunch of smaller random tattoos on each finger––would look so good on me. Anywhere. My neck. My arms or legs. My dick. Ugh. They’d look so fucking good on my dick. I just know it.
I’m a one-and-done kind of guy, and Liam here screams clingy. Fucking screams it.
I love clingy
He whimpers. This six-foot-something boy with a solid six-pack actually whimpers against my mouth, and the sound goes straight to my dick.
Yes
Such a pretty little thing, I think, my lips pressed against his throat. “So soft and sweet,”
Not as big as me, a few inches shorter and leaner, but he’s solid muscle. And, yet, the words aren’t untrue. He is soft and sweet. Almost delicate and so fucking pretty.
Yes
“Shh,” I soothe, rubbing my hand in a circular motion on his lower back. “You said easy, Liam. I’m going to take care of this little hole, I promise, but I’m doing this how you need it. So gentle, isn’t that right, beautiful?”
“Liam, you wanting me does not mean that I want you.” “Oh.” My shoulders slump, and I have to look down so that he can’t see it when my face reflects how much that fucking hurt me. I’m not even surprised. I mean, I didn’t see it coming, but yeah. Makes sense that he doesn’t want me. Nobody really does and that’s something I’m aware of, so why does this bother me? There are so many reasons for him to not want me.
…
“You forgot what? How open and wet you left your hole for me? Just like a good little cunt should be, huh?”
“Playing with yourself?” He’s teasing me, soothing the burn of shame a bit because I can tell that he likes it. “Isn’t that right? Getting this pretty pussy ready for me.”
“Shh, it’s okay. I fucking love that. Were you thinking of me, princess?”
he leans back in so quickly before standing up that I can’t be sure, but I think… “Did you just kiss my dick?”
“Oh, fuck.” I have to stop, press my forehead against his thigh, and take a breath. I don’t know what I expected to see, but a little light pink heart-shaped jewel definitely wasn’t it.
“Y’know,” I say after a bit, wanting to change the subject I think. “My ex-girlfriend’s name was Anna.” “The cheater?” “Yeah,” I yawn. But she’s not a Crawford.
“You guys are turning me on. Get a room!”
Same
“I––it doesn’t feel right.” He climbs off of me, and I fucking stroke. I have to, can’t help but let out a litany of moans as my fist slides over my cock.
Hmmmm
“Jesus,” I mutter quietly. “You’re fucking filthy.” “I’m what you made me,” he accuses, still breathing heavily, broad chest moving as his body starts to sink into the couch. Mine, my entire body sings. I’ve made him mine.
“Ooh, like on a date? How cute.” Dude smells like weed, and his eyes are definitely red. “I wish I had Italian,” he sighs.
“You want to have my babies, princess?” He leans in, teeth grazing my collarbone until I whimper. My hips roll, dragging a quiet groan out of his sinful lips. “You gonna ride me, sweetheart? Let me breed this little pussy until it’s dripping?”
“Oh, fuck yeah,” I nod my head as much as I can before I’m groaning. “Just knock me up, daddy.” I’m only kind of joking. I know he can’t, but fuck, is it fun to try, especially knowing he’ll have to go back to wearing condoms soon. And kids, little blue eyed grumps running around? Sign me up.
“Yeah, well, if you don’t stop subconsciously pissing on his leg, I’m gonna start real-time hopping on his dick.”
