a-rchhive

[a-rchhive]

“no.. too much” you cry burying your face in the pillow. the fabric is wet soaked with tears running down your cheeks from the strong stimulation

it started not so long ago when you bought a car too good for a price tag too small. one reason - suicide in it, so you were told, under too strange circumstances when the police did not deal with this case, as if someone wanted this case to be forgotten without any investigation

then the strangeness began. the radio in the car was jamming and no matter how many times you went to the dealership, they couldn't fix it. if you accidentally left your bag inside the car, all the items would be scattered on the leather seats.

and then in your apartment. things were out of place, there were occasional fingerprints on the mirror that were still foggy from taking a hot shower, and there was always a squeak of something happening to your headphones when you were listening to music, especially at night.

and then you felt it. the touch. on your skin. you put it down to exhaustion, from tossing and turning too much in your sleep, and your t-shirt was up, and it was cold at night.

until one night you felt like someone was breathing right in your ear. the cold air was too much on your skin. and the touch on your body became more distinct. you felt like invisible hands were sliding over your body, but no matter how much you looked behind you, it was empty. always

and one day it went too far. you couldn't ignore your own fear and the tension of being uncomfortable inside your own apartment. but the arousal haunted you for much longer

and only one evening when you decided to satisfy yourself everything went smoothly and forever was calm. your hand was under the fabric of your underwear, your body was spread out on the pillows and the sheets were crumpled. you almost came

suddenly this push on your shoulder, as if something unknown, invisible, turned you on your stomach. fear enveloped your body. you felt pressure on the top of your head, as if someone's hand was pushing you into your own pillow, and as if someone was lifting your hips

you swear your hands were near your head when you tried to get up, but you felt the fabric of your underwear sliding down your thighs, with a touch too cold on your skin

you were going to scream, call for help, when you felt the penetration of the vault of the pussy, how someone's cock stretched you. abruptly, without any preparation, too quickly, starting to push immediately into you. the body, almost experiencing the first orgasm, shook, legs spread apart

«fuck! what the fuck—" you were horrified when your voice was muffled by the soft down of the pillow, and your hips jerked as if someone's fingers were touching your clit, rubbing against it as something you couldn't see continued to thrust into you, finally finding a rhythm.

you gave up too quickly. if it was a ghost or a poltergeist, you let it use your body and achieve the long-awaited release. but it didn't end after the first orgasm.

you felt cold touches on your neck, like kisses lingering on your skin, and your tits were squeezed by invisible hands.

the second time, you came too quickly, dripping onto the bed before the pressure and support disappeared, causing your body to collapse on the bed, gasping for air.

after that, everything became too quiet. you spent two whole weeks without any otherworldly presence, thinking that it was finally over.

and then it happened again.

and it became frequent.

and tonight was no exception. you remember listening to music in your headphones, getting ready for bed, when you heard that same squeak you had heard before. the music faded away, and you heard a man's voice, "did you buy new lace underwear? It looks good."

a foreign voice made you sit down too quickly, and then there was pressure on your mouth that you couldn't even scream. you felt trapped in someone else's presence, "shh, be more obedient today, and I'll give you more."

the voice coming through your headphones played like a record in your head. you tried to breathe through your nose, watching your shorts slide down, your underwear tightening, and something you couldn't see sliding through your folds, playing with your clit.

your hands were trying to grab onto something, until you found a blanket on the bed. too vulgar. without any shame. your back arched, your hips twitched to get more touch and friction.

if it were a ghost, you could say that it was playing with your pussy with its fingers, finding your hole to insert two fingers at once, "you take me so well, even though I don't have any matter," and a deep laugh in your ears

you feel the pressure on your lips disappear, and he slides under your t-shirt, rolling your nipples. he pushes his fingers into your pussy, stretching you, sliding in, and making a slurping sound every time he enters you.

"More, —please" you say, throwing your head back and feeling the support behind you. He kisses your temple, and his movements become faster as he brings you to orgasm.

but without any break, you're turned over on your stomach, and he's getting into position from behind, entering your trembling pussy slowly, stretching you out, "you're so tight every time...—fuck, you're too tight," and you could swear you heard a heavy sigh coming through your headphones.

The thrusts are shallow and slow, and before he picks up the pace, you're hugging the pillow and propping yourself up on your elbows, looking back to make sure no one is behind you, "fuck, what are you—ah!"

a slap on the ass, you feel it all too clearly, but there's no sound, just his voice, "at least tonight, don't ask questions and just moan like you usually do when I'm fucking you—"

you mumble, burying your face in the soft fuzz, but you don't protest. you moan like a fucking whore every time he thrusts into you.

too stimulated, with no hint of rest, you feel pain in your clit when you come. for how many times? third or fifth? you lost track at the moment when his hands were twisting your nipples under your shirt

"fuck, I can't take it anymore—god please" you could hear his laughter echoing in your ears, the tempo picking up, the pain coursing through your body, your eyes already wet with tears of overstimulation, and the sheets completely soaked beneath your dripping cunt.

you can't take it anymore, feeling yourself squirting, spurting into the void, and his tempo finally becoming unsteady, incoherent words in your headphones before it all calms down

you breathe deeply, trying to raise your eyes, clinging to the large mirror in the room. and clearly see a man's figure. his thighs flush with your ass, the body leaning over you, eyes looking at your common reflection, his fingers slide on your waist, lazily, carelessly stroking

"if you need me again, just call me. I'm Michele"

and again, that feeling of being lost, when you fall onto your bed completely exhausted, shaking, and completely alone

and then again this silence that lasted so long. two weeks without his presence. you hesitated. for a long time and did not dare to say his name out loud. before sitting in front of the mirror with only a t-shirt, putting on headphones and looking at yourself in the mirror, "Michele?"

you see his figure in the reflection, vaguely and blurry before the lines become clear, "yes, darling?" now you saw his hands sliding down your neck, his chest pressing against your back, and his lips sliding along the curve of your neck, his eyes fixed on your face from behind his glasses.

you reach your hand towards his head, feeling the cool air under your fingertips, and it's like you're pressing on the flow of air, and in the reflection, you touch his hair as he rubs his head against your palm, grabbing your hand with his own, leaving a kiss on your knuckles, and never breaking eye contact.

"Fuck me. Again"

His lips stretch into a smile, his eyes close, and the voice in your headphones seems to sound like a thought in your own head.

"If my sweetheart wants it, I'm ready to fulfill it. Again"

[a-rchhive]

it wasn't the best week, and today was the worst day

you were putting your face together, after a long day of being busy with your studies, dealing with your work schedule and also meeting your friends after a few weeks

but that didn't mean that you were fine. it felt like your studies were slowly crushing your head, and your work shifts were not fine. but the final thing was that you had a fight with your friends over some nonsense that you couldn't even remember now

so you thought that staying at home by yourself, while Oliver is busy with his work, the delivery, would be a comfort for you. you turned on the music, rubbed your face with cream and prepared yourself a bath to rest

only it didn't get better

you sigh briefly to tilt your head and wash the foam with water, as warm hands settle behind you and find their place on your waist, taking you in a ring

you flinch for a moment to give yourself a second to turn your head back, straighten up, and see Oliver, "Oli? Why are you here? Aren't you at work?"

he shakes his head a little to reach out to you and smear the cream on your cheek, "didn't you feel depressed? I decided to take some time off to spend the evening with you"

he shrugs, resting his head on your shoulder, rubbing his cheek against your skin, and doesn't seem to care that he's also getting cream on himself. your phone is playing music in the background, soft and pleasant until the melody changes

you turn around in his arms, look at his face, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, "you seem too excited" your wet hand reaches out to brush his bangs as his eyes close and he lets out a breath

"I decided to stop by your favorite restaurant for food and takeout, I just made it before they closed" Oliver murmurs softly to you, rubbing his thumbs over your t-shirt at your waist in a soothing motion, "and today I'm here to be your book of complaints"

you feel a small lump in your throat, and your eyes start to get wet

you didn't ask him to, and you definitely didn't tell him how you were feeling today, "how did you know?"

Oliver opens his eyes to touch your nose with his, rubbing gently and murmuring softly, "you wrote a message like that, and I could tell from your tone that you weren't okay"

Oliver's hands slide under your thighs to grab you and sit you down near the sink. He reaches for your phone to change the song, chuckling briefly

Lil peep — right here

you can hear him humming a tune, without words, humming a little to wet a towel and wipe your skin, wiping gently, trying not to push too hard

«Baby, how you doing? I know you not doing the best but I'm here, I'll always be here»

Oliver's lips barely open as he hums the lines for you, leans closer, leaving a scattering of kisses on your face, "what's next? facial serum?"

You nod briefly as he opens a small jar and drips the product onto your skin, causing you to squint and smile softly at him

«I don't give a fuck, I love who I love and girl you're that one so I'll wait right here»

his fingers gently rub the product on the skin, his face close, his lips against yours as you reach just a little to leave a short kiss, "if you were in trouble, you could have asked me to come"

Oliver leaves only to check the temperature of the water in the bath, and throw a few balls in it, making it gurgle and dissolve, take on a blue color. he takes off his sweater, dropping it on the floor as you watch, "I didn't want to distract you—"

"but you have to" he returns to his place to lift your arms up and pull your t-shirt over your head. His face falls into the curve of your neck, and his fingers twist your skin on your thighs, pulling your shorts down

«Baby, how are you doing? I know you're not doing the best but I'm here, I'll always be here»

he throws them aside, to his clothes, so you can grab his neck as he picks you up and puts you in the hot water, "because taking care of you is my job as your boyfriend"

«I'll be right here, just tell me if you need me»

he undresses completely, making you look away, feeling the heat on your cheeks. You don't know if you're embarrassed by his appearance or his words, but you immediately lean against his chest as he settles behind you

«I don't give a fuck, I love who I love and girl you're that one so I'll wait right here»

[a-rchhive]

yes, only crying, moaning and completely destroyed under you

just imagine the idea of Vinny, the guy who runs the whole school, all the guys there are literally at his beck and call, his nickname is mad dog and he also has good grades, sitting behind you, you're between his legs, his soft voice whispering all these math formulas in your ear

"no, here you have to use the formula from the table to deal with the logarithm.. are you listening to me, right?"

he's right behind you, every time he speaks, his breath hits your skin, and his hands are always close to yours. when he accidentally moves his legs, he squeezes you a little with his hips

it's enough to make you feel cute and aroused

until you turn the tables and press his body against the table, forcing him to rest his bent elbows on the surface, throw his head back, and mumble your name incoherently every time you ride his hips

you lean your hands on his shoulders, push on his dick to sit down with a wet splash, bend your head to his ear "yes, I'm listening, so what did you stop at, Vinny, which formula should I use?"

and his eyes roll for the umpteenth time when you moan right in his ear, jumping right on him and squeezing his dick

[a-rchhive]

just imagine the idea of Vinny, the guy who runs the whole school, all the guys there are literally at his beck and call, his nickname is mad dog and he also has good grades, sitting behind you, you're between his legs, his soft voice whispering all these math formulas in your ear

"no, here you have to use the formula from the table to deal with the logarithm.. are you listening to me, right?"

he's right behind you, every time he speaks, his breath hits your skin, and his hands are always close to yours. when he accidentally moves his legs, he squeezes you a little with his hips

it's enough to make you feel cute and aroused

until you turn the tables and press his body against the table, forcing him to rest his bent elbows on the surface, throw his head back, and mumble your name incoherently every time you ride his hips

you lean your hands on his shoulders, push on his dick to sit down with a wet splash, bend your head to his ear "yes, I'm listening, so what did you stop at, Vinny, which formula should I use?"

and his eyes roll for the umpteenth time when you moan right in his ear, jumping right on him and squeezing his dick

[a-rchhive]

you looked only at his back. new symbols on his jacket. shabbat. you are sure that he felt your presence with all his being when you stayed behind him. people passed by you, flashing, but he never turned around.

you just tried to breathe through your nose before gathering your strength to finally turn away and go back into the crowd.

logo on your jacket, so old and familiar to both of you once. a completely different team. it wasn't even yours, you took it from him once to support his presence at the races. but now it didn't make sense.

you unbutton the lock on the jacket to take it off and put it somewhere near the benches, leave it on the handrails. feeling how the cold wind touches your skin, pierces your bones and slides under your T-shirt, which definitely does not warm you in this weather.

you're heading for the exit, leaving behind the roaring crowd waiting for the races, old friends and him.

him with whom you shared quiet evenings at his house. him who taught you to ride a bike. and his who filled your heart so much that he was sure that he took your heart with him when he left.

Vinny’s fingers slide over the fabric, carefully taking the sleeve of the jacket you left behind, which you left. he watches your body tremble in this not warm weather.

and he could take just a few quick steps towards you to catch up and throw at least this so that you are warm.

but he doesn't do it.

[a-rchhive]

i did it to rewrite several works and leave notes here for convenience