pooksamiras

[pooksamiras]

-amira. 07/17 3:39. 🥀.

a man starving, ravenous for your sweet cunt. a treat in its own. always desperate for any little taste he could get.

spending hours between your plush thighs, lazily mouthing at your cunt. feasting. licking and sucking and biting at your pert clit—delirious from the sweet juice seeping from your wet, soppy hole. squelching with every languid thrust of his tongue.

rutting against the bed, hips jerking into the mattress—getting off from the taste. every grind of your hips, squeeze of your thighs, pull of his hair, every soft sound from your pretty lips has him reeling.

he’d die a happy man. not on a mission in the field, in a war of bullets & smoke. but here, suffocating between your thighs—lapping at your cunt like a depraved man, for every drop of slick that spills from your hole, & onto the dip of his tongue.

- simon ‘ghost’ riley. (aka, my man).

[pooksamiras]

- amira. 5/29/25. 1:23 PM. 🫥.

Simon pressed back against the cool plaster wall outside the closed door, heart pounding like artillery fire. inside, his wife’s soft moans drift through the thin wood, each one a spark of need that made him clench his fists at his sides. in the next room, his mates are laughing over last night’s mission debrief—completely unaware that Simon’s locked in a battle of self-control on the other side of the door.

he shook his head, trying to clear the haze of arousal. he needs a moment alone with her. a moment to taste the warmth he’s been craving all day. but every creak of the floorboards, every distant shout, reminds him how loud she can be when she hits that perfect spot—how much he needs to keep it down.

inside, he heard her shift on the bed, the rustle of sheets. his cock throbs against his jeans. Simon slid his hand under his shirt, pressing his palm against his chest to steady his breathing. he can almost feel the slick heat of her against his fingers, the way her hips arch when he first sank inside her. he closed his eyes, picturing her silky skin, the curve of her waist, the way her back curved when she pressed into him.

his jaw clenched when she let out a soft gasp—a sound so fragile and delicious. Simon’s fingers itch to be there, brushing the spot that made her cry out, but he dared not move. he traced the seam of the door with the pad of his thumb, counting the seconds until he could slip inside. if he wasn’t quick, his mates would stumble in any moment.

he pressed his ear to the door, listening to her breath catch, the subtle slap of skin on skin. he remembers she told him once that hearing her name on his lips was the surest way to send her over the edge. he swallows the groan building in his throat, biting his lip until he taste blood.

finally, a lull in the laughter next door. Simon slips the deadbolt, turned the handle, and eased the door open. the sight of her sprawled on the mattress, inviting him in. she lifts her head, eyes bright with need and mischief.

he hovers in the doorway for a heartbeat—watching the way the lamp light danced over her curves, the sheen of sweat on her collarbones. then he steps in, closing the door silently behind him and leaning in to capture her lips in a feather-light kiss that turned hungry in the span of a breath.

she moans—quiet, urgent—melting against him. Simon’s hands came up to cradle her face, thumbs brushing over her damp cheeks. he slid one hand down her side, pressing through the thin fabric to find her breast, thumb rolling over the hardened nipple. she shivers, pressing back into him, hips lifting just enough for friction.

he broke the kiss, stepping closer, pressing his body against hers. his cock, desperate and straining, found her slick warmth immediately through the thin barrier of her panties. Simon groans low in his throat, one hand sliding to the waistband to tug them down in a single, deft motion. she raised her hips to help, legs parting, as he sank in—slow, potent—a delicious stretch that stole his breath.

her arms wound around his neck as he settles fully inside her, chest to chest, both gasping softly. Simon froze for a moment, forehead pressed to hers, listening for any sign that his mates noticed—anything to remind him to keep his control. but all he heard is the rapid thrum of her heart beneath his palm.

he began to move, slow at first, savoring every inch: the way her walls clench around him, the soft sighs she tucked into his shirt, the gentle slick slide of her against him. her fingers tangle in his hair, nails grazing his scalp as she urged him on. he lowers his voice, brushing his lips along her jaw. “so fucking good,” he murmurs, voice gravelly. “stay quiet for me.”

she nods, mouth open in a silent moan, Simon pressed a finger to her lips—feather-light, a promise. he set a steady rhythm, hips rolling forward and back, deeper each time. the thin quilted mattress creaked under them, but both stifle heavier sounds with whispered shushes and small bites to bare skin.

as he picks up the pace, the heavenly friction drove both closer to the edge. Simon’s breath caught when her walls fluttered around him, when her back arched as she bit her lip to hold back the cry rising in her throat. he buries his face in her neck, pressing kisses wherever he could reach, each one a claim, a reminder of how much he needed her.

her legs wrap tighter around his hips, pressing him deeper, and Simon knew they had only seconds. he thrust hard, hand sliding to her clit to circle and rub in time with his hips. she gasps sharply, body trembling, and his control snaps. the wave crashing through him—long, hot spurts pulsing inside her as he moans her name into the hush of the room.

[pooksamiras]

- amira. 5/27/25. 10:33 AM.

Simon’s pulse thunders in his ears as he pressed himself into her, hips grinding relentlessly against the soft curve of her leg. they’d been separated for days by his latest mission, and now, as soon as the door clicked shut behind him, he dropped his kit and practically tore off her clothes. but she’s been exhausted from travel to fully oblige him—so he settles for what he can get.

he knelt between her thighs on the edge of their bed, jeans riding low on his hips, pressing his rigid cock through the denim into the tender, heated flesh of her inner thigh. the friction scorching—every desperate thrust sending electric jolts up his spine. his hands grip her hips, clutching the smooth curve of her ass as if he might slip away otherwise.

“please,” he murmurs against her skin, voice thick with need. he rocks forward in short, frantic thrusts, each one a silent plea. “more… I need more.”

she lies back, breathless, one hand fisting the sheets above her head, the other braced on his shoulder. her eyes shone with a lazy amusement as she watched him lose control, hips pistoning in a frantic rhythm. every time she thought he might catch his breath, Simon ground himself harder, urgent, wanting to feel her warmth, her slickness, her body fully wrapped around him.

“Simon,” she whispers, voice soft but teasing. “you’re going to ruin your jeans.”

he groans, head falling back, every muscle trembling. “I don’t care,” he pants. “I just… I need you.” His hips stutter, cock pressing further against her skin. “comes on, love—help me.”

with a slow, deliberate movement, she slid a hand down, fingers brushing through the fabric at his waistband. Simon’s breath hitched, and he stills for a heartbeat as her fingers slip inside his boxers, palm pressing over the tense coil of him. her touch languid, and teasing—and Simon’s world exploded.

he bucks his hips, letting her palm guide him, white-knuckled grip on her hip tightening. “oh god—yes,” he rasps, voice rough. “just like that—don’t stop…”

her thumb flicks over his tip, Simon’s head dropping forward, lips grazing her neck as he moans into her skin. her tried to keep his eyes open, to look at her, but the pleasure was overwhelming, a storm building faster than he could handle.

she’s leans down, lips brushing his ear. “you’re so needy, Si,” she murmurs, then firmly: “let me help you.”

before he can respond, she frees him, hand wrapping fully around his shaft. Simon’s hips snap up toward her, desperate to meet each stroke. he pressed his forehead to her shoulder, breath ragged, every nerve ablaze. “please,” he whimpers, “I need to feel you.”

her other hand roams to his jeans, tugging them down in one swift motion. Simon’s cock sprang free, immediately pressing against her thigh again. she grips him harder, palm sliding in a slick rhythm that matched his frantic thrust. Simon gasps, hands tightening in her hair as she guides him, thumb teasing his underside until he could barely hold back.

Finally, with a guttural cry, Simon came undone—hot, powerful pulses of release spilling onto her thigh, dripping down in warm ribbons. his body shudders, hips stuttering in the remnants of his orgasm even as he slumps forward, forehead pressed against her, breath coming in ragged sobs of relief.

[pooksamiras]

- amira. 2/25/25. 10:28. PM.

Simon groans into the silk-wrapped pillow as her cool fingers dance along the rigid length of his cock, her touch feather-light but insistent. he lay on his back, wrists loosely pinned above his head by silk ties she secured earlier—an unspoken promise, she’s in control tonight. the headboard pleasantly cool against his shoulders, but his skin felt alight, nerves humming with need that’s been building for days.

she knelt between his thighs, eyes glinting with playful wickedness. she leans forward, brushing her lips over the crown of his shaft, then withdrew just enough so he could feel the soft ghost of her breath, before she vanishes from sight. Simon’s hips snap up in reflex, chasing that warmth, but the gentle pressure on his chest held him down.

“not yet,” she whispers against his skin, low and teasing. her fingers trace light, slow circles around his frenulum, catching every nerve ending, setting his veins on fire. the slick bead of pre-cum forming at his tip glistened in the lamp’s glow, she dips her thumb to gather it, smearing it across the underside of his shaft. Simon’s breath hitched, eyes drooping at the delicious friction.

she alternates between teasing pinches at the tip and languid strokes along the shaft, driving him wild with the sweet knowledge that release is just out of reach. Simon’s hands clench into fists, knuckles whitening against the sheets. his breaths become ragged—each inhale a plea, each exhale a groan.

he felt himself teetering on the edge, mind fracturing into white-hot bliss, she pulls away entirely. Simon hissed, hips bucking, voice raw: “please, baby…”

her laugh soft, full of promise. “you’ll get mine, love,” she murmurs, leaning down to kiss the swollen head of him ever so gently. the brush of her lips nearly undid him. he trembles, heart pounding.

she backs off again, slipping two fingers beneath the elastic of his boxers, teasing the soft skin of his balls before yanking the fabric down in one swift motion. the sudden cool air made him shiver, and she seized the moment—fingers lacing around his cock in a luxurious, slow grip.

Simon’s head fell back, mouth opening in a silent plea as she strokes him with deliberate skill. her thumb teasing his tip, circling just the way he loves, each pass sending tremors straight to his core. he groans her name, eyes squeezed shut, body arching into her hand.

but at the very moment he felt the coil unravel, saw the world narrow to that one explosive point, she slows to a mock-casual caress. Simon’s groan caught in his throat, and he squeaks in frustration, arms pulling uselessly against the ties.

“oops,” she teases, voice silky. “enjoying that?”

he can only pant, unable to form words, body slick with sweat. she rose, climbing onto his lap, her bare chest pressed against his, the warmth of her skin a soothing balm to his rawness. she kissed the hollow of his throat, letting him feel her pulse as her hands slid back to cradle his head, guiding his gaze to her burning eyes.

she began to strip, slow and deliberate: first the soft camisole, then the lace panties, each discarded piece feeding his desperate need. by the time she hovers over him again, naked and perfect, Simon’s cock is aching with frustration and anticipation.

she leans down, lips brushing his ear. “this time, you’ll earn it.”

her hand wraps around him once more, stroking in long, confident sweeps. Simon bucks into her palm, but she held him steady, thumb teasing his tip until he felt the world shutter with the approach of release. with a sultry grin, she reversed her grip—fingers clenched at the base, thumb pressing so firmly against the crown that Simon gasped, pleasure lancing through him in agonizing pulses.

he trembles on the brink, vision blurring, every nerve ending alive, but she never let him fall. each time he inched closer, she twist her thumb harder, a delicious denial that spikes his need even higher. Simon’s moans turn desperate, each a raw confession of how much he belongs to her.

finally, when his body shook so violently he could barely hold on, she relents—just enough. her hand releases him entirely, the sudden absence a shock: a sensational rush that sends him plummeting over the edge. with a strangled cry, Simon came—pulsing in thick, hot ropes that spatter across his lower abdomen and drips from his shaft.

she caught every drop on her palm, licking it up with slow sensuality, eyes never leaving his trembling form. Simon’s chest heaved, sweat beading at his hairline, as he watched the curve of her tongue, the satisfaction glowing in her gaze.

[pooksamiras]

- amira. 5/25

Simon slid inside her slowly, the heat of her wrapping around him like a soft fire. his breath hitched, chest tightening—not from pleasure, but from the desperate effort to hold back, to not lose himself too quickly. he’s painfully aware of every inch sinking deep, the slick, warm walls gripping him like a vice, and her soft, almost innocent moans that escape her lips as she loses herself in the moment, completely unaware of the battle raging inside him.

his hands grip the mattress, knuckles white, as he fought to steady his hips. the slow, shallow thrust is agony—so close to tipping over, yet determined to hold back, savoring every heartbeat of this torment. she gasps softly, eyes fluttering close, fingers digging into the sheets, completely consumed by the waves of pleasure washing over her. she didn’t notice the tension in Simon’s jaw, the way his entire body trembles with restraint.

he swallows hard, biting his lip as he kept his gaze locked on her face—the flushed cheeks, parted lips, eyelashes wet with the promise of more. his cock throbs painfully inside her, desperate for release, but he slows, letting himself stay suspended in the delicious ache, stretching the moment between them. every pulse of his heart was synchronized with her soft cries, and it made him want to collapse, to lose control, but he held on.

“Simon?” she whispers, breathless and innocent, unaware of the storm beneath the surface.

he gives her a shaky smile, a low growl rumbling deep inside his chest, he leans down pressing his forehead against hers. “not yet, love,” he murmurs, voice rough and raw with need.

[pooksamiras]

- amira. 5/25. 4:50 PM.

Simon’s breath came in ragged bursts as he knelt between her thighs, fingers pressed into the plush carpet to steady himself. the afternoon sunlight slanted through the blinds, striping her body in gold and shadow as she leaned back on the edge of the bed—eyes heavy-lidded, lips curved in that wicked, patient smile he both loved and dreaded.

he’d been on the brink more times than he could count, her teasing touch and whispered commands drives him up the wall. each time he’d beg for release—voice thick, eyes pleading—she’d pulled away at the last second, letting him taste promise without granting it. now… now he’s spent on need.

her fingers dance along the length of his shaft, slow feathered strokes that made his cock twitch in desperate gratitude. every inch of him throbbed, veins pulsing with pent-up fire. Simon hissed as her thumb skipped over the crown, drawing a shaky moan that echos off the walls.

“not yet,” she purrs, the words a soft lash. she leans forward, capturing his mouth in a deep, shuddering kiss—tongues tangling—before she pulls back, leaving him gasping, hollow-eyed with want.

he swallows hard, gripping the carpet tight, his knuckles whiten. her lips form a challenge. he’s on his knees; she’s in full control—and he loves it.

“please,” he rasped, voice low and broken. “I need you.”

she reaches up, tracing a sultry line from his chin down to his chest, fingertips brushing over the rigid swell beneath his shirt. Simon bucks against her touch, cock hardening with every breath. she smiles, only the barest hint of indulgence in her gaze.

“show me you deserve it,” she whispers.

her hand flashed down, encircling his cock with a firm, guiding grip. she began to pump—slow, deliberate—letting him build until he’s quivering. Simon’s back arched; a soft groan rumbling in his chest. he closes his eyes, head lolling back, utterly at her mercy.

then she stalls—pulling away so abruptly he cursed, hissing as the delicious tension snaps taut. he opens his eyes to see her watching him with that predatory glint. he lunges forward, desperate to reclaim even a fraction of the pleasure she’d taken away, but she presses a palm to his chest, halting him.

“not yet,” she repeats, voice velvet-soft.

he swallows the groan threatening to escape, heart pounding. her fingers were back, gliding over him in slow circles, each pass a fresh ignition. Simon’s hands tangle in her hair, pulling her down into a bruising kiss as he tries to steady himself.

for long, torturous minutes she worked him — teasing glides over his tip, firm strokes along his shaft, the flat of her palm brushing below his balls. he shook, voice cracking as he begs again, but she only rewards him with a sharp edge of her nail that made him see stars.

at last—he’s trembling so hard he could barely hear his heartbeat—she gives him exactly what he’s earned. her hand wraps him fully, pumping with rhythm and skill that drove him wild. she leans in, warm breath tickling his ear.

“cum for me,” she coos.

Simon’s head drops back, mouth falling open in a raw, silent plea. beneath her touch, the pressure built to a fever pitch. his hips buck involuntarily, pulling her hand against him, needing more. she matches his thrusts, guiding him with a steady hand, with a shuddering cry he tips over the edge.

he came with a guttural groan, hot spurts coating her fingers, dripping down his shaft. his body seized, chest heaving as wave after wave of pleasure rips through him—long, intense, cleansing. he clung to her hand as if it’s a lifeline, eyes squeezed shut, mind reduced to brilliant white light.

when he stilled, trembling and drenched, she brushed her thumb tenderly over his slick skin, capturing his release.

[pooksamiras]

- amira. 5/25. 3:37 PM.

Simon pauses in the doorway, boots still laced tight, uniform stained with dust and sweat from months of hellish deployments. He lets the door click softly behind him, heart hammering as he takes in the sight of her—bedside lamp casting her silhouette in warm glow, hair tumbling over one shoulder, the curve of her hip exposed by the loose tee she wore. every ache in his body pulsing for this moment.

he crosses the room in two long strides, hands sliding up her sides cupping her waist. she looks up at him, eyes bright with longing and relief, breath catching as he dips his head to capture her mouth. his kiss fierce—hungry, and bruising—tongue pressing into hers as he finally tastes home again. her arms wrap around his neck, fingers tugging at the nape of his hair, anchoring him.

when he broke the kiss, lips moving over her jaw, neck, sucking bruises into her skin, Simon sinks to his knees in front of her. he tugs the hem of her shirt over her head, revealing the soft plane of her stomach and swell of her breasts. he pauses to nuzzle the underside of one breast, tongue flicking over her nipple until it hardens into a taut peak. she shivers, breath hitching, he smiles against her skin.

standing, he swept her toward the bed, gently pressing her onto the mattress. he kicks off his boots, stripping away the last of his uniform—shirt, pants, underwear—until he’s bare before her. she watches him, pulse fluttering, as his cock sprang to attention, straight and rigid. Simon crawls on top atop her, hands bracing on either side of her head, and paused. his eyes lock on hers, dark with desire.

with a low groan, he aligns himself at her entrance. “fuck,” he moans, breath ragged and thick. “I missed you…” as he sank in, inch by delicious inch, until he’s buried to the hilt. the gasp that tore from her throat echoed through the room, mingling with the thick smack of skin on skin.

Simon waits a heartbeat, letting her adjust to his length, then began to move—slow, deep thrusts filling her completely. each roll of his hips pulling her tighter around him, warmth and wetness clinging to every ridge. he let his head fall forward, pressing his forehead to hers, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “so good to be back,” he murmurs, voice raw.

she wraps her legs around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back, urging him deeper. Simon’s hands slid down to her hips, fingers digging in to ground himself as he set a steady rhythm. he watched her face—eyes squeezed shut, lips parted in silent moans, cheeks flushed—and it drove him on. his thrusts grow insistent, each a little faster, a little harder, as he chases the perfect angle that makes her back arch and breath catch.

between the snaps of his hips, Simon props himself on his elbows and kissing her—mouth meeting mouth, tongue exploring, hands roaming over her curves. he broke away with a low groan, trailing kisses down her collarbone, across her breasts, pausing at her belly. he gently nips, drawing a soft cry, resuming his relentless pace.

her hands fist in the sheets, nails grazing the fabric as pleasure coils tight in her core. Simon felt it building in the pit of his stomach too, every nerve ending sparked alive. he angles his hips upward, finding that sweet spot, thrusting deep and fast till her walls clench around him with a shuddering tremor. he matches her spasms, driving into her with hard, final strokes.

with a guttural growl, Simon came—pulsing deep inside her, warm release flooding both. he rides the waves of his orgasm, hips stuttering, breath shuddering, until every last tremor fades. he collapses forward, chest resting against hers, wrapping around her in a tight embrace.

they lay there, hearts pounding, bodies slick, the only sound their ragged breathing. Simon presses a kiss to her temple, his voice soft, heavy with love and desire. “I’ll never leave you like that again,” he vowed, mouth brushing against her hair.

[pooksamiras]

- amira. 5/25. 4:15 PM.

Simon’s back arches into the mattress, every inch of him hungry as she settles astride his hips. his hands grip the sheets in white-knuckled desperation, fingers digging into the linen, holding on for dear life. his breath ragged gasps, chest rising and falling so hard you can see the sweat glistening at the curve of his ribs.

she rides him slow at first—deliberate, teasing—while Simon’s eyes flutter closed, lashes brushing his cheeks as he fights to stay present. every time she leans forward, pressing the soft swell of her breasts to his sternum, his hips buck up on their own, a instinctive reflex that drew a low, needy groan from deep in his throat. he tries to keep his gaze on her face, to anchor himself, but his vision blurs with desire. his pupils dilate, a flush spreading across his cheeks as his jaw flexed against the pleasure coiling in his belly.

she speeds up, thighs clenching around him like soft steel, Simon’s eyes roll back entirely, exposing the whites in a silent gasp. his head lolls back onto the pillow, mouth parted, he whimpers at the friction, the exquisite drag of her center brushing his crown. his hips thrust upward, meeting her every movement—no longer a partner but a desperate vessel, bucking beneath her in worship.

she reaches down, curling her fingers around his wrists to pin them at his sides. Simon’s chest trembles, every muscle strung tight as she takes control. her other hand travels to the back of his neck, tugging his head forward so he could watch every flex of her body—every roll of her hips, every curve of her spine as she rides him like she owns him. he fights to hold her gaze, to swallow the heat of her smirk, but his eyes kept slipping shut, lashes fluttering, as he rides the edge of release.

“god, you feel so good,” he manages, voice raw, each word punctuated by a shudder that runs through his core. she lean down, pressing a kiss to his lips—soft, commanding.

“show me, Si,” she whispers against him. “show me how much you need me.”

his hands clench into fists, knuckles turning white, as he tries to respond. instead, his hips jolt up in a sudden, shuddering thrust that sends a surge of pleasure rippling through him. his eyes rolling back again, a guttural cry tearing from his throat, filling the room with the sound of submission.

[pooksamiras]

- amira. 05/25. (naughty girl).

she smirks up at him, lips swollen, eyes glinting with mischief as she rocks her hips at a slow and deliberate pace on his cock. His back presses into the headboard, thighs tense beneath her, his arms braced at her sides, like he’s holding back from ruining her.

“Don’t look at me like that, Riley,” she whispers, breathless and smug. “You’re the one who let me on top. You did this to yourself.”

His gloved hand shoots up, grabbing a fistful of her hair, yanking her gaze down to his. His mask is pushed up just enough to reveal the snarl on his lips, his jaw clenched so tight she swears she could feel it in his cock, pulsing inside her.

“Call it obsession,” he growls, eyes dark and burning through her, “or foolishness or fuckin’ madness…”

He thrusts up hard without warning — a brutal, possessive snap of his hips that knocks the air from her lungs. she whimpers, her cocky façade cracking.

“But you keep your fuckin’ eyes on me.”

she tries to look away — maybe just to catch her breath — but his grip tightens, his other hand clamping around her throat, squeezing just enough to make her entire body light up.

“I said,” he rasps, voice ragged with restraint, “eyes. on. me.”

And she obeys — not because she’s scared, but because something in his gaze is wild, raw, like if she doesn’t look at him, he might come undone.

“I ride better when I close my eyes,” she manages, breath shaky.

Simon chuckles darkly, low and vicious. “Then maybe I’ll fuck you into the mattress instead. You won’t be ridin’ shit if you can’t walk after.”

she gasps when he flips her in a blur, pressing her into the mattress, his body looming over hers, his hips grinding cruelly slow.

“Not lookin’ so cheeky now, are you?” he murmurs against your ear, biting down her shoulder hard enough to mark. “You’re mine. You come with me. You come for me. And you don’t fuckin’ look away.”

she whimpers his name, dazed and dizzy with how deep he is, how he owns every inch of her body.

He licks a stripe along her neck, his tongue hot and heavy. “That’s right. Keep your eyes on me, sweetheart. I’m the only fuckin’ thing you need to see.”

[pooksamiras]

- amira. 05/18/25. 9:48 PM.

(how much he loves her dress.) #2

she moans as simon buries himself inside her, the thick stretch of him making her head fall back against the wall. he hisses through his teeth, his hands gripping her thighs tighter, spreading her wider as he starts to move — deep, deliberate thrusts that leave no room for thought, only feeling.

“Fuckin’ hell…” he grunts, forehead pressing against hers, sweat already forming at his temple. “You take me so well. Like this cunt was made for me.”

she whimpers his name — barely a breath — he growls in response, snapping his hips harder, deeper. the sound of her slick echoing between them, her body rocking with every thrust. she clings onto his shoulders, nails digging into the solid muscle beneath his shirt, and he loves it — loves feeling her losing control for him.

simon kisses her again — rougher this time, tongue invading her mouth like he’s claiming every inch of her. One hand moves to her chest, kneading her breast, thumbing at her nipple until she’s gasping into his mouth. The other drifting between her legs again, circling her clit in messy, relentless strokes.

“Wanna see you come for me, darlin’,” he murmurs, his voice low and frayed. “Wanna feel you clamp down on my cock while I’m buried deep inside you.”

she whimpers his name again, voice shaky, every nerve ending drawn tight.

“Go on,” he coaxes, her lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Be a good girl f’me. Come all over my cock.”

that’s when it hits her, it’s everything. her vision blurs, her back arches, a cry escaping her — high and broken — as her walls spasm around him. He groans loud in her ear, his rhythm faltering just a beat before he slams deep and stills, emptying himself inside her with a guttural growl.

both stay there for a moment — panting, trembling, clinging to one another like the world just shifted beneath their feet.

then, he slowly lowers her onto the bed, arms still around her. His forehead rests against hers, as he watches her dazed expression, a rare softness in his eyes.

“You alright?” he asks, brushing damp hair from her cheek.

she nods weakly, leaning into his touch.

simon chuckles — low and fond — then presses a kiss to her forehead. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not done with you yet.”

[pooksamiras]

- amira. 05/19/25. 6:46 AM. (simon’s pov.)

I fuck her like I’m never gonna see her again.

She’s folded beneath me, thighs pressed to her chest, body shaking against the mattress as the headboard smashes the wall with every brutal thrust. Doesn’t matter if the neighbors hear — she’ll be louder than them anyway. And fuck, the way she clenches around me like that? it’s like she wants them to know, wants the whole bloody building to hear how good I fuck her.

Her cunt is soaked, stretched tight around my cock, fluttering like she’s already coming again — I’ve lost count. Doesn’t matter. I’m not stopping. Not ‘til she forgets her own damn name.

My mouth drags along her neck, biting, sucking — leaving marks like an instinct. I feel her pulse under my tongue, her breath stuttering. “So fuckin’ good for me,” I growl against her skin, hips snapping into her. “Your cunt’s made for me, yeah? Squeezes me like it knows who owns it.”

I bite down, harder this time — right where her shoulder meets her neck. I need to leave something that stays. The bruises on her tits and thighs? They’ll fade. This one—this—will linger, just like the ache I’ll leave deep in her belly.

She’s trembling, whimpering under me, I feel her walls flutter again. She’s close — again — but I’m not done.

Just when her body starts to go limp, thinking I’ll finally give her a break, I flip her, dragging her onto me. She whines — a sweet, pathetic sound — hips shaking as she tries to move. Cockdrunk, and ruined, barely holding herself up.

“Aw, what’s wrong, darlin’?” I taunt, voice thick with mock sympathy. My hands gripping her hips, forcing her to grind against my cock, buried inside her. “s’ it too much? Can’t handle my fat fuckin’ cock?” i mock.

Her eyes roll, tears clinging onto her lashes, lips parted like she wants to beg. I almost let her. Almost.

My hand snakes down between her parted thighs, finding her swollen clit, pinch. Not gently.

She gasps — back arching, as her body jolts.

“Need help?” I echo, tilting my head with a grin. “That’s too fuckin’ bad, isn’t it?” My voice dips lower, dangerous. “You’re not gettin’ a fuckin’ thing until you ride like you mean it.”

she will. She always does — eventually.

I’ll make sure of it.

[pooksamiras]

- amira. 5/18/25 8:51 PM

Simon’s arms are canvases of ink — dark, intricate tattoos that twist along his skin like smoke, etched into him long before he ever imagined someone like her, entering his life. Wrapping around his forearms, crawling up his biceps, disappearing beneath the sleeves of a tight black shirt that clung to every sculpted ridge of his body. Faded scars interrupted the flow of ink — reminders of life spent in combat, discipline forged through years of military service. His hands rough, calloused. — hands made for breaking, but now, for holding, her.

He hadn’t come to that grimy little dive bar looking for anyone. Least of all someone soft, so bright-eyed, and warm. He stays tucked in the shadows, the glow of the neon barely catching the matte ink of his skin. People usually know to keep their distance. But, then she walks in. — curious, unafraid, drawn to something dangerous like a moth to a flame.

“Nice tattoos,” she murmurs, voice soft and intimate as her fingers graze the lines on his arm. Her touch light, almost reverent, but enough to make his muscles twitch beneath her fingertips.

He’s never been one for indulgence. Self-restraint is second nature — ingrained, necessary. But she is a temptation wrapped in softness, and something in him gave way.

—

Now, hours later, she’s pressed against the cold wall of his apartment, dress hiked up over her hips, tits spilling free. He drags her panties down with little ceremony, letting them dangle around one ankle. The air was thick with heat and tension, the dim light casting theirs bodies in an amber shadows.

“Wanna know something about my tattoos, darlin’?” Simon’s voice low and gravelly, vibrating against her skin as he pressed the heavy weight of his cock along her slick folds, teasing, coating himself in her arousal.

“They’re older than you, sweetheart.”

She whimpers, biting her bottom lip hard enough to sting, a breathy moan escaping as his words sank in. But she doesn’t pull away — no, she pushes back into him.

“Didn’t think you were into that,” he muttered with a smirk, and then he pushed inside — slowly at first, then all at once. The room echoed with the obscene squelch of him sinking deep into her soaked heat, her walls fluttering around him.

“Didn’t take you for someone who had a thing for older men,” he groaned, wrapping a large, inked hand around her throat, applying just enough pressure to make her eyes flutter. “Turns you on, yeah? Getting filled up by a man with tattoos older than your ass?”

Her legs tremble as he began thrusting, each snap of his hips sharp and precise. She could barely breathe, let alone speak, her brain melting under the weight of his cock.

“Already gettin’ dumb on me?” he cooed mockingly, his voice laced with dark amusement as tears welled in your eyes. “Fuckin’ hell, look at you. Cryin’ like a good girl.”

He watched every twitch of her body with greedy eyes. This — this — is more real than any night he’s spent fisting his cock in a lonely bunk, teeth gritted behind a balaclava, imagining something softer than his own rough palm. Now he has her, warm and wet and real, and he isn’t letting go.

He speeds up, fucking into her like he needs her to live, slick sounds loud and messy between them.

“C’mon, darlin’,” he murmured, tapping her cheek gently, coaxing her out of her haze. Drool trickling from the corner of her mouth. “Give the old man some respect, yeah?”

She moans brokenly, while he grins — all teeth and hungry — before burying himself deeper, like he wants to leave something behind inside her.

And maybe, he already has.