#d/s dynamic

[daddyinfinite]

[stuffielover19]

another one from the drafts of me humping my teddy cuz it felt so good on my cunny 🥰

[universalboyslut]

Nothing is hotter than being talked through getting yourself off, a dom giving instructions for every little movement and just knowing you'll listen and be obedient because of course you will, you want to be a good boy right? If you just follow what they say you'll feel so good

[whimperaudioconnoisseur]

i know it’s mean to make a sub use their brain to answer a question the way i want when i’ve deliberately made them stupid horny. it’s just so fun and cute to watch them struggle <3 and with gentle condescension help their silly little brain put a sentence together before i turn it off for them again

[c-and-matteo]

naughty boys who pull away when I touch their hole get their legs tied apart so they can’t move at all or hide their parts from me.

[sugusatodyke]

Big fan of scary and intimidating femmes turning into big crybabies when they get fucked by their butch! Poor femme getting so strapdrunk they can only reply with the words "Mhm," "more," or "please" because they're too stupid to speak without wailing or whining. They don't trust themselves to form words because they know they'll sound like a dumb, needy mess, and their butch will make fun of them and mock them and call them a stupid girl! The poor femme wouldn't even be able to defend themselves, and they'd have to agree that they are a stupid girl!!

[stuffielover19]

first time being handcuffed 😊

[thinkingthotsx]

picture them sitting in your lap, back to your chest with your arms around them. you hold your vape pen in one hand, bringing it to their lips often as something plays quietly in the background.

“oh, you are high aren’t you, sweetheart?”

a pathetic nod, eyes bloodshot and glassy, pupils dilated as they stare back.

“it feels good, doesn’t it?”

a bashful whimper as they try to drop eye contact.

“aw, no reason to be nervous. i just want to make sure you’re enjoying yourself properly.”

after a pause, they look back up at you, eyes wide.“yeah, it feels good.”

“do you know what would feel even better?”

not waiting for a reply, you start drawing caresses along their body with your free hand. down their arms, back up. the soft drag of your nails down their back. a hand in their hair to pull them to rest back against your shoulder as you lift the vape to their mouth again.

“that’s it, angel. suck for me.”

every hit lowers their walls another inch. the tension has slowly been melting from their body, they’re laughing a little more, leaving thoughts unfinished.

this is the perfect position to whisper in their ear - “you look perfect like this. pliant and sweet in my arms, right where you belong.”

you can watch the goosebumps roll across their skin as your lips brush their ear. another hit, and you use the distraction to close the distance and trace the shell of their ear with your tongue, nipping at their lobe. a full body shiver, this time. your teeth on their neck are rewarded with a gasp that shifts into a smoky moan when your teeth sink in.

satisfied that they’ll stay put, you can resume your other hand’s journey. trailing your hand across their chest to trace along their nipples and sternum and collarbones. digging your nails in slightly along their ribs to make them sigh your name. grasping their hip and grinding them down into your lap as you suck and bite along their throat.

they buck their hips slightly in your lap, silently requesting your hand move to where they clearly need it most. you make them take a hit at the same time that you deliver a light tap between their legs in punishment. lungs full, they can barely let out a noise in response, eyes glistening wide and cheeks pink with lust.

“ah ah ah, dear. i’ll be doing the thinking for both of us tonight, and you’ll take what i give you.”

[beccawise7]

A woman who feels safe & secure in your physical, mental, spiritual & emotional presence will open herself fully to you.

Her mind, body & soul... Yearning to be explored in ways she's craved, yet never known.

Your touch & confidence in leading her.

Your Hands against her skin. Firm but gentle.

Your eyes admiring her beauty. The way your voice leads & encourages her as she comes undone for you.

Perfection.

Rare but exquisite when witnessed.

~beccawise7💜🖤

[kittygirlari]

yea sex with an older man is nice but what about being yearned, loved, and taken care of by one :(

[boysr4breaking]

my type of carrying on

[stuffielover19]

i’m sorry daddy i couldn’t help it, it felt so good…

[beccawise7]

And in that moment the world around us ceased to exist...

~beccawise7💜🖤

[yamysunmoon]

We shouldn't

Pairing: Jenna x fem!reader

Summary: You run a very successful company, all eyes are on you. No one could imagine such a focused woman could be so easily distracted by her beautiful secretary.

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: semi-public sex, sub!jenna, dom!reader, strap-on!reader, begging, some hair pulling.

MASTERLIST

Running a successful company is as fulfilling as time-consuming. You've had a couple of extremely busy months, going from meeting to meeting, to events abroad, to some more meetings; and although you can finally see all the hard work paying off, you're starting to feel burnt out.

It's a crucial moment for your corporation, you know you have to keep it together and go through this tough time.

That's why you hate that your body has other plans.

She is the most beautiful criature you have ever seen. She is graceful, elegant, captivating... She is a distraction, she is trouble.

You shake your head trying to dissmiss these alluring thoughts. You close your laptop with a dry thud.

Propping yourself on your elbow of your desk's office as you rest your chin on your hand, you look through the large window mindlessly.

It all started half a year ago, before the business started to go this well. You were less busy back then, and maybe not this earnest.

She was always so enciting, so ready to take you.

She never took in the power gap, and after some months working for you, she started to dress up to go to work, swagging her hips everytime she came into your office to remind you of some meeting, hand over important documents, or any excuse she could come up with to show off.

She was always so sure of herself, confident enough to tempt you even when you weren't obvious about your intentions. Later on, after numerous encounters, she teased you stating you were more blatant than you thought.

She was probably right. Now, staring at the sky, you can conjure up the mental picture of her exposed legs each time she walked into your office with a cute little dress; how smooth her hands would feel when they grazed yours briefly as she handed over some important file; how your gaze would linger on her body longer than the appropiate amount of time—

You sigh as you recall how she'd smirk at you each time she catched you, a knowing smile tugging at her plump lips glazed in some reddish lipgloss you'd smudge later.

You stand up, walking towards the window as memories flash in your head.

Her in all fours, you tossing her hair to a side so that you could admire her beautiful back arched for you.

Her looking at you over her shoulder, a smug smirk on her lips, you fucking her bratty attitude out of her.

Her fingers scrambling for something to hold onto and loud wails coming out of her throat as you rammed her.

Her sinking onto her knees, peeking up at you with those doe, pleading eyes, yearn gleaming in them.

She would beg for your domineering touch, for you to pound into her. She would stare at you and ask for the nastiest things with that pretty little mouth of her. Such beautiful lips confessing such obscene wishes.

She knew she shouldn't,

that's why she wanted it so much.

At the end of the day, you knew she was all bark and no bite. She loved to provoke you, to test your limits; the limits of your relationship too.

She wanted to dare you, all the time. Her eyes would sparkle with mischief everytime a new dirty idea popped up in her mind. She would stand there, one hand splayed out on the desk, the other on her hip; she'd cross her legs in that sultry way she knew drove you insane.

You look over your shoulder, glancing at your desk, picturing her.

She would stare at you. Oh, that stare meant trouble. She would arch one eyebrow, her deep brown eyes giving you her undivided attention, you could almost see yourself in them. She would look at you through her eyelashes, batting them like a beautiful bird seducing a mate. And damn were you down for it.

She couldn't care less if somewhere else was in the room, rambling about a co-worker or planning the next presentation with you. She never cared. She would just walk in, hand you a paper, give you that stare, that pose, and then walk away knowing you couldn't stop thinking about her until the end of the meeting.

You run your hand over your mouth and face in frustration, trying to stay present.

It's been months since you last had her. It's getting strenuous.

Doesn't matter how rough the day has been, how exhausted you are. The moment you launch onto your bed, she's the one thing in your mind.

The responsabilities and pressures of your work fade away, and your mind fills with memories of her, thoughts of her, the wish of her.

And you let her consume you, every night. You find yourself letting go in your fervish dream, imagining her in your bed, her hands on you touching you just like you touch yourself. Her soft, ardent hands.

Then you squeeze your eyes shut and stifle loud whimpers, feeling your own release coating your fingers, instead of her addictive warmth all over your hand. And you groan in frustration, the haze dies away and your mind resumes with its usual calculation of your next day to-do list.

Each and every night you find yourself in this situation. Hands on yourself, bed without her.

You snort, hot air leaving your lips as you sit back on your desk chair. You shake your head, dissapointed with yourself. Out of all the topics that could be bothering you, how can you be this upsted about—

The sound of the door opening makes you dart up your eyes, and who you find leaning against the doorframe makes your breath hitch.

"Morning, boss" she greets with her usual playful voice. "New files came from the marketing department. They need your thumbs-up."

You need a couple of seconds you register her words, as her outfit blows you away.

She's wearing a fitted white sweater, combined with a long leather-brown skirt and akin jacket. Her lips are full, glazed in a matte crimson lipstick and her fresh new cherry cola dyed hair shines under the bright light of your office.

She doesn't wait for your verbal reaction; she's got everything she wanted from you with that ajar mouth and wide eyes you're giving her.

She chuckles to herself, lightly, as she walks over making sure she leaves the door shut behind her.

She approaches swagging her hips in that specific way, making her look surreal, like she's floating and you're just a mere mortal lucky enough to testify the majesty of her movements.

Your gaze slides up her body, soon meeting her usual self-satisfied expression. She's looking at you through her square-red-glasses, which you find as cute as they are sexy.

She stands in front of you, thighs grazing the edge of the desk through her skirt. She tilts her head up slightly, now waiting for a response.

You blink twice and shake your head a little pushing away the dirty thoughts about her skirt, glasses, hair.

"Okay" you dryly say, keeping it proffesional and extending your hand.

She hands you the papers, narrowing her eyes. "Is everything okay?" Her head remains tilted, eyes glimmering with suspicion.

You mirror her expression, and your voice comes out lower, warning. "I know what you're doing." You shamelessly check her out.

She pauses, then let's out a sarcastic laugh. "Oh yeah? What is it, that I'm doing?" she coos, stepping one leg over the other.

You toss aside the papers and gaze at her, silent.

There's a tension in the air, in the way you're sat with your forearms on the table, fingers interwined; in the way she's standing before you, still, waiting for your next move.

"Not here" you threaten, a hint of scold in your voice.

The smirk comes back to her lips, knowing she's pushing your buttons. She places her hands behind her back and leans forward playfully.

"Since when did you become such a prude?"

You clench your jaw, eyes darkening. Her smirk grows wider; she's not afraid of you, not afraid of what she might loose if she keeps playing. She's not afraid of anything, apparently.

You stand up abruptly, you can tell you catch her off guard as her eyelids flutter at the sudden movement.

You creep up on her, hovering around her, your shoes clacking quietly against the floor.

You stand right behind her, your arm grazing her ribs as you lean closer. "We could get caught up" you whisper, hot air fanning the back of her ear.

You look down noticing how she plays with her hands nervously. "I don't mind" she says rebellious; but there's a trembling in her voice.

You smirk smugly. "Oh, is that right?" you challenge. "You don't mind if I don't lock the door and just bend you over this desk and fuck you senseless?" you hiss, lips hovering behind her earlobe.

She fidgets, bringing her hands to her front. She's grasping onto herself, already gasping quietly just with the thought of what you have just described, the vivid image taking shape in her head.

She dares to turn her head a little, feeling your defiant stare on her profile. "What if I say I don't? What if I say I truly don't mind?"

"You'd be lying."

"I wouldn't."

"Prove it."

She freezes, then looks at you over her shoulder properly. She raises her eyebrows, incredulous.

You arch an eyebrow in response, waiting for her answer. She swallows hard, and then you see it. There it is. The surrender.

Slowly, you reach up to her chin and make her look to the front. She obliges, not a single question leaves her lips.

She lets her hands fall to her sides, and wiggles her shoulders slightly making the jacket slide off her arms. You help her take it off, and then place it carefully on the desk in front of her. She frowns confused by your actions, but remains silent.

She knows this is a ritual of yours; setting it all up. She knows what's about to happen, and the last thing she wants to do is to make you reconsider. She can't afford your doubt right now— she's been waiting for this for months.

You walk your hands down her arms covered in that sweater, and you wish you could undress her completely right now. "I miss your naked body" you mutter, rubbing the side of her neck softly with the tip on your nose, inhaling her scent.

She closes her eyes and sighs, you feel her body relaxing, shoulders falling, meek.

"I miss taking my clothes off for you" she whispers back, desperation tainting her words.

For a brief moment, heavy breathing is all that fills the room. You both can hear the chaos outside, people all over the 16th floor working in tandem, giving their all for this company. Anyone could knock at the door at any given moment, because not a single decision is taken without your agreement to it.

"Please" she adds, fully giving in. "I need it. I'll do anything."

They all need you all the time. But right now, in this moment, all you need is her.

Your hand on her chin reaches back to her back, splaying out between her blades.

"Bend over" you say quietly, your voice low and rough, although there's a hint of patience too. A relaxed calm; control.

Patience she does not have, as she complies eagerly bending over the desk. She now understands why you placed the jacket there, as she turns her head and rests her cheek on it; its cool fabric refreshing her torso through her sweater.

You run your hand through her back, down to her lower back. You wish you could take your time with her, drive her insane before you give her the pleasure of feeling you. But there's not much time. You were serious about your bet— you're not gonna lock the door.

"I'm not planning on being gentle" you warn once again.

She arches her back slightly, lifting up her backside for you.

"I don't want you to" she challenges, her voice trembling and thick with anticipation.

You slide your fingers lower, tracing her buttcrack "You sure?" you tease, your voice low and playful, mocking.

She shudders in exhasperation. "Yes. Fuck, yes" she pants, wiggling her hips impatiently. You can feel her body getting stiff; holding back from moving more.

You hear more movement outside; tumult.

"I hate it when you make me do it like this" you hiss, grabbing the hem of her skirt and pulling it up. "All fast and sloppy."

She lifts her hips eagerly, her skirt rigged up her waist. "Yeah, sure" she says sarcastically, a dark chuckle escaping her lips. "As if you don't love to fuck me like this— FUCK"

You interrupt her banter, earning a sharp stifled squeal, by pulling aside her thong and sliding a finger inside her dexterously.

She moans your name in a surprised whine. "You motherfuck—"

She interrupts herself again, bringing a hand to her mouth to keep herself quiet. You groan in approval, "that's right" you growl.

Her arousal is all over your finger, inner walls clenching greedily around you as the drenched warmth covers your skin. You can't even begin to imagine how much she's waited for this, how long she had been fantasizing about this before walking into your office.

God, you've missed this.

It doesn't take long for you to start thrusting. She takes each thrust willingly, pulling back to take you deeper. Her breathing gets heavier, she's drooling onto her hand and down to her jacket.

You bring your other hand to her hair, first stroking ever so softly, then grabbing a fistful of it and pulling back, making her lift her chin.

A muffled whine escapes her lips, she flutters her eyes shut in bliss.

"Love the new color, by the way" you tease lowly, plunging harder into her.

She groans, rolling her hips hungrily. She withdraws her hand briefly, "more" she half commands, half pleas.

You pause deep inside her, tapping at that spot that makes her see stars. "Say that again" you demand.

She shivers, choking high-pitched moans that die in her throat.

"More" she says gentler, "Please, more."

You grin. "That's better" you praise. Then, you slowly pull out only to add a second finger that she accomodates immediately.

She gasps loudly, her inner walls pulse around you. She hisses a soft 'thank you' that makes you smirk.

"Oh you're welcome, princess" you coo lowly, resuming with the shoves.

She snaps her head onto the desk, taking each and every thrust with renewed vigor, following your pace obediently. Each time you push forward, she leans back hard. So hard, that she notices something bulging under your suitpants.

She looks at you over her right shoulder, eyes wide and lips parted as she pants out, "are you wearing it?"

Your gaze blazes into hers. "Yeah" you whisper breathless.

Sometimes you like to wear it just because. It makes you feel even more powerful than you already are.

She lets out a trembling, longing sigh. She throws her head onto her jacket again, her hands grasping onto the fabric. The rustling noise of leather mixed with her pleading sighs send a shiver down your spine.

"Please..." she begs misserably, her thin voice muffled against the desk. "Put it in... I can take it, you know I can."

Your thrusts turn slower, thoroughful; as you try to think

But the sight of her, bent over like this for you, sinking in desire, pleading like this, sounding like this –weak voice eventhough her words still carry her usual brattiness– it's all just too much to bear.

You pull out roughly, earning a sharp cry of hers. Her legs shake with unspent desire, she still manages to stand still, ready for you.

You stare at her exposed flesh as you unhook your belt, the ting of the steel tickling her ears, a warm tingling spreading through her cunt.

"I don't have any lube" you murmur, using her own arousal coating your fingers to moisten the tip of the strap.

"I think I can take care of that" she says smuggly, yet breathless. You chuckle darkly, always blown away by her ability to remain snide.

She's not lying, though. Her folds are glistening with arousal, juices dripping down her inner thighs. You reach down, spreading her wetness, then covering the shaft with it, stroking firmly.

She quivers at the sound of it all and whines in complain.

"I know, I know..." you murmur soothingly, pressing the tip against her entrance, her thong tossed aside carelessly in a way that makes her backside look even more full and rich.

She pulls back greedily, her patience too far gone. She takes you easily, the toy slamming roughly deep inside her before you can even register it.

She arches her back and moans loudly, you quickly silence her by putting you palm over her mouth. She bites hard, her sounds making your hand vibrate.

You start rolling your hips, pounding into her steadily in a growing motion.

She cries out, arching her back further beautifully, you feel the need to caress it tenderly, a sharp contrast to how hard you're taking her.

She might have a big mouth, but one thing she doesn't do is lie. She always complies. She was right; she can take it. Sure she does.

You start ramming even harder, toy buried to the hint with each shove as the wet sound of flesh against flesh fills the room.

Her muffled high-pitched moans are scrumptious, stirr you up and motivate you to bump harder, faster, rougher.

"More, more, more" she implores through shaky, breathy moans, her plump lips brushing the palm of your hand, teeth sinking into your skin as she desperately tries to remind quiet. You can feel the drool falling down her chin, her throat reverberating under your touch. Her glasses are smashed against her face as she bounces erratically, eyes squeezed shut, tilting her head.

Your hips move frantically, bumping into her for all she's worth, her juices glistening around the shaft. She's soaking for you, making it slide in a clean way that makes the both of you feel shattered.

Your hand snakes down from her lower back to her backside. You hook a finger on her thong and tug at it teasingly, she whines against your hand.

Then you let go of it, making it darn against her skin. She jolts, whimpering onto your hand; but her back archs with enthusiasm.

This makes you grin, amused by her reaction. "You really can take it all, huh?" you breath out, sliding your hand lower. "Such a champ... Deserves a prize."

She squirms and writhes as soon as your fingers make contact with her neglected, throbbing clit. It's swollen and damp. She's drenched, it's all over her.

"Fuck, you're beautiful" you murmur, winded. Your words make her moan in bliss and profound pleasure, jerking back against you.

She bites your palm harder now, hips swagging with wanton abandon, hands splayed out on her sides, holding herself as she takes you anxiously. You've never seen her like this before, so avid of you, so itchy. But you couldn't love it more.

Her body goes rigid, hips still rolling, tip of your toy rubbing her G-spot deftly, base slamming onto her outer pussylips, fingers circling her clit just in the right way.

You're hitting all the right spots, and although she'd like to edge longer, to prove you how good she is, how good she can be for you, this time she has to let go of her pride and simply relent.

Her body shakes violently, writhing in pure rapture as she cums hard on your cock, juices gushing out of her, down her inner thighs freely.

Her muffled sounds die in your hand as she cries out in unbridled pleasure, riding back onto you wave after wave of deep delight.

She collapses onto the desk with a final, trembling, content sigh; loosening her grip on your palm to replace it with thankful, sated kisses.

You give her some last thrusts before you finally pull out of her, and you're still caressing her sensitive nub. "You're so good" you coo tenderly.

You slowly slide up your hand, earning a soft whimper from her. "Not enough?" you tease smirking.

She manages to glance at you over her shoulder, and she's about to respond when a soft thud interrupts her.

Someone is knocking the door.

You step back from her, you two looking around trying to figure out what to do.

"Boss?" the muffled voice of Enrique comes through the door.

She's barely standing up, jelly legs can't allow her to walk out the door just casually, feidging you two just had a chat.

"Are you there?" He knocks again.

"Quickly, under the desk" you hiss, gabbing her jacket with one hand pulling up your pants with the other, not quite managing to put the strap away. You approach the chair sit there casually, leaving some room for her to crawl under the desk.

"Are you kidding?" She hisses back. But Enrique knocks insistently.

"Two seconds please!" You shout to the door, then look at her intently, raising your eyebrows.

She pouts narrowing her eyes. "Okay, okay" she grumbles, crawling there.

"Sorry, boss" he says, finally steping in without permission, just when Jenna finally hides. "I needed to check, did you get the new files from Marketing? They're going insane over there, John says he's quitting if you don't approve this new version."

You freeze momentarily, staring at him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

He waits, then nods slowly. "Ma'am?" He tries again.

What he doesn't know is that Jenna has just grabbed the shaft between her fingers, and is stroking it slowly, teasingly.

You blink several times and shake your head briefly. "Yeah yeah yeah" you gabble, "Yeah I got it. I'll take a look as soon as—"

You choke a gasp, quickly feidging like your coughing. Your eyes flicker down just for a hot second, catching the image of Jenna staring at you from under the desk, sticking out her tongue and swirling it playfully over the tip.

"As soon as...?"

Your eyes snap up back at him.

"As soon as you leave my damned office, Enrique" you say in a thick voice; a tone you would never use with your employees if not to cover up yourself.

He frowns, noticing your odd behavior. "Whatever..." he murmurs. He's about to shut the door when he stops himself again.

"By the way, have you seen Jenna? She left her position like 40 minutes ago."

Your lips curl down at the corners and you scoot up your eyebrows, performing the role of your life. "I have absolutely no— idea" you manage to groan, she gives the toy a long lick as you speak.

You cough again.

Profusely.

Enrique senses something's up, but he genuinely couldn't care less.

"Are you planning on renewing her contract? Human Resources is already working on the soon-to-expire contracts."

You inhale deeply, pinching your nose. Now that your hand covers your eyes, you glance at her again. She's staring at you with a smirk and the shaft of the toy pressed against her jawline.

"Yeah" you look at him. "No complains. She seems like a good girl" you try to hide the sly smile that threatens to embellish your lips.

Enrique shrugs, indifferent. "Yeah, I guess..." he finally shuts the door.

You let out a deep sigh, leaning back onto the chair. "Fucking hell that was close" you mutter, glancing down.

She gives the toy a final lap before spreading your legs and standing up between them.

"Yeah, someone was definitely close" she needles you, pocking your forehead with a sharp crimson nail.

You offer her a grin, your eyes dizzling and scheming. "Sure..."

A soft chuckle dies behind her pressed-together lips, "Stubborn bitch..." She mutters, attempting to get off you, fixing her skirt.

"Uh-huh..." You purr, sliding your hands under the fabric. You grab the strands of the thong and pull it down. "I'm gonna keep this" you hum, capturing it in a firm fist.

There's a sparkle of excitement across her eyes as she looks at you, one corner of her lips curling up in delighted agreement.

She's not gonna give herself away, though. She huffs and shakes her head, as if what you just did doesn't make her want to ride you right now.

She grabs her jacket and puts it on casually, she pulls her skirt down as she walks towards the door, ready to leave you with intact confidence as if minutes ago she wasn't pleading you to ravish her.

"Hey" you call her, propping your elbow on the desk as you rest your chin on your hand.

She pauses and turns around, looking at you as she casually wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Let me take you to dinner tonight." You play with the thong between your fingers.

Her gaze softens, and she dedicates you one of her warmest smiles, teeth and all. One of those that you hadn't seen for months. She fixes her glasses.

"Okay" she nods.

You both pause, eyes locking with calmness, with trust.

"We can't do this again, okay? I'm serious."

She nods again, but this time in mockery. "Yeah, sure. No way."

Taglist: @bella423

[toxicanonymity]

Hello sweet toxic! May I pretty please have an age gap fic or drabble with game version of Jackson Joel ( my favorite long and grey haired man )!

Maybe something where in the beginning Joel comes off as shy and nervous and sweet but once he and reader get together he’s got the nastiest fucking mouth she’s ever heard once he’s confident that she likes him as a love interest

parts

JOEL x f!READER | 1.8k

He scanned you head to toe, then let out an alright fine sigh. "Tonight, ya can leave any time. Ya’ain’t mine yet, so ya don’t gotta do anything I say..."

NOTES: Hi sweet nonnie ❤️ I watched some tlou 2 gameplay for this, so I hope it helped. Joel is quiet, then dom / dirty

WARNINGS: 18+ Age gap (Joel 60s/reader 20s-40s), objectification of reader, slutty descriptions of men as usual. Joel calls her "honey" and one time, "little girl" (condescending). Beginnings of D/s dynamic, no arrangement, no consummation. Joel holds out, a little grumpy/mean. talk of being owned. degradation, praise, body/pussy inspection.

He stood like a man who no one could bother. Stone cold and solid, with a face that always meant business. His clothes were rugged and worn-in like a cowboy, and the obscenity of his tight jeans left nothing to the imagination, from the back or the front.

The first time you became aware of him, it was from behind, and you did a double take. He ran a hand down the back of his head, smoothing his shoulder-length mane with his other hands on his hip. He was talking to Tommy, and when you heard his voice, the twang put you at ease. He sounded like a nice guy, nicer than he looked.

Your first time at the mess hall, he was kind enough to show you around. You took that as a go-ahead to follow him around anywhere. You began to watch him around Jackson. Not exactly stalking him, but you didn't have anyone else to latch onto. You learned where he went, and you happened to go there too. You were full of questions about how things worked. He always took it seriously. He was a good teacher and didn’t seem interested in anything but helping you when you wanted help.

He taught you how to ride a horse—he must not have noticed you arrived on one. Your loins buzzed as he demonstrated how to sit. His big hands on the reins and the horn were enough to make you wet, but the bulge of his jeans and the way it shifted as he started off at a slow walk. “Now look close, okay? See how I hold it?” You were looking very close.

He taught you how to shoot. Stood behind you and you never felt more safe than holding a pistol with his arms around yours, his chest against your back.

“Attagirl,” he said when you shot the glass bottle target. “Look at that,” he marveled.

To be fair, you weren’t (just) trying to get him in bed. You had lost your traveling party and you joined another one but you felt like the odd one out. It never felt like you had someone to look out for you, specifically you. You hadn’t felt the affection or encouragement of a big, capable man in a long time.

Still, there was no denying you had a crush on him. It felt like a shock that he didn’t have women following him around in droves, until you got to know him and found out he was pretty shy. He didnt't seem to have much interest in anything but practicalities and survival. He was sweet, but never crossed a line.

Even when you started crossing some yourself. He took you on an errand one day, and he was buckling in your seatbelt, and you stopped is hand. You put his hand on your thigh, and watched his face. He kept the same, composed expression, but he couldn’t hide the blush that rose to his cheeks. He left his hand there on your thigh for a moment, then pulled away without acknowledging your move. The time it took him to move his hand made you think he liked it there. It was as though he didn’t want to take it the wrong way, wasn't sure your intentions. He cleared his throat, finished buckling you in, and ran his hand over his smooth, gray hair. It was always so well-kept. You had to wonder what it’d look like first thing in the morning,

One night, at the tipsy bison, you came in by yourself in a short dress. He looked you up and down and gave you a curious look, but didn’t acknowledge you. He was talking to Tommy. Tommy craned his neck to get a look, raised his eyebrows, and gave you a nod before grinning at his brother and resuming their conversation. Tommy was hot, too, but he was taken. Otherwise you’d love to see him in nothing but that ponytail. You sat at the other end of the bar and Joel tried not to look at you, but Tommy gave you a wink.

Another night, you showed up to the mess hall too late for dinner, and he was on his way out. He lived close enough and offered to make you something at his place, no problem.

When you came inside, you took off your boots, he took your coat, and when he finished hanging it up, he looked back to see you in a thin, low cut shirt and no bra. His mouth hung open and you gave him a flirtatious smile, as though to say, what?

“Ya’ain’t cold, are ya?” He asked with a pink hue creeping up his neck. He rubbed his beard.

“No, are you?” You asked.

“No,” he muttered, then composed himself and went to the kitchen alone.

When he came to serve dinner, your eyes were on his jeans. The heft of his manhood was always apparent, but there seemed to have been some growth in the time since you’d been at his house. You leaned over the table as you ate your meal, and he tried to keep his eyes off your chest. It was a small, round table, and there wasn’t much of anywhere else to look. He looked at his meal as he ate. You looked at his forearms.

After he finished eating, he dabbed each corner of his mouth with his napkin, folded it, dabbed his beard, and cleared his throat. Meanwhile, your foot nudged his ankle. His face darkened. Your foot moved up his pants, and reached the seat of his chair. He didn’t bat your foot away, but he didn’t look at you until your foot slid right up his thigh and gently nudged the hard bulge in his jeans.

His strong chest heaved, and he didn’t make a move, but his face was reddening as he cleaned his hands with the same napkin.

He looked up as he finished wiping his hands. “Think I’m your plaything, little girl?” He harshly smacked the cloth napkin down on the table, then his strong hand wrapped around your entire foot in his lap. His eyes darkened with a forward tilt of his head, and his voice took on an edge. “Or you tryin’ to be mine?”

You rubbed your lips together and looked at him fondly. He raised his eyebrow to prod for a response.

“Wanna be yours,” you answered matter-of-factly.

“You dunno what you want, girl.” He pushed your foot away, then adjusted himself.

When he stood up to take the dirty dishes, the silhouette in his jeans made you throb. He did the dishes, and when he was finished, he opened a beer.

He walked through the dining area on his way to the living room. “Still here,” he muttered, but didn’t stop to talk. He sat down on the sofa and turned on the radio, not inviting you to join him.

You joined him anyway.

You sat on the sofa, not too close, with your hands folded in your lap.

“You wanna know what it means to be mine?” Joel asked.

“Yes, please,” you answered.

“It means I own you,” he said.

“Okay,” you agreed. “I’m yours.”

He looked at you skeptically. "I’ain’t agreed to own ya yet,” he clarified. "Ain't just something ya do. Takes work from both'a us."

"of course," you acknowledged.

“Gotta know it’s somethin’ ya really want, and if it is, we’ll agree on some rules, safe words and shit.”

“Okay,” you agreed excitedly.

He scanned you head to toe, then let out an alright fine sigh. “Tonight, ya can leave any time. Ya’ain’t mine yet, so ya don’t gotta do anything I say, okay?”

You nodded.

“But later on if ya *are* mine, you do what I say, when I say it.”

He was so serious and official about this, it sounded like he was briefing his men for some kind of operation.

“Okay” you agreed.

"so what's it mean to be mine?" He asked.

you shrugged. "You do what you want with me."

He nodded hesitantly.

“It means I take care'a ya, protect ya, and I own your body. it ain’t yours anymore,” he looked you up and down. “It’s mine,” he stated emphatically. “*if* I decide I want it.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” You asked.

He blew out air through puffed cheeks as if there was a long list.

“Ain’t got patience for brats.”

”I can be good,” you promised.

”Ain’t got patience for tears either. Too distracting out here, still gotta focus on survivin'.'

You tried not to show your worry.

”Ain’t sure ya can handle it,” he admitted

"Ain’t lookin to break in some tight little pussy while she cries and bleeds, either.” he cocked an eyebrow at you, and grabbed the massive protrusion in his jeans. “This ain’t no joke, honey. I don’t wanna hurt ya.”

“I’m not a virgin,” you insisted.

“Yeah? Well ya better fit four fingers 'fore ya 'spect me to try it."

“And I promise I’ll do what you say.”

Joel sighed. “Alright, take your clothes off.." He held up his hands to acknowledge your freedom "OR leave, and we’ll forget this ever happened”

You obediently stripped.

He took sips of his beer as he watched your body emerge from your clothes. “Alright,” he nodded. “Good girl.”

Once you were bare naked, he instructed you to turn around. You did just as he asked.

“God damn,” he whispered. “Now, c’mere.”

With him manspreading on the sofa, he made you stand between his knees and bend over.

“Spread your pussy for me,” he demanded.

You hesitated.

“Don’t have to,” he reminded you.

You reached back and tried to do it with one hand, one finger on each side of the lips. “Like this?”

”Both hands, darlin’. “

You spread your pussy lips for him with both hands.

”Good girl,” he said. “Wide as ya can. Wanna see your parts if they’re gonna be mine.”

You pulled wider

He let out a low whistle. “Juicy little thing. Sure would like to use it...But I’m thinkin’ it might not fit, honey.”

“Why don’t you try it?” You asked.

You turned around and tried to straddle him. He visibly tensed. You reached for the bulge in his jeans.

He snatched your wrist to stop you. “You don’t get to touch me without askin’,” he admonished you. “Notice I didn’t touch you that whole time?”

Your face heated in shame, and his hand loosened. You got off of him.

“That’s enough for tonight,” he said. “I’ll think about it.”

“You’ll think about it? ‘

“I’ll think about it.”

Your eyes were tearing up.

“Ya did good, honey, it’s okay,” he promised. He picked up your clothes and helped dress you. “Just ain’t the kinda choice ya make on the fly. You gotta think about it too, okay?”

You finished getting dressed and nodded.

“I’ll think about it too,” you agreed.

“Good girl,” he answered, rose to his feet, and gave you a kiss on the forehead. Then he got your coat and opened the door. As you began to leave, he stopped you, “Hey,” he lowered his voice. “Ya got a beautiful body. Anyone’d be lucky to own it.”

---

----

-------

---------

Thank you for reading 🖤🖤

[stuffielover19]

love playing with my new toy!! but i wish i was fucking myself on daddy’s cock instead 💦