#joe goldberg textpost

[romantacysblog]

Joe Goldberg | Smut

"You're such a fucking pervert, Joe," you taunted, circling him like a vulture as he struggled in the chair, his body bound and at your mercy. His eyes were screwed shut, a muffled groan escaping his lips as he squirmed, trying to escape the overwhelming sensations you were inflicting on him.

"Look at you, all tied up and helpless," you continued, running a finger down his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles. "It's pathetic, really. A strong man like you, reduced to this."

You gripped his cock, stroking him slowly, feeling him pulse in your hand. He let out a whimper, his hips bucking despite his efforts to control himself. You could see the conflict in his face, the battle between his desire and his pride.

"You stole my panties, you sick fuck," you said, pulling the lacy fabric from his mouth and dragging it down his chest, using it to tease him, to heighten his senses. "You think about me, don't you? At night, in your bed, wishing you could fuck me. Isn't that right?"

You leaned in, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, "Isn't that what you want, Joe? To fuck me?"

He let out a shuddering breath, his body trembling with need. "Y-yes," he stammered. "But please... it's too much."

You chuckled, a low, wicked sound. "Too much? We're just getting started."

You straddled him, feeling his hard cock press against you through your thin thong. You ground against him, using his body for your own pleasure, smiling as he let out a low groan.

"Do you want this, Joe?" you asked, rocking your hips, feeling him slip between your folds, coating him in your wetness. "Do you want to fuck me?"

"God, yes," he hissed, his head falling back, exposing his throat. "Please, let me fuck you."

You smiled, a cruel, knowing smile. "Maybe. But first, I want to watch you lose control. I want to see you beg."

You reached between us, gripping his cock, stroking him in time with your hips, using his pre-cum to lubricate your hand. He was panting, his body tensing, his muscles coiling as he tried to hold back his orgasm.

"Come for me, Joe," you whispered, your lips capturing his in a fierce, demanding kiss. "Let me feel that hot cum cover my hand."

He obeyed, his body convulsing as he came undone, his release spilling over your hand, coating your skin. You continued to stroke him, milking him for every last drop, a satisfied smile on your face as you watched him shatter.

"But remember," you said, leaning in, your voice a low, dangerous growl. "You don't get to touch me. You don't get to fuck me. You're just a pathetic, perverted little bitch who gets to watch me. Who gets to imagine what it would be like to have me."

You stood up, leaving him bound and helpless, his body slick with sweat, his breath coming in ragged gasps. You smiled down at him, a cruel, dominant smile.

"Welcome to your punishment, Joe," you said. "I hope you enjoy the show."

[lesbianpoetess]

she says shes going to lock me in a cage like joe goldberg. i do not know who joe goldberg is. please send help.

[gordonstanheight]

NO… I WAS GONNA START NOAH WYLE FILMOGRAPHY BINGE TODAY BUT I FORGOT THE YOU FINALE WAS DROPPING…… i hope for an unpleasant end for joe goldberg. we will be watching

[um-vvhat]

Is season 3 supposed to be one long dissertation of how hypocritical Joe is?

[romantacysblog]

Joe Goldberg | Smut

Joe Goldberg stood in the doorway of his carefully curated bookstore, his eyes locked onto yours as you nervously fidgeted with the hem of your dress. You were new to this world, a naive young woman stepping into his carefully laid trap. He knew exactly what he wanted, and he always got what he wanted.

"Come here," he commanded, his voice a low, dominating growl that sent a shiver down your spine. You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest, before taking tentative steps towards him. He watched you with a predator's intensity, his eyes roaming over your body, assessing and calculating.

When you reached him, he didn't touch you immediately. Instead, he circled you like a shark, his fingers lightly tracing the curve of your shoulder, the small of your back, the swell of your hip. You could feel his breath on your neck, hot and heavy, as he leaned in to whisper, "You're mine now. Every part of you belongs to me."

You shivered, a mix of excitement and fear coursing through your veins. He knew he had you hooked, and he was just getting started.

"Hands behind your back," he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument. You complied, your breaths coming in short, nervous gasps as he produced a length of rope from his pocket. He bound your wrists together, the rope digging into your skin, a stark reminder of your submission. "This is just the beginning," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "I'm going to make you beg. I'm going to make you scream. And you're going to love every fucking second of it."

He led you to the back of the store, to a hidden room filled with an array of toys and implements designed for pleasure and pain. Your eyes widened as you took in the sight, your innocence on full display. Joe smiled, a wicked, knowing smile, as he pushed you gently onto the bed.

"Let's start with something simple," he said, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a vibrator. He turned it on, the low hum filling the room, and your eyes widened as he approached you. "Have you ever used one of these before?"

You shook your head, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "No," you whispered.

He smirked, "Good. Then I get to corrupt that innocence."

He ran the vibrator down your body, the buzzing sensation making you jump and squirm. He teased you, dragging it along your inner thighs, your stomach, your breasts, always avoiding the places you ached for it most. You moaned, your hips lifting off the bed, begging for more.

"Please, Joe," you whimpered, your voice hoarse with need.

He chuckled, a dark, mocking sound. "Please what? Please fuck you? Please make you come? Be specific."

"Please... make me come," you begged, your body trembling with anticipation.

He smiled, a slow, evil smile. "Not yet. I want to hear you beg first."

He continued his torture, the vibrator buzzing against your clit, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. You moaned, your head thrashing from side to side as he brought you to the brink of orgasm, only to pull away at the last second, leaving you gasping and wanting.

"Joe, please," you cried, your body aching with need. "I can't take anymore."

He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a fierce, demanding kiss. "You can and you will," he growled. "I want to hear you scream my name. I want to feel you shatter around me."

He pushed two fingers into you, curling them to hit that sweet spot inside, while the vibrator continued its relentless assault on your clit. You screamed, your body convulsing as an orgasm tore through you, leaving you breathless and spent.

But Joe wasn't done. He continued to finger-fuck you, his fingers moving in and out of you with a wet, obscene sound. He added a third finger, stretching you, preparing you for what was to come. You moaned, your body clenching around him, already building towards another orgasm.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice a low, encouraging growl. "Come for me again. Show me how much you love being my little slut."

You came undone, your body shaking and convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. Joe watched you, his eyes dark with desire and dominance, as he brought you to the brink of overload.

"Joe, it's too much," you gasped, your body oversensitive and aching. "I can't take anymore."

He smiled, a wicked, knowing smile. "You can and you will. I own your orgasms now. Every single one belongs to me."

He reached into the drawer again, this time pulling out a small, silver clamp. He attached it to your clit, the metal biting into your sensitive flesh, sending a jolt of pain and pleasure through your body. You cried out, your back arching off the bed as he began to move inside you again, his fingers and the vibrator working in tandem to drive you wild.

"Joe, please," you begged, your voice a hoarse, desperate plea. "I need to come. I need to come so bad."

He leaned down, his teeth capturing your nipple, biting down just hard enough to make you scream. "Come for me," he growled. "Let me feel that tight little cunt milk my fingers."

You obediently came, your body clenching and unclenching around his fingers, your screams filling the room as you rode out the storm of your orgasm. Joe watched you, his eyes dark with satisfaction, as he brought you down from your high.

But he wasn't done. Not by a long shot.

He unclamped your clit, the blood rushing back to the sensitive nub, making you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure. He positioned himself at your entrance, his cock hard and ready, and pushed in slowly, inch by inch, filling you completely.

"You're so fucking tight," he groaned, his head falling back as he began to move, his hips thrusting against yours in a relentless rhythm. "So fucking perfect."

He reached up, his hand wrapping around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. "You're mine," he growled. "Say it."

"I'm yours," you repeated, your voice a breathless whisper.

He smiled, a dark, satisfied smile. "Good girl."

He increased his pace, his body slamming into yours, the bed shaking with the force of his thrusts. You could feel your orgasm building, a coiling tension in your core that threatened to explode. He leaned down, his teeth capturing your nipple, biting down just hard enough to send you over the edge.

You screamed his name, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you. He followed soon after, his own release tearing through him, your name a growl on his lips.

But even as he collapsed on top of you, his body slick with sweat, his breath ragged, you knew this was far from over. Joe Goldberg was a man who got what he wanted, and what he wanted was to break you, to punish you, to make you his in every possible way.

And you, innocent and naive, were more than willing to let him.

[romantacysblog]

Vouyerism | Joe Goldberg

He leaned against the doorway, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched her. She was oblivious to his presence, humming a tune as she moved about the kitchen, her hips swaying gently to the rhythm only she could hear. He loved these moments, these stolen glances into her world. It was a voyeuristic thrill that he couldn't get enough of.

His eyes traced the curve of her back as she reached up to grab a glass from the cabinet. Her shirt rode up slightly, revealing a sliver of skin, and he felt a familiar stirring in his groin. He imagined running his hands over that soft skin, pulling her against him, and kissing the back of her neck. He could almost feel her melting into him, her body pressing against his as he explored every inch of her.

She turned to the counter, leaning against it as she poured herself a drink. His mind went wild with scenarios. He envisioned himself stepping up behind her, his hands gripping her hips as he ground against her. He could see it so clearly—her gasping in surprise, then moaning as he kissed her neck, his hands roaming under her shirt to cup her breasts.

He shifted uncomfortably, adjusting himself as he continued to watch. She took a sip of her drink, her eyes closing briefly as she savored the taste. It was an innocent enough action, but to him, it was pure seduction. He wanted to taste her, to feel her lips against his, to explore every part of her body with his tongue.

As she turned to leave the kitchen, he quickly ducked out of sight, his heart racing. He loved this game, this cat-and-mouse between them. He knew he was a perv, a voyeur, and he didn't care. Watching her was his favorite pastime, and he couldn't get enough.

Later that night, as he heard the shower turn on, he couldn't resist the urge to peek. He opened the bathroom door slightly, just enough to see her silhouette through the steamy glass. His breath hitched as he watched her move, her body a blur of motion behind the fogged-up shower door. He imagined joining her, his hands soaping up her body, exploring every curve and valley.

He knew he was a total perv, but he didn't try to hide it from himself anymore. He loved watching her, loved the thrill of knowing he was seeing something so intimate and personal. And he loved the way it made him feel, the way it made him ache for her.

As he finally retreated to his room, his mind was filled with images of her—images that would keep him up all night, hard and wanting. But he didn't mind. It was a small price to pay for the pleasure of watching her, of knowing that she was his, even if she didn't know it yet.

[romantacysblog]

Joe Goldberg | Smut

Joe Goldberg stood in the dimly lit hallway, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest as he held the delicate lace fabric to his face. The scent was intoxicating, a mix of sweet perfume and something more primal, more intimate. He inhaled deeply, his eyes fluttering closed as he savored the aroma. It was her scent, and it drove him wild with desire.

He had always been a man of obsessive tendencies, but this was different. This was a need that consumed him, a hunger that gnawed at his insides until he was reduced to a desperate, needy creature. He had taken to collecting her underwear, stealing them from her laundry or, on occasion, directly from her drawer when he was in her apartment. Each pair was a treasure, a piece of her that he could hold onto, a way to feel connected to her when she wasn't with him.

Joe retreated to his bedroom, the sanctuary where he indulged in his secret kink. He locked the door behind him, ensuring that no one could disturb him during his private ritual. He laid the underwear on his pillow, the sight of it sending a shiver of anticipation down his spine. He quickly undressed, his movements hurried and clumsy in his eagerness.

He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself so that the underwear was directly under his nose. He took another deep breath, this time letting out a soft moan as the scent filled his senses. His hand wrapped around his already hard cock, stroking slowly at first, building up a rhythm that matched the pounding of his heart.

In his mind's eye, he imagined her, her body writhing beneath him as he pleasured her. He wished it was her cunt on his face, her wetness coating his tongue as he devoured her. The thought sent a jolt of pleasure through him, and he stroked himself faster, his grip tightening.

"God, I need you," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "I need your scent, your taste, your touch. I'm so fucking addicted to you."

His imagination ran wild, creating vivid scenes of the two of them together. He saw her riding him, her head thrown back in ecstasy, her tits bouncing with each movement. He saw himself behind her, pounding into her from behind as she moaned his name. But it was never enough. His imagination could only take him so far, and it left him craving more, always more.

He could feel the pressure building in his balls, the familiar tightness that signaled his impending release. He increased his pace, his hand moving furiously as he chased his orgasm. With a final, desperate inhale of her scent, he came undone, his cock pulsing as he spilled his seed onto his stomach.

Joe collapsed onto the bed, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He kept the underwear on his face, not wanting to let go of her scent just yet. He felt a moment of contentment, of satisfaction, but it was fleeting. Already, he could feel the need rising again, the desperate hunger for more of her.

He knew he was addicted, a slave to her scent and the fantasies it invoked. But he didn't care. He couldn't care. She was his obsession, his fixation, and he would do anything to be closer to her, to feel her, to taste her.

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, Joe's addiction grew stronger. He found himself stealing more of her underwear, his collection growing until it filled an entire drawer. He would spend hours in his room, jerking off to her scent, his imagination running wild with scenes of the two of them together.

But it was never enough. His vivid imagination, once his greatest asset, now felt like a curse. It couldn't satisfy the deep, aching need he had for her. He needed the real thing, the taste of her, the feel of her body against his. He needed her, and he would stop at nothing to have her.

One day, as he was leaving her apartment after one of his visits, he noticed a small, delicate necklace lying on the floor. It was hers, a gift from an ex-boyfriend, he knew. He picked it up, his heart pounding as he held it in his hand. An idea formed in his mind, a plan to get closer to her, to make her his.

He waited for the right moment, biding his time until he saw an opportunity. He invited her over to his apartment, cooking her dinner and playing the part of the perfect gentleman. As they ate, he could feel the tension between them, the unspoken desire that hung in the air like a thick fog.

After dinner, he suggested they move to the couch, putting on a movie to set the mood. He sat close to her, their thighs touching, and he could feel the heat of her body, the scent of her perfume filling his senses. He fought the urge to lean in and kiss her, to take what he wanted, what he needed.

As the movie played, he casually mentioned finding her necklace, watching her reaction closely. "I found this on the floor," he said, pulling it out of his pocket. "I think it's yours."

She took it from him, her fingers brushing against his as she did. "Thank you," she said, her voice soft. "I've been looking for this."

He leaned in, his voice a low whisper. "You know, I have something else of yours. Something very personal."

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she didn't pull away. "Oh, yeah? And what's that?"

He smiled, a slow, predatory smile. "Your scent. I have it on my pillow, on my sheets. I jerk off to it every night, wishing it was you underneath me, your cunt on my face, your taste in my mouth."

She let out a soft gasp, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment and excitement. "Joe…"

He didn't give her a chance to respond. He leaned in and captured her lips in a passionate kiss, his hands roaming her body as he explored every curve and contour. She melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she kissed him back with equal fervor.

He knew he was taking a risk, pushing her like this, but he couldn't help it. He needed her, and he was willing to do whatever it took to make her his. As they kissed, he could feel her body responding to his, her nipples hardening against his chest, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

He broke away from the kiss, his voice hoarse with desire. "Come with me," he said, standing up and pulling her to her feet. "I want to show you something."

He led her to his bedroom, his heart pounding with anticipation. He opened the drawer, revealing his collection of her underwear, each piece a testament to his obsession. She looked at him, surprise and curiosity written all over her face.

"Joe, what is all this?"

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for her reaction. "It's you. It's your scent, your taste, your essence. I can't get enough of you, and this is the only way I can feel close to you."

She looked at the underwear, then back at him, her expression softening. "Joe, that's… that's intense."

He nodded, his voice barely a whisper. "I know. But it's the truth. I'm addicted to you, and I can't deny it anymore."

She reached out, her fingers tracing the lace of one of the pairs. "And you jerk off to my scent?"

He nodded, his cock already hardening at the memory. "Every night. Wishing it was you, wishing I could taste you, feel you, be inside you."

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with desire. "Then why don't you?"

He didn't need to be told twice. He pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply as he laid her down on the bed. He explored her body with his hands, his mouth, his tongue, savoring every inch of her as if she were a delicious meal laid out before him.

He could feel her responding to him, her body arching against his as he teased and pleased her. He made his way down her body, his tongue tracing a path down her stomach, her hips, until he reached the apex of her thighs. He inhaled deeply, her scent filling his senses, and he groaned in pleasure.

"Fuck, you smell amazing," he murmured, his voice muffled against her flesh. "I could eat you out all day."

And eat her out he did. He devoured her, his tongue delving into her folds, his lips sucking on her clit until she was writhing and moaning beneath him. He could feel her hands in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him on as she chased her orgasm.

When she came, it was with a cry of his name, her body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over her. He lapped up her juices, savoring the taste of her, knowing that this was what he had been craving all along.

As she came down from her high, he positioned himself at her entrance, his cock hard and ready. He looked into her eyes, seeing his own desire reflected back at him.

"Is this what you want?" he asked, his voice hoarse. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

She nodded, her eyes never leaving his. "Yes, Joe. Fuck me. Make me yours."

He didn't need to be told twice. He thrust into her, their bodies joining in a primal, passionate dance. He moved against her, their breaths mingling, their hearts pounding in sync as they chased their pleasure together.

It was everything he had imagined and more. The feel of her, the taste of her, the scent of her enveloping him as he moved inside her. It was perfection, and he never wanted it to end.

As they came together, their bodies shaking with the force of their release, Joe knew that he had found his home. He was where he belonged, and he would do whatever it took to keep her, to make her his forever.

In the aftermath, as they lay entwined in each other's arms, Joe knew that his addiction was far from over. But he also knew that he had taken the first step in satisfying his need, in making his fantasies a reality. And he was hungry for more.