josephines-simps-fics - Tumblr blog

josephines-simps-fics · 2 months ago

Text

PLAYBACK

summary: You’ve been friends with Clark since college, long before you ever started filming yourself for strangers online. He’s one of your closest friends, the one you trust the most, and the only person you’d trust to help behind the camera when you wanted your content to look better.

pairings: cameraman!clark kent x adult content creator!reader

warnings: 12k words. mature themes. unprotected p in v. internal ejaculation. masturbation. sex toys (dildo / vibrator). edging. cum play. clit play. sex work. oral sex (f!receiving). voyeurism / filming. praise kink. read responsibly.

note: hey. another clark fic, but this one’s way longer than the last! <3 i’ve been wanting to write a camgirl reader fic for a while now but couldn’t decide who to pair her with until i realized clark was perfect for it. right? righttt. soft, gentle, the “good guy” who ends up behind the camera and then… well. you’ll see. hope you enjoy, and reblog to support!

Ever since you've known Clark, you've heard people compliment him and say he has a good eye. But personally, you know it’s more than that. He saw things that people ignore, even the simplest things that you should ignore. Because of him? It’s something and he can see them, like light catching on the hair and it shines brighter, how the hand curls around the coffee cup, how shadows land in the skin in an unexpected moment and it hits just right. You and Clark met way back in college. It was before he got his job here in the city, when he was still carrying the camera he saved up money for using his college allowance to buy a second-hand, beat-up Nikon. You can remember when he used to show you the photos he took for the student paper. It’s photos of the protests, sports, or whatever people hired him to do on and off campus that can pay for his food that week.

You know Clark as a soft-spoken person. He’s a sweet guy who is really sweet and you don’t feel it to be forced or performative like what most of the guys do. And he’s not like them because he doesn’t pretend to be nice. With him it just came naturally, it’s like engraved in his personality and as a person. You can prove it by the way he’d offer you before his food when you forgot to eat or when you are short on money. He’s also the kind of guy who will hold your books when you need something to find in your back, and yes, you can attest to that one. It’s never hard to trust Clark. You always did, even though you don’t easily trust men, but he proves he’s worth the trust when he takes your drunk ass home when you blackout drunk, or when he finds you breaking down over a low score in an exam you studied overnight, he stayed by your side until you calmed down.

Some guys will already take advantage of that kind of trust, but he didn’t. Clark never made you uncomfortable by crossing or blurring a line. He never did ever or once. Sure, sometimes you catch him looking when your skirt is too short, but you don’t see him staring longer than you allow. He will just look away fast while his ears are red. That’s what you like about him. He made you feel safe with his presence. You feel like you can tell him anything and he won’t judge. He will probably say it’s the universe’s fault it happened but you are the one in control. You like how he comes up with random motivational and comforting words, but don’t tolerate your ass. Even years later, when life is fucking you both up, trying to figure out how to live, and how to pay bills, it’s still the same. You two still hang out. Sometimes it’s in the small place he rents out for his studio, which is filled with photos he took, and it’s displayed on the wall, or sometimes it’s in your place when you feel lazy to go out for coffee or to go to his studio.

Since you trust him with your whole heart, you told him about the OnlyFans thing one night while you were sitting on his couch, a takeout container balanced on your knees. You didn’t plan to, it just slipped out, but he didn’t flinch or make a face. His eyes just filled with something. You are not sure what it is, but maybe it’s curiosity or something else. But he doesn’t say anything bad, he just nods while chewing slowly before he wipes the sauce from the corner of his mouth. He even asked, “Is it good money?” and that made you genuinely laugh. You tell him the truth that it’s a good side job, it pays the bills, and it’s better than dealing with creepy men at a club, which you also considered working there before.

His eyes are soft, and his lips parting like he wants to say anything, but he just shuts his mouth and leans back. He never acted weird to you after you said it, he never pried or said something that wouldn’t help you, and he never made jokes about it in front of you or behind your back like some of the people you thought you could trust, but they made fun of it when they found out. He just keeps what you said to him a secret and it's not his business to tell others. Clark continues to look at you the same way, as if nothing ever changed, regardless of what you do. And that was enough to keep telling him more. Enough to keep him close, even when you knew you should keep a little distance, because deep down, you were starting to realize that Clark Kent wasn’t just the sweet, quiet friend from college anymore. It wasn’t weird between you after you told him, and that was the best part. Nothing changed. He’s still the same. Same old Clark who will show up with coffee when tour shifts are running late. He will still carry your boxes when you jump from apartment to apartment. What do you always notice? His camera. That damn camera is always with him. It’s slung over his shoulder and hangs beside his hip when he comes by. Lens cap on but easily removable when he wants to capture a moment.

The place was small but enough for you. It’s warm in the sense of how the place gets when you live long enough there. Sometimes it is when he’s checking through photos on his laptop and muttering about the color balance and grain. He even asks for your opinions which are more lively. So you’ll just roll your eyes while you’re editing your content or folding on the laundry before saying he’s the expert. Despite saying that, you will still look at the pictures anyway. You’ll lean over him and can smell the clean soap scent clinging to his body. He never pulled away when you got close. You didn’t bring up the OnlyFans thing again, and he didn’t either. Not until one evening when you were pacing around your living room, hair still damp from a shower, wearing one of those old shirts with the collar stretched wide enough to fall off your shoulder. You don’t even know if you were talking, rambling, or complaining but you are blurting out about your videos. How it looks boring, flat, or how you can’t get the light right no matter how many cheap ring lights you bought online. You even said about how your phone camera blurred and became out of focus when you moved too much. The videos are not ugly, but the quality is not the best. It’s not what you want.

Clark was sitting on the floor, leaning his back against the couch, with his legs crossed like twisters. Laptop resting there. His eyes are watching you behind his glasses and there’s a small crease forming between his brows. You stopped mid-sentence when you realized how you sounded, but he didn’t laugh. “Do you want help?” he asked, voice careful, not pushing. He closed the laptop and tapped his fingers on the edge. You blink at him, clearly caught off guard by what he said. Really trying to figure out if this is some kind of sick joke. “Help? You mean… what, you’re gonna hold my phone while I ride my dildo?” His ears went pink, eyes darting away for a second before finding yours again. “I mean, I could film. If you wanted.” He said it like it was nothing. It’s like he’s just offering you to hold your things or walk you home because it’s already dark. That's enough to make your stomach twist, but not… Not in a bad way.

Words didn’t come out right away. You let the silence stretch out as you touch your hair and fingers playing with the ends. “That’s- Clark, that’s not like, taking photos of a street corner or some old building. It’s…” Your voice trailed, your hand dropping to your hip. His gaze held steady, jaw tightening just a little. “I know.” You crossed the room, toes curling against the floor, arms folding under your chest as you looked down at him. “You’d be okay with that?” He asks you. He swallowed after and his throat bobbed, but his eyes were still locked on you. “If you trust me, yeah.” Your tongue swiped over your bottom lip, considering it. You trust Clark more than you trust most of the people around you, maybe more than you should have.

But this was different. Sure, you told him about the content you do, but you're not even sure he saw it. You feel like he respects you like that, not to check it, so this feels different because you will let someone see you like that. Someone will say it’s no different from watching it from the phone, but he’ll be the cameraman if you agree. You tried to play it off, to keep it from feeling too heavy. “I’d have to pay you, you know. Can’t just have you filming my pussy for free.” His jaw clenched after hearing your words while his eyes flicked down before snapping back up too quickly. There’s a blush creeping in his cheek before he says, “Fine.” His breath is heavy and pushing hard, like he has already made up his mind. “Fine. We’ll figure it out.”

So both of you did and now setting up didn’t feel like a big deal the first time. It’s just Clark after all. He came over with his camera bag and casual clothes. Jeans washed out blue and sleeves rolled to his forearms like it’s too warm. His hair was still a little damp from a shower, and his glasses were sliding down a little bit when he bent over to untie his shoes at your door. You were wearing a hoodie and shorts when you welcomed him in. The fabric is loose and soft. It brushes against your thighs as you step back so he can enter. He stood in your living room for a moment with the camera bag still in his hand and eyes moving around to look at the space you had already cleaned up before you guided him to your room. Your laundry is already folded in piles on the corner, the sound from the air conditioner filling the room while he’s standing in the doorway and shifting from foot to foot. The room wasn’t big but it’s neat and clean. There’s a soft light set up near your desk and the backdrop you always use. It’s hanging neatly against the wall.

Skin is still warm from the shower you took before filming. You just keep the conversation going while he’s helping you put the backdrop nicely behind your bed, which is already half done and hanging when he comes over. You ask for his help so you can smooth the fabric and it won’t wrinkle in the video. “Can you pass me the clips?” you asked, harm already stretched out and hand open without looking at him, and he put them in your open palm, his fingers brushing against yours. You didn’t acknowledge it, just clipped the fabric, stepped back, checked the angles, and asked him to move it a little to the left. He did, careful, silent, eyes on the fabric and not the way your top dipped low when you reached up. “You want water or something before we start?” you asked. Clark shook his head, dropping his bag near the couch inside your room. “I’m okay.” He didn’t look nervous, not exactly. But there was something in the way he checked the camera, fingers tightening on the lens, thumb rubbing over the focus ring while you moved around him, checking your phone.

You didn’t talk about what you were about to do, not really, just moved through the motions of plugging in lights, shifting the small table where you kept your toys and lube, checking angles before nodding at him. “Same framing as before,” you said, adjusting the softbox. “Like the photos you take of me when I’m just sitting around.” He lifted the camera with his heavy breathing and lips twitching a few times. “Are you nervous?” you ask him softly. He freezes before glancing up and his cheeks are burning. “No,” he lied. You smirked, tilting your head. “You’re gonna have to watch me cum, you know.” He didn’t look away but his jaw was locked tight. “I know.” You touched your hair while you turned your back before pulling up your playlist, finding the soft background music you used for your streams. You didn’t rush what you do nor rush him either. Let him settle and let yourself do the same. The room is silent enough except for the quiet breathing you two let out and the sound from the air conditioning. Clark didn’t expect you to strip down instantly, and thankfully, you didn’t. The first session was simple. Nothing too heavy, you said, just letting him get used to it, letting yourself get used to him there.

You pulled on an oversized T-shirt without a bra, panties soft against your cunt, and moved in front of the camera, setting up your pillows on the bed. Clark adjusted the tripod, his breath catching when you lifted the shirt to your waist to sit down, the fabric dropping back over your thighs as you straddled the pillow. When you started, you didn’t look at him. You looked at the camera, talked to your subscribers like you always did, telling them how much you missed them, thanking them for the tips they sent last week. Your hips started to rock, slow at first, the friction catching against your panties as you rubbed yourself on the pillow, grinding down as your breath started to shake. “Oh- fuck, that’s good,” you moaned, soft but clear, letting your hips circle as you pressed down harder. Your voice didn’t hide the pleasure, letting out quiet whines as you told them how needy you felt, how wet you were getting just from the pressure. “Mmm- can you see how wet I am through these? Bet you wish you could taste it.”

Behind the camera, Clark’s knuckles whitened around the handle. He’s trying his best to keep it steady while his eyes flicker between the screen and you, always switching between the two. Cock hard in his jeans and already pressing against the zipper but he doesn’t dare to move and touch himself while he’s filming you. Clark told himself that he was here just to film you, to help your content, to get the lighting right, but help him God, the way you moan when your clit touches the pillow made his jaw tighten. Breath catching in his chest. Face buried in the pillows when you lie on your stomach and continue to grind on the pillow while cumming. It muffles the sounds but not enough to stop the whimpers that let out from you. The loudand uncontrollable moans slip past your lips as your thighs shake. Clark’s camera caught everything you needed. The way your hips become sloppy, the way you tremble. And the wet patch darkening your panties and the cover of the pillow.

After, you pull your shirt down and stand up like nothing ever happened while you stretch. Got a robe while Clark lowered his camera, eyes still looking like he’s going to burn a hole through the pillow you just used. Throat bobbing and swallowing before he clears his throat. “Wanna get dinner?” You ask him with a smile like you just didn’t make yourself shake and cum in front of him. He nodded like he couldn't believe what he just heard. “Yeah. Sure.” You love that he didn’t make it weird so you ordered the favorite takeout you both love and sat on the couch with him while still in your robe and watched some show on your laptop as both of you ate. Legs brushing against each other now and then. Neither of you mentioned the shoot, and that was how you liked it.

The second session didn’t happen right away. It came a week late. What you’re wearing this time is a matching set. It’s a soft pink bra that is placed right on your tits and pushed up to show more of the shape. Paired up with a tiny thong that doesn’t even cover enough for your pussy. He arrived on time, at the time both of you agreed to. Never late as usual. He set up the lights without saying anything, just focusing on the camera. You’re fixing your makeup on the floor with your legs folded under you. “Your hair looks nice like that,” he said quietly while checking the white balance. You glanced over, lipstick halfway applied, smiling a little. “Yeah? Thanks.” When both of you started filming, your eyes didn’t reach him. You touch the straps of your bra and push them down to tease your viewers. Hands palming your tits and rubbing your nipples between your fingers until they were hard. Hips rolling and grinding on your hand, pressing it hard so your palm makes your panties slide against your folds.

“Feels so good,” you whispered to the camera, letting out a breathy “mmm” as you pulled the thong aside, rubbing your clit with your fingers, the wet sounds catching on the mic. “You like watching me touch my cunt, don’t you?” Even though it's addressed to your readers, it made Clark’s cock hard. It presses painfully against the seam of his jeans. His breathing is uneven but he’s trying to control it for the sake of the camera. Chest rising and falling. The camera follows your movements and focuses, adjusting every time you shift. You lean back and your legs fall open wide while the fabric of your thong stretches between your fingers as you continue rubbing your clit. You didn’t make yourself cum this time, just edging yourself until your thighs shake and moan uncontrollably along with the slick sounds echoing in the room.

When you were done, you pulled your thong back into place, tits still heaving, sweat glistening on your chest as you looked into the camera. “See you next time, baby,” you breathed out, blowing a kiss before stopping the recording. Afterward, you grabbed a towel, wiping your hands while sitting. Clark was packing up, hands shaking a little as he wrapped the cables. “You good?” you asked, leaning back on your palms. His jaw flexed, eyes flicking up to yours. “Yeah. I’m good.” He tries his best to answer you. “Cool,” you mutter before you grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator. “You want one?” Hands holding the cold water and eyes on him when you look over your shoulder. “Yeah, thanks.” You tossed it to him, and he caught it, taking a long sip before dropping into the chair, eyes closing for a moment.

When your third session arrives, Clark doesn’t even have the reaction you were expecting when you casually told him that you’d be fingering yourself for this video. It’s like he’s been expecting the worst as time goes by. You wore an oversized sweater, and it’s totally oversized because the fabric falls over your thighs, especially when you sit on the bed. Shorts hugging your curve around your hips. Clark is doing his Clark thing by setting up the camera and lights while you’re scrolling on your phone and humming to a song. “Ready?” he asks you before pointing the camera as he waits for your response. You gave him a nod and pulled your legs up and let the slip in just the right amount to show the top of your thighs. He started rolling and your hand slipped towards the crotch part of your shorts. Fingers pressing into the fabric and breath catching when you start to rub yourself through the fabric.

“Oh, fuck, that feels good,” you moan out with your eyes fluttering shut. Back arching while you push your fingers harder. You can feel the wetness soaking through your panties and hips lifting to grind against your hand. Soft whines and breathy muffling sounds coming out of you as you continue to tease yourself. His breathing is almost suppressed at this moment, the camera barely holding, but it’s steady considering his knuckles were white. The veins in his forearms are popping, and cock is throbbing and helpless in his jeans. The aching feeling is spreading in his system as he watches you pull your shorts down with your panties in swift motion. Your cunt is glistening and soaked and juicy under the light. Fingers sliding between your folds and spreading them for the camera and showing your empty clenching hole before you rub your clit in circular motion and sink two fingers inside your pussy after few minutes later. “Oh- shit- feels so good,” you whimper out and your fingers fucking inside your pussy. The slick sound fills the room while you curl them into the spots you like and moans loudly when your orgasm builds in your stomach.

“Gonna cum- fuck- gonna cum for you, baby-” You came hard, hips jerking, fingers buried inside as your walls clenched, slick dripping down your hand, thighs shaking as you let out “mmm- hah p-please,” breathy moans as you pulled your fingers out, showing the camera how wet they were before sucking them clean. Afterward, you pulled your sweater down, hair sticking to your forehead as you caught your breath. Clark was still there, camera lowered, chest rising fast as he swallowed hard. “Pizza?” you asked, getting up to grab your phone. “Yeah,” he said, voice rough, clearing his throat. “Pizza sounds good.”

The fourth session was different. You picked out a black lace lingerie set, straps hugging your waist, tits pushed up, your cunt barely covered by the thin fabric. Clark’s eyes darkened when you walked out of the bathroom, camera already set up, lights adjusted to catch the shine of the lace. You grabbed your vibrator from the drawer, testing it in your hand before turning to the camera. Clark adjusted the focus, jaw clenched, eyes locked on the screen as you lay back on the bed, legs spreading as you pressed the toy to your clit over the fabric. “Mmm- fuck, that’s good,” you moaned.

Hips rolling, the toy buzzing against your clit as you let out soft, breathy whines, pressing it harder as the vibrations made your legs twitch. You pulled the fabric aside, pressing the toy directly against your bare clit, slick dripping down your folds, your cunt glistening under the light. “Gonna cum- fuck- watch me cum,” you gasped, voice shaking as the orgasm hit. Your hips lifting off the bed, thighs trembling, a choked “mmph a-ah can- c-can’t-” spilling out as you came hard.

You keep the toy pressed and resting against your pulsing clit until you shake and are a whimpering mess. Only pulling it away when your cunt throbbed so hard you can’t take it anymore. Clark bites his cheek behind the camera and it’s almost like he's stopping a loud grunt to let out. So he just lets it sit in his throat as his cock feels so hard against his jeans that probably wetting because of his precum. But he doesn’t move an inch. He doesn’t do anything to touch himself and just stays in the same place with his eyes focused on you while you catch your breath.

The fifth session was the hardest. You were naked this time, a dildo in your hand as you sat on the bed, legs spread, cunt already wet as you looked into the camera, smirking a little. “Missed you, baby,” you purred, running the dildo along your folds, pressing the tip against your slit before pushing it in slowly. Your breath catches as your cunt stretches around it. “Fuck- so full-” You started to fuck yourself, slow at first, then faster, the wet sounds loud as you moaned, head falling back, hips rolling as the dildo sank deep into your cunt. Your tits bounced with each thrust, nipples hard, slick dripping down your thighs as you let out sharp, breathless moans.

The bed creaks under you. “Oh- oh fuck- gonna cum- gonna fucking cum,” you cried out, cunt clenching around the dildo as you fucked it deep, the orgasm crashing over you, your body shaking, moans spilling out in high-pitched “oh god- oh god-” sounds as you came hard, pulling the dildo out to show the camera how wet it was. Clark was breathing hard behind the camera, sweat beading at his hairline, his cock throbbing in his jeans, precum soaking through the fabric. His eyes were dark, lips parted, watching you as you caught your breath, tits rising and falling as you looked into the camera with a soft, satisfied smile. “Thanks for watching, baby,” you whispered, blowing a kiss before stopping the recording.

When it was over, you stood up, wiping yourself down, pulling on an oversized shirt as you walked over to Clark. Eyes meeting yours, and you notice how it looks hungry and dark, but there are no words he’s saying to you. He just packs up his camera and the things he bought over. “Wanna stay for dinner?” you ask sweetly with your head tilted to the side. You can see how his jaw is worked up and him swallowing nothing before he gives you the nod. “Yeah,” he said, voice rough. “Yeah, I’ll stay.” That makes you smile before you walk into the kitchen and pull out the ingredients you need as you act like nothing ever happens. That’s what you do to avoid the awkwardness, you pretend you just didn’t fucked yourself in front of him. He followed, standing close, watching you chop vegetables, the quiet comfortable, the heat still lingering in the air.

You had lost track of how many times he came over as your cameraman for your content after four? Five months? Specific details don’t even matter anymore when he always welcomes you with a camera bag on his shoulder and is always careful with the lens every time he sets it down near your dresser. It almost feels like a routine how you greet him when you open the door for him. Always have that half-genuine, half-tired smile you give him. Sometimes you’re even in your sweatpants, most of the time you're in your robe, but never ever have you opened the door for him naked or indecent. There are times you will see him looking at your naked legs when you turn every time you pretend to check if the doors are locked, pretending not to see when his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. Your bedroom was small but organized, the clean backdrop folding out behind your bed, soft sheets tucked tight so nothing would bunch up on camera.

You liked the bright lights Clark set up, liked how they made your skin glow, how they turned your sweat into something pretty under the heat. It smelled like your lotion and the faint mint of the gum Clark chewed while he checked the angles, chewing slowly, eyes moving from the camera to your bed and back again. “Check sound for me?” he asked, fingers adjusting the mic clipped to the top of the camera. You stood near the edge of the bed, lifting your arms above your head in a stretch, letting your robe slip open just enough to show the lace of your bra before you let out a soft, “Testing, testing. You good?” Clark just gave you a small nod before he shifts in his weight and pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as he looks down at his camera.

Hands were steady, but you could catch the way his knuckles tightened around it when you turned, especially when your robe fell on the floor. You didn’t rush into doing your routine; if anything, you even let him see the lingerie you bought last week for the content you’ll make today. It’s a black lace that hugs the curves in your hips. There’s a red ribbon tied at the sides, and there’s a slit open right down the middle of your panties. It’s cut open to show the soft folds of your pussy, your clit already swollen against the lace from how worked up you felt before he even hit record. The camera light turned red. Your breath caught, not from nerves, but from the way you felt Clark’s eyes on you even when he was looking through the viewfinder. You sat on the bed, legs spreading, letting the lace shift, letting the opening part enough to give him a full view of your cunt, wet already, shining under the lights as you reached for the glass dildo on the side table.

It’s actually one of your favorite toys you have. It’s transparent and clear with a pink swirl down in the middle. It feels heavy in your hand when you lift it towards your lips. You tease your lips with it like it’s some kind of lipstick with the right angle and tilting your head right so you’ll look good when your tongue drags to the length. Spit catching the light as you wrap your lips around the tip and sucking it down with your cheeks hollowing. A soft “mfffh” slipped out, muffled around the glass, eyes fluttering shut as you let yourself enjoy the weight on your tongue, the coolness of it as you sucked it deeper. Your hand moved down, pushing the slit of your panties open wider, middle and ring finger sliding along your slit, feeling the slick already dripping from your cunt, your folds parting as you rubbed slow circles around your clit. You let out a soft whine, eyes half-lidded as you pulled the dildo from your mouth, strings of spit breaking as you lifted it away, letting it drip down onto your pussy as you aimed it, teasing your entrance.

“Fuck-” your voice was breathless, needy, hips lifting to chase the glass as you circled the head around your clit, pressing it against your slit without pushing in yet. Your cunt clenched, pulsing, your wetness coating the toy as you rubbed yourself, teasing, letting your hips rock up while your eyes flickered to the camera. You catch Clark’s reflection in the mirror behind it. The way he stood so still, breathing slow but heavy, his cock hard under his jeans, pressing against the zipper as he tried to keep his focus. Your thighs spread wider, feet pressing into the mattress as you let out a soft, shaky, “Ngh- fuck, baby, you see how wet I am for you?” Your voice was for your viewers, but you looked right at the lens. Eyes glossy, lips parted, and chest rising and falling as you pushed the dildo down. You let the head press into your cunt. The stretch is slow. It drags a gasp from your throat as it slipped past your folds and sinking deeper as your pussy clenched tight around it.

The sound was obscene. Wet and slick. Your hips rolling as you fucked yourself with the toy. Taking your time… Letting it drag against your walls. Letting the camera catch the way your folds spread around the glass and the way your cunt sucked it in every time you pulled it back. Your breath stuttered. A high whimper breaking when the tip pressed against that spot inside you with your hips jerking as you fucked it deeper. You let out a choked, “Oh- oh god, mfffh- feels so fucking good-” Clark’s hands were tight on the camera, his jaw clenched. His locked on the viewfinder but moving to your face every few seconds. He watches your expressions. The way your mouth dropped open. The way your eyes fluttered when you pressed the toy deep. The way your fingers move to your clit. The way you’re rubbing fast with your body arching off the bed.

Your legs shook, your moans turning higher and more desperate, and your cunt squeezing around the glass as you whined, “Fuck- fuck, gonna cum- please, baby, wanna cum for you-” Your voice cracked. Breath breaking into soft, shaky sounds as your fingers rubbing faster. Hips grinding down while the wet sounds growing louder as you fucked yourself harder, and chasing your orgasm with every roll of your hips. Your back arched when it hit and head falling back as you let out a loud broken moan, “Ah- ah- oh fuck-” Your pussy clenched hard that squeeze the toy. Slick dripping down your thighs, and soaking the sheets under you. Body trembling while riding out every wave and your clit pulsing under your fingers before you gasped for breath, letting out soft, “o-oh god- fuck yes,” sounds with every aftershock.

Your thighs finally dropped. Cunt twitching around the glass as you pulled it out, slow and messy. Your folds shining and your breath is heavy, your chest rising and falling as you caught your reflection in the lens. It’s flushed and fucked-out with sweat shining on your skin under the lights. “Thanks for cumming with me, baby,” you say like it’s some kind of closing tagline to a television show with your soft and warm voice. There’s a small smile that pulls out from your lips as you brush the hair out of your face and let out a heavy breath before reaching forward to indicate to him to stop recording. You watch the red dot from the camera blink for the last time before clicking it to shut down.

His face is flushed, and his hair is sticking to his forehead because of the sweat formed there from the tension he felt from watching you. There’s a visible shape of his cock from his jeans and it’s heavy and twitching. He keeps looking away and pretends it’s not there. You’re laid out and sprawled on your bed with thighs slick and shining. The dildo is probably lying somewhere on the sheets, but it’s already forgotten. Your body won’t stop twitching even though you already came hard. Your fingers flex and unflex on the blanket, breaths caught between high little whimpers you try to swallow down, but they keep slipping out, soft breathy sounds that make his eyes close when he thinks you’re not looking.

Your lips part as you try to catch your breath, lashes sticky with tears you didn’t remember crying, heat rolling in your belly, thick and heavy because it’s ovulation week, leaving you aching, pulsing low, your cunt clenching around nothing. “Can you… Pass me the wipes?” You ask him, and your voice sounds so soft like you are singing a lullaby. Clark nods too quickly and reaches fast to the small pack you set up along the essentials for your content and he almost drops it. His hands are bigger than yours, warm when he finally steps closer to the bed, holding the wipes out. But he can’t look at you, can’t look at your cunt, can’t look at the sweat on your chest, and the way your nipples are still hard through the lace that’s half peeled down your shoulders.

Your hand reaches up to take the wipes, but your fingers don’t let go of his wrist. Thumb rubs against it in a slow motion and smears the slick from your hand on his wrist. He stays still, and the room's silence feels too loud except for the shaking breaths and small hitch of his throat. His eyes meet yours. Your pupils are blown, lips parted, and there’s a softness in the way you look at him, like you’re not seeing him as just the guy behind the camera, but as Clark. Clark who’s been your friend since college. Clark who held your hair when you threw up at parties. Clark who carries your heavy ring lights. Clark who never judges you. Even right now when his cock is hard and painfully sitting inside his jeans after filming you cum and fuck yourself with that toy.

He hands tugged his wrist to pull him closer until his knees touch and bump into the edge of the mattress you’re lying on. The other hand reaches his shorts and you feel the way his chest rises and falls faster than he normally would have. You lean up and press your lips against his. It’s soft and you are testing the waters. His breath catches before he kisses you back. His mouth is warm and there’s a quiet grunt that joins the kiss before he pulls a little with his eyes wide. “Wait, fuck, we- this isn’t…” His voice breaks, forehead pressing to yours, eyes squeezed shut, jaw tight like he’s trying to hold himself together. No words came from you at first and you just let your thumb work and stroke on the back of his hand. You feel how much he’s shaking.

Lips brushing against him and it’s barely even a kiss, just a peck. Your hips shift, a small roll upward that makes a needy, high whine slip out before you can swallow it down. “Clark,” you whisper, trembling, soft, almost a plea but not quite. His breath shudders, the tip of his nose brushing yours, and for a moment it looks like he might step back, but you pull him down, pulling him until he’s bending over you, hands braced on either side of your head on the mattress. His feet stay on the floor, jeans tight, pressing against the bed as he leans over you, close enough that you can feel the heat rolling off him, the way his cock presses hard against the seam of his jeans. “Please,” you say, voice cracking, eyes clear and steady, looking right at him.

That’s what breaks him. It’s not because of the begging, not the whole of it. Not just because of the way your pussy can’t stop dripping into the sheets. But it’s because of how you say his name and he knows you mean it. He likes how you sound when you look like you know exactly what you are asking for from him. His mouth crashes into your harder this time. A rough groan exists along while the kiss plays out and his hands find your face to hold it like he’s scared that you will leave him. Your gentle fingers wrap around his hair to pull him even closer if that’s even possible, while your legs shift and knee bump and touch against his hips. The wipes are forgotten and have already fallen to the floor while your back is arching up and the lace shifted in your body, and it’s sticky and hot by the way it clings to your skin.

His lips break away, moving down to your neck, sucking softly, a muffled curse falling against your skin as your thighs press together around his waist. “Shit,” he mutters, voice rough, muffled against your neck. “Fuck, you’re-” You cut him off with another kiss, pulling him in, your hips lifting again as you whine into his mouth, that needy, desperate sound you’ve been trying to hold back since the camera turned off. He’s hovering over you while trembling hard and kissing you like he's been wanting to do this for months since he agreed to be your cameraman. The soft sounds from your mouth mix with the profanities he’s been letting out from his lips. The room is warm and smells like your cunt and cum from earlier and sweat. Your room has probably been waiting for this to happen, and you can feel the tension between the two of you.

You slip your hand under his shirt to tug it upwards and take it off over his head. Clark’s skin feels hot and smooth underneath your hands. Your palms are placed on his chest and stomach while you catch the small, uneven breath he lets out as his eyes look at your hands before you latch your lips again to kiss him. His lips are warm and a little salty. It even trembles enough to show you he’s doing his best to hold it all together. Clark kisses you back, and it’s messy and soft at the same time, as he lets out a quiet groan when your hands trail down towards his belt. You fumbled the buckle and the clink from the metal can be heard in the room while you are opening it.

“Fuck,” he mutters against your mouth with a low breathing that can be felt across your cheek as the button pops open and he drags his zipper down. He doesn’t stop you, doesn’t pull away, just watches with dark, wide eyes as you push his pants down with his boxers in one slow drag, revealing the flushed curve of his cock, heavy and leaking, the tip glistening as it twitches against his lower stomach. He steps out of them, bare now, and cock hanging thick between his thighs. The base dark with the soft trail of hair leading up to his stomach, precum dripping slowly down the side, catching the light as it slips down to his thigh. His hands hover like he doesn’t know where to put them, eyes flickering to your face, waiting, so eager and soft it makes something in your chest ache.

Hand pulling him closer, and one of your hand’s fingers drags along the underside of his cock while he crawls into the bed towards you. The bed is dipping with the added weight, especially underneath his knees while he kneels there. His eyes stare down at you with something you've never seen him give you before. You watch the way his chest rises and falls with shaky breath. You see how his muscles flex under his soft skin and big body. You know how tense he is right now but you also know how careful it looks. It's almost like he’s afraid he will break the fuck out of you. Legs spread and fall open wide for him. The black lace is still in your body, and the red ribbons are still existing and tied at the side. There’s still a slit in the panties to show the folds of your pussy. It’s wet and glistening and puffy. Juicy if you will describe it. He can see the slick runs in your inner thighs that the light catches every time you shift your hips around, and he can’t look away. He just can’t. His lips part before he lets out a small choked sound that is almost similar to a groan.

“Clark.” You call him out softly before pulling him in for another kiss. You catch the way he’s trembling as your tongue slips inside and touches his. You feel how he kisses you like you’re some oxygen he can’t live without. His hands are placed on your waist and slide up your sides. Thumbs brushing the underside curve of your tits through the lace fabric and it’s soft like he’s afraid to press too hard. His lips didn’t stay in one place and traveled from your mouth to your jaw. He leaves soft and open-mouthed kisses there before moving down to your neck and just pausing to press soft pecks in your pulse point and taste the salt on your skin. Breathe heavy and hitches after you arch forward to him and your tits pressing into his chest. The lace touches his skin as you rub against him.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” He whispers with his voice low like he’s almost shy to say it. His lips brushes on the top of your chest and take a few seconds before he lowers. He let his mouth find your nipple through the lace of your bra and suck against it softly. Tongue flickers against the bud until it makes you whimper with your hips rolling up to meet his lower stomach, just the action enough to spread your slick on his skin. Cock drags against your thigh as he moves, also leaving a wet trail on your skin like what you did to him. It’s hot and twitching every time you move and make another sound for him. His lips move to another nipple and sucking it through the fabric, like what he did to the other one, just to make it harder and letting it pop before he moves his mouth lower. Kissing you down from your tits down to your stomach and the warmth of his breath is making you shiver.

“Clark, please,” you breathe out, hips lifting, the red ribbons digging into your skin as the panties shift, exposing more of your cunt, folds wet and glistening, the slit in the fabric opening wider with every roll of your hips. He slides down his hands to your thighs with his thumb brushing through the lace where it hugs your hips. But he didn’t take it off, he didn't even try to pull it down. He likes how it looks at you from the moment you show him what you’ll wear for this session to this moment where he’s staring at your pussy. So focused on the way your slit shines, the way your clit pulsing like a heartbeat, A low profanity slips out of his lips as he shifts closer.

The lace stays on when he leans down, parting the fabric wider with careful fingers, opening you up more under the panties before lowering his mouth, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to your clit, letting his tongue slide out to taste you, hot and wet through the split fabric. Your hips jerk, a high, breathy “Oh- Clark-” breaking from your throat when his tongue drags over your slit, slow, testing, licking up the mess of your slick as it drips down your folds, the lace framing everything while he eats you out, letting out a quiet groan against your cunt.

The panties stay on, black lace tight against your hips, red ribbons shifting as your thighs shake, Clark’s tongue pushing past the open slit, licking you open, the wet sounds loud in the room when he sucks your clit into his mouth, letting it pop out before he goes back down, flicking his tongue against your hole, tasting you, letting out another small, rough groan when you moan for him. “Swear to god, you taste so good,” he mumbles, his lips brushing your clit, his breath hot against your pussy, making your cunt clench, slick dripping out as your hips roll, chasing his mouth, the panties damp with the mess between your thighs.

His tongue keeps working. Letting you grind down on him. Lettting you fuck yourself on his mouth while the lace scratching softly against your inner thighs as he holds your legs open. His thumbs rubbing circles into your skin, and every soft whine and choked gasp you make pulling another groan from him. The air reeks of sex that mixes with the sound of his mouth that latched onto your pussy. Moans blend just right with the slick and wet sounds while your hips begin to stutter and thighs tremble. Voice breaking into a high and needy whine. “Mhffh- Clark- fuck, I’m gonna-”

Clark doesn’t stop, his tongue continues to move and lick you through it. He sucks your clit while your orgasm hits your system and back arches off your bed. Pussy clenching around nothing as slick gushes out. It drips through the slit in your panties onto his mouth and chin. There’s a soft groan vibrating against your clit as he holds you there and lets you ride it out on his tongue. He stays in the same place and doesn’t move right away. Just hovering over you and letting the warmth of his body press close as your chest rises and falls under him. The air is thick and heavy, still full of the scent of sex, with the room being quiet beside the slick of your cunt that shifts slowly as your hips are rolling and seeking him. His lips brush yours. It’s soft, hesitant, tasting like the salt of your sweat and the slick he’d just licked from you. Lips letting out a quiet groan when your tongue meets his and when you pull him deeper into the kiss.

You open your thighs wider for him with the black lace panties that continue to sit and hug your hips. The pretty red ribbons that were tied at the sides and the slit sitting open in the middle. It captures exactly how messy your folds look. It’s glistening, swollen, and still twitching with the highs of your orgasm. The material rubs against your skin while your hips shift and the open seam keeps your cunt breathing. It lets the cool air kiss the slick folds every time you move. Clark’s hand slides down and fingers wrap around the base of his cock. It’s thick and flushed. You can see how the tip is leaking with precum that drips onto your thigh as he nudges forward. He doesn’t push them aside, doesn’t strip them off, just lets the slit part wider as the fat head of his cock drags along your folds, catching on your clit and pulling a soft, broken “mmf p-please-” from your lips when the pressure makes your cunt throb.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, voice low, cracking as he watches the way your pussy splits around him, the dark lace framing where your slick folds swallow the flushed head, strings of wetness catching on the lace, pulling with every twitch of his cock. Clark pressed slowly and carefully. The stretch feels delicious and burning sweet as the thick head of his cock pops inside with your pussy flutters around him. You try to suck him deeper while your hips grind up to meet each push he does. Jaw clenching and groan rattling in his chest with his hands bracing on your sides to hover properly. He is trying to hold himself steady because he might break anytime with the way your cunt is pulling him inch by inch. It made the lace rub against his skin and parts around the base of his cock. “Clark, please-” you beg and your voice is cracking. Hands gripping his arms and nails digging harshly in his skin when he’s bottoming out. The weight of his cock pressing deep, the soft hair at the base brushing your clit, making your hips jerk, a sharp gasp tearing from your throat.

His eyes flutter shut, his forehead dropping to yours, breath shaking as he tries to breathe through the tight, wet heat around his cock. “Hell, you feel so good,” he whispers, lips brushing yours, the words breaking with a soft groan when your cunt clenches around him, squeezing, milking him with the soft, wet pull that makes his hips twitch. “Look at me,” you whisper, pulling his face up, letting your eyes meet his, letting him see how your lips part, how your brows pull together when you clench around him again, letting him see how badly you need it. He pulls back just enough to watch, the dark lace framing where your folds stretch around the thick length of his cock, where slick drips down to his balls, smearing across your inner thighs as he rocks his hips back, the fat head dragging against your walls before he pushes back in, slow, careful, letting you feel every inch.

“Oh- s-shit- Clark-” voice is not steady and breaking in a high and needy sound when your hips lift to meet him. The soft lace of your panties is rubbing against the base of his cock every time he pushes back in. It’s deeper and he lets the stretch burn into you so that fullness will hit that spot that makes your toes curl. He let out a groan that vibrated in his chest while his muscles in his arms flexed as he tried to steady himself. Eyes remain locked and focus on where he fades out when he thrusts in your pussy. But the soft lace frames the shape and how it looks being swallowed by you with the fabric being dark and soaked slick. His hips pull back, slow, dragging the fat length out until just the tip catches at your entrance, your pussy clenching, dripping, before he pushes back in, harder this time, a wet slap echoing in the room.

Your back arches, a broken “Ngh- fuck-” spilling out as your tits press against his chest, the lace of your panties catching on your clit when he thrusts in again, harder, the steady rhythm building as he finds the angle that makes your moans turn into soft, desperate whines. “Shit, you’re so tight- fuck,” he groans, head falling forward, lips brushing your cheek, the words slipping out rough, needy, as he thrusts into you again, the wet sound of your cunt taking him filling the room, mixing with your soft cries, the squeak of the bed, the slap of skin against skin. Every push sends a jolt through your body, the soft lace catching on your folds, the slit parting around the thick stretch of his cock, letting your clit catch on the base every time his hips meet yours, your cunt squeezing around him, pulling him deeper, wetter, each thrust making you gasp, making your legs shake where they wrap around his waist. “Please, please, don’t stop-” you whisper, your voice breaking, your hands pulling him down.

Lips finding his again, and kissing him through the wet. The heavy rhythm of his cock fucking into your cunt. Letting him taste the soft, desperate moans that fall from your mouth. Letting him feel the way you shake under him. Letting him know how badly you need every inch he gives you. His thrusts start to lose rhythm, getting deeper, and harder. The wet sound of your pussy taking him getting louder as slick drips down to the sheets, as your walls flutter and squeeze. You’re chasing the heat building. The second orgasm coiling in your belly as your clit grinds against the soft lace. Every push hitting that spot that makes your eyes roll back, that makes your voice break into a sharp high cry, “Clark- oh, please-” And he keeps going, letting your cunt take him, letting the soft, wet sounds fill the room, letting the lace frame every thrust as his cock sinks in over and over, deep, thick, right where you need it, right until you break for him. He never thought this would happen, not like this, not with you looking up at him, mouth parted, eyes glassy, the soft lace of your panties framing where his cock sinks into your pussy, the slit pulling open with every slow, careful thrust. It’s different from the times he’s watched you from behind the camera, from the times he’s gone home, hard and aching, trying to jerk off in the shower without thinking of you.

He tried to convince himself it was just work, that he was just helping you out, that filming you like this was nothing personal. Now he knows he was lying to himself. He’s lying because he likes the way your cunt feels around him. He likes how it’s warm and wet. He likes how it squeezes him tightly, which makes his thighs twitch every time he pushes an inch inside. He likes how the way your folds look around him when he stretches them with the thick length of his cock. He likes how slicked and soaked you are so it drips down to his balls. He likes how the lace hugs your hips while the slit is open in the middle, like the lace is just there for aesthetics. He likes how it shows every inch he pushes inside of you. “Fuck, I-” His voice breaks when the word lets out of his throat. Everything he wants to say is just stuck in his throat, especially when you clench around him and when your hips roll up to welcome the thrust he's giving you. He’s going crazy with how the way you feel around him. Clark, he’s not a guy with much experience, but he’s also not a virgin either. He maybe fucked one or two women in the past, but that’s it. And it’s been long since the last so he’s holding and gripping your waist like crazy. It’s tight and his fingers dig into your skin as he tries to keep himself from spilling too fast inside your pussy.

He knows how pretty you are, since college, he can see it. Especially your eyes, it’s one of the things he liked the most about you and now you are looking at him like that… Like you need him. Like the need that goes beyond whatever dynamics you two have. That this is just not for the camera. Or because of the tension you are working on right now. Lips look so pretty when they are parted. Brows work so well when they are pulled together. Soft and messy sounds that he used to hear from your mouth when you play with yourself but he’s the reason right now why you sound like that. It gets triggered every time the base of his cock comes into contact with your clit and the lace brushes against it. “You’re so- so fucking pretty like this,” the praises spill out before he can stop them. His voice is low, and it’s basically a whisper at this point. It’s shaky in a way that feels lost because of the way your cunt grips him and how your tits press against his bare chest and scratch him slightly while you move.

Eyes can’t stop looking down at you. It’s like he needs a reality check that this is happening. Maybe he needs you to slap the fuck out of him. He feels enchanted to make him keep watching how his cock sinks into you and how your pussy parts open for him. He swears the slit in the panties got bigger each thrust he’s giving you and it lets him see everything. Every twitch, drip of your slick, and the wet sound it made that filled the room. Sounds that fill the room, mixing with your soft, broken moans. “Can’t believe- shit- can’t believe I’m inside you,” he shakily mutters while his forehead drops to you for a moment just to breathe you in and feel more of you. It fills every part of him, enjoying the feeling before he pulls back halfway just enough to watch it sink down again. Hips keep rolling but it’s slower and deeper this time. It drags the fat head of his cock against your walls just to pull out until his tip is almost out of your entrance and pushes in one back in to bury himself to the hilt.

Your pussy clamps around him, squeezing so tight that it forces a groan out of him, a rough, needy sound that vibrates in his chest, making his arms tense where they cage you in. Your hands grip his biceps, nails digging in, your head falling back against the pillow as you let out a high, breathy cry. “Ngghh- Clark-” The sound of his name like that makes something snap inside him, makes his hips stutter, makes him curse under his breath. He tries to slow down, to keep it gentle, to keep it sweet like you deserve, but the way your cunt pulls him in, the way your slick coats him, makes it impossible to think. “Feels- fuck, you feel so good- so fucking good,” he groans, his voice rough, raw, his hips pressing in deeper, holding there for a moment so he can feel your walls flutter around him, your slick dripping down his balls, the soft lace rubbing against his skin where the panties frame your cunt.

To pull him closer you wrap your legs around his waist. Cunt squeezing around his cock while you grind up to meet his thrust. Your voice sounds so needy when it breaks softly into whimpers that result in him twitching inside of your cunt. “Need it, need you to fuck me-” you moan out and it comes out between sounds while your hips are rolling. Clit touching and catching the base of his cock as the lace shifts, which makes your folds rub against it every time he thrusts in you. The sloppy and wet sound of skin slapping fills the room, which makes his breath hitch and his eyes close shut for a moment to hold things back. He tries, really tries to keep in control but the way you take him? The way you moan for him? It makes him lose it all.

“Shit, you’re gonna- fuck, you’re gonna make me come so fast,” he breathes out, voice cracking as he buries his face in your neck, kissing your skin, letting his lips drag along your jaw, tasting the salt of your sweat, letting your soft sounds fill his ears. Your cunt clenches around him again, a wet, messy pulse that makes him groan, a deep, rough sound that vibrates against your skin as his hips start to move faster, the pace picking up, the bed creaking under you both, the wet sounds of your pussy taking him growing louder.

“Please, Clark, don’t stop-” you gasp, your voice breaking as your nails drag down his back, as your hips roll up to meet every thrust, as your cunt pulls him in deeper, wetter, tighter. He pulls back just enough to look at you, to see the way your mouth falls open, the way your brows pinch together when he hits that spot inside you, the way your tits bounce lightly with every thrust, the lace of your panties framing where his cock sinks in over and over. “Fuck, you’re- shit, you’re so perfect,” he whispers, letting the words fall out as his hips snap forward, deeper, harder, the angle hitting that sweet spot that makes your eyes roll back, that makes your moans turn into soft, broken cries. Your hands grab at his hair, pulling him down, kissing him, messy and hot.

Tongue slides against him and tastes every needy sound he lets out while he’s fucking the shit out of you and gives you everything he can give. The nasty wet sound from his thrusting echoes inside the room and your pussy continues to milk him for every he’s worth. For him, it’s too overwhelming. It’s the heat, bodies being too close, how your eyes stare up to him, how you moan his name, and how you take his cock like it always knows how to take him and belong to him. It almost feels like this was bound to happen and this is where both of you are meant to be. “Fuck, I- fuck, I don’t wanna stop-” he gasps against your lips, his thrusts getting rougher, the pace messy, desperate, the tight heat of your cunt pulling him closer to the edge.

You’re close too, he can feel it, the way your walls flutter around him, the way your hips roll, chasing every thrust, your moans getting higher, needier, softer, your clit catching on the lace with every push, every drag of his cock. And he can’t stop, won’t stop, letting himself fuck you through it, letting you take him, letting the wet, messy sounds of your cunt and the slap of his hips fill the room until there’s nothing else but you, him, and the soft, desperate heat building between you. It happens before he can stop it, the heat building at the base of his spine, the tight clench in his stomach every time your cunt pulls around him, every time you whimper his name, every time your hips roll up to take him deeper.

He tries to hold it, tries to slow down, tries to bury his face in your neck and breathe, but your pussy is so warm, so wet, so perfect around him that he can’t think. “Shit, fuck, I’m-” His hips keep stuttering while his words break off in a groan. He buries himself more, which makes the thick and fat head of his cock pressing against your cervix with the lace of your panties brushing against the base every twitching and every time the thrust and pull. Fingers digging into your waist with his forehead resting into you with heavy breathing and eyes closed. His chest was rising and falling in desperate gasping.

“Should I- fuck- should I pull out?” He asks with a low and shaking voice. He’s so tense and on the edge of finishing and just trying to hold it in and stopping himself from spilling it inside of you. Cock continues to throb, leak, and twitch so hard that his hips keep jerking and pushing forward. It makes your slick drip down to his balls, and it’s so slippery and sticky. Your hands hold onto his shoulder to cling and make him closer to you. Breath warm on his skin as you are about to say something to him. “I’m on the pill,” you inform him with a voice breaking and soft, breathy moan while your pussy clenches tight around his cock. Your words? That’s all he needs.

His eyes immediately open to meet yours. Pupils are blown out as his lips parted open and a choked sound let out from his throat. Hip slamming forward with messy movements while his cock throbs inside your pussy before spilling hot cum to fill you up. The cum goes and spreads deeper as his hips continue to thrust and press it in as far as he can. “Fuck, fuck, fuck-” The same curse falls over and over from his lips. Sound vibrates against your skin when he comes, and it’s flooding inside of your pussy that is already dripping out, even though he's still inside. Your pussy clenched and kept pulling him like you wanted to milk every drop he had for you.

Arms holding you so tight while his body shudders and muscles twitch. It almost looks like he doesn’t want you to disappear and he’s afraid you’ll be gone. His breathing comes in heavy gasps that mixed with your soft sounds and also with the wet and sticky noise of his cock continuing to thrust in slow and deep movements. Riding out the last wave of his orgasm by pushing more of his cum deeper into your cervix. “Fuck, you’re- shit, you’re so good- so fucking good-” He can’t even say the words properly and it spills out between the gasp. His voice is warm and breathless. His eyes glaze as he looks down to where you’re joined. Watching the way your slick and messy folds eat up his buried cock in your pussy and how it wraps around him. He can see the way your clit pulsing against the lace each time he drags his cock.

Cock still hard and twitching inside of you with the warmth of his cum leaking out and smearing across your pussy. It drips down to the sheet, and he doesn’t care; his hand just moves to push your hair out of your face. His thumb caressing your cheek before you caught his eyes searching something in yours with a mix of softness and something that makes your heart tighten. And then it hits you. The stretch, the heat, the way his cock drags against your walls, thick and warm, the way your clit catches on the lace with every small thrust, the way his cum drips out and makes everything slippery, messy, wet.

Your cunt clenches, pulling at him, the need and heat in your stomach twisting tighter with every slow push of his cock, with every soft, shaky breath he lets out. “Clark, don’t stop-” Your voice is a whimper, your hands grabbing at his back, nails digging in, your hips rolling up to meet him, to chase every slow, deep drag, to take every inch of him. He groans roughly while his hips press deeper. It makes cock grind against that spot inside you that makes you tremble. His thumb finds your clit and brushes against it with careful circles to make your walls flutter and tighten. “Come for me, baby,” he encourages you with his voice low and warm as he continues to press his thumb harder.

His cock is dragging slowly, deeply, the tip catching just right inside you. “Fuck, wanna feel you come on my cock.” Hips jerking and pussy clenches around him. There’s a high and breathy moan snatching out of your throat as your orgasm flushes through you in a sharp and hot motion that makes your body arch off the bed. Pussy squeezing him tightly as if you continued to milk him and pull him more inside of you. Cum gushes out, and it instantly mixes with the cum he plunged inside of you. It starts to drip down to the sheets slowly and soaking the lace when your hips stutter while your moans break into whimpering crying. “hnn- mmh- ah-”

Cunt keeps pulsing and clit twitching under his thumb. The pleasure keeps in your system while you ride out your orgasm to meet every slow thrust and small grind of his cock in you. He kisses you again, but it’s messy, and it’s softer than the last time. It’s still enough to swallow your moan, and he just lets you keep moving and fucking yourself on his cock while you come down. Both breathe mixing in the same room, and his tongue brushes against you with his fingers holding your waist, and it tries to ground him and flutter around him and get the last drop of his cum.

Your breath comes in shaky pants when you finally go still, but your cunt is still clenching around his cock every now and then. He pulls back enough to take a look at you with his warm eyes and you can see how his lips are swollen from the kisses you gave him. “Fuck,” he curses out that hangs in the air like it’s sinking into your skin as your breath tries to even out. His cock is still buried inside, twitching lightly every time your cunt clenches, every time you shift under him, the warmth of him making you hum softly as you blink up at him.

Lips curve to form a smile as your hand reaches up to brush back his damp hair away from his forehead. “So… does that mean you won’t charge me for the shoot anymore?” You asked playfully, which made him laugh low and breathless, with his shoulders shaking a little, when he leaned down to give you a quick and messy kiss. “You’re seriously asking that right now?” His words made you grin, and you kept wrapping your legs around his waist so he could stay close to you. The lace of your panties keeps brushing against his hips. “It’s a valid question.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Clark mutters before he laughs softly and his eyes searching yours with the corners crinkling a little bit. “Mm, you like it,” you tease him before you press your lips to his jaw and start peppering the same place with kisses and nose nudging against his skin. Breathing him in while you let your cunt twitch and pulse around him. The squeeze made him let out a ragged and choked groan. “Fuck,” his forehead drops to yours as he breathes out. Hot breath mixing with yours. “Yeah. I do,” he adds and then the quiet enters. You can feel how warm the room is and smell the scent of sex and sweat inside. The soft sound from the air conditioner and both of your breathing fill the space while he holds you and his cock still inside of you. Bodies pressed to each other and this is exactly where you both want to be.

⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀twenty-twenty-five © addie / musingsofheaven.

⠀⠀⠀

2K notes · View notes

josephines-simps-fics · 1 year ago

Text

Two Sides of the Same Coin

(We just know I had to use GIFs from this scene for this one...)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader // Boyfriend x Girlfriend Description: Your boyfriend might come across as innocent and sweet, but with you, he’s a bit more in charge than people would think. You two have just moved in together. You work from home and love when he arrives home from work. You and Spencer also happen to have some insane sexual chemistry. (Content/Warnings below the cut)

Content/Warnings: [18+ MDNI], smut, SoftDom!Spencer with lots of praise, oral sex (female receiving), PIV sex, unprotected sex within an established relationship, reader is a tiny bit of a brat. Names used: Baby, baby girl, good girl, pretty girl, my love Words: 3.5 K

To everyone who knows him, Spencer Reid comes across as a delicate, pure, angelic human being.

“An absolute sweetheart!” “He’s a great kid!” “Smartest guy I know!“

Don’t get me wrong; he definitely is all of those things. But, as his girlfriend, you get to experience the coexisting yet contrasting sides of Dr. Spencer Reid. Who he is in public is quite different from the guy that you get in bed with at night, but you relish in the fact that you get to keep that more hedonistic side of Spencer all to yourself. Both sides make one perfect whole, and you can’t imagine one without the other. He’s kind, loving, and, by all accounts, a hero, but he’s also lustful, passionate, and dominant when he wants to be.

+++

Your boyfriend had barely set foot in the door when you greeted him to inquire about his day. He’s only just hung his coat up and placed his messenger bag on the ground.

“Hey, baby. How was work?”

You and Spencer recently made the (large) jump to move in together. Your place was the larger of the two, and it just made the most sense for him to move into your place.

Exceptional change has always been hard for Spencer. You knew that going from living alone to living with another person, as well as a complete change in his home environment, had the potential to cause a lot of distress for him. You remember how it felt when your parents uprooted your family to move to another state when you were a teenager. You felt disoriented, and your new house didn’t feel like home for a long time.

So far, you’ve loved every bit of living with Spencer, no questions asked, but no matter how much Spencer assures you that he’s completely fine, you’ve found yourself being overly vigilant, just in case he’s suppressing his true feelings.

After slipping his shoes off, he happily reciprocates your usual ‘welcome home’ kiss. Then he softly smiles as he reassures you once again.

“It was good, baby. Everything’s good. This case is going well so far; I live with the love of my life now…,” he trails off. Eyes locked with yours, he brings your hand to his lips and presses a loving kiss to your fingers.

You feel so unworthy of this man so incredibly often. You’ve had your ups and downs and your struggles, and obviously, no relationship is perfect, but over the past few years of dating, you’ve gotten to know each other like the back of your own hands. You’re his, and he’s yours.

Of his own volition, Spencer’s worked a lot on trying to improve his ability to effectively cope with big life changes, and he’s made a lot of progress. In the same way you know that he is doing well and that he doesn’t need your hyper-vigilance with his emotions in this scenario, he knows that you’re overly cautious out of love and out of concern for his feelings. He’d reassure you of something every day for the rest of your lives, though, if it meant you felt more comfortable and secure because of it.

In response to his kissing your hand, you decide to do a mock curtsy, causing him to break out into the cutest giggle you’ve ever heard.

“Why, thank you, my fine prince,” you joke, adding a fake poshness to your voice.

“Well, you are my princess,” he says, leaning back against the front door and gently pulling you into his body for a hug, “and I hope I make you feel like one, because you deserve it.” He kisses your head, and though the conversation and the gestures are innocuous enough, you both can sense the tension building already.

+++

If there’s one thing that you and Spencer definitely have, it’s chemistry. He once confided in you that, before you, he didn’t really believe in the idea of some sort of inherent sexual chemistry between two people. He previously viewed sexual compatibility in an almost formulaic manner: a combination of the compatibility of each party’s sexual preferences and the strength of the relationship.

But, sexually, things with you two were magic from the very beginning. Even now, all these years later, when you two are together, things can become heated extremely quickly.

+++

“You know you treat me like a princess,” you reply quietly, as if someone else might overhear you and decipher the unspoken desire behind your words. It was only for you two to hear.

The air between you becomes thick with need, and you begin slowly kissing down Spencer’s jaw, towards his mouth. He stills while his eyes shut to focus on the sensation. When you finally get to his lips, you don’t kiss him. You ghost your lips over his and wait for him to realize that you’re holding back on him on purpose. He opens his eyes and lets out a ragged, frustrated breath when he does.

“You fucking tease.”

Without either of you moving yet, the game continues. You feign innocence, a tactic that Spencer is all too familiar with, both at work and with you.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“I only just got home. You want to pull this act this early tonight?” he teases.

You swiftly step away, pretending to give up. “You’re right, I should just probably go and— ”

You’re cut off by Spencer pulling you back by your arm before pressing you up against the door, pinning your arms above your head.

You fucking love driving him crazy by being a little bit of a brat. Watching his resolve break while he revels in taming you into submission. You bite your lip and look up at him through your lashes.

“Seems like you’re a bit needier than usual tonight, too, Spence,” you quip.

He presses your hips to the door with his own making you feel his hard bulge against your stomach. “I don’t know. You tell me, baby girl.”

Suddenly, you find yourself wanting to cut the act. You angle your hips up and grind into him to the best of your ability, your breathing becoming more erratic as you do.

With his free hand, he caresses your jaw, searching your face. “Such a pretty, needy girl. So needy for me, right baby?”

You nod and with his hand cradling your head, Spencer engulfs you in a kiss, grinding his own hips into you as he does so. You’re moaning into his mouth, which is just driving him even crazier.

When he pulls away, you’re both panting, in part to catch your breath, but also, because you’re so turned on.

“Can I trust that you’ll behave now, baby girl? Can I take you to bed?”

The desperation and neediness is obvious in your voice, but you don’t even care at this point. You need to let him know that he’s gotten to you. That you’ve folded for him. “God, yes. Please?”

+++

You both need to be needed, just in different ways. Spencer needs to feel a sense of control over you. He needs to know that you’ll submit to him because you need him so bad. Earning that submission is part of the game. He enjoys the strategy of it—calculating your next move while he figures out his own—because once you both beautifully break together, it’s game over for him.

You need to know that Spencer needs you so desperately that he becomes damn near primal about it. It’s such a stark contrast from how he normally is, but in the best, most lascivious way. When he’s that needy for you, you’d do anything to please him and to make him feel good.

+++

Your clothes are strewn about the hallway because on your way to the bedroom, you continued to further tease each other by stripping down as you went. Once you you got your underwear off (and after almost tripping while attempting to do so), you turned your ass towards him five feet behind you. He was in the process of trying to get his pants off.

“Hey, Spence, like what you see?” you teased, wagging your ass for him to see. Spencer kicked his pants the rest of the way off and ran to try and scoop you up into his arms. Fully naked, you escaped his grasp, ran into your room, and hopped onto the bed. Both of you now laughing and out of breath, Spencer stands in the doorway taking in how good you look. The playfulness quickly shifts back to anticipation and lust as he stares at you.

Hand gliding down his stomach, he palms himself through his underwear, the only item of clothing that remains. You bite your lip as your legs spread for him, giving him one of his favorite views. Spencer grows harder in his hand, slowly rocking his hips. He allows himself to be selfish when he knows he’s going to be paying you back in kind very shortly.

You reach between your legs to play with yourself. To tease him in the ways that he’s teasing you.

“No touching, baby,” he commands.

“What!? Nooo,” you whine.

“You said you’d be good if I took you to bed, so behave.”

Your hand snakes its way down between your legs again as you try to put on a bit of a show so that he’ll either let you touch yourself or so he’ll finally come ease the throbbing ache between your legs. “But, this is being good, isn’t it?”

Spencer immediately makes his way over to you, crawls on top of you, and pins your hands back above your head.

This push and pull is killing you, but it’s also what you both are so devilishly good at. At least you got what you wanted.

Spencer attacks your neck while your hands are still above your head. “I’m the only one that’s touching you tonight.”

He's kissing and sucking and driving you even more crazy when he finally gets to the spot just below your ear that's, oh, so sensitive. Your clit is throbbing like crazy for him and you’re moaning at even the slightest touch. He’s finally got you right where he wants you.

He slides down your body and lays on the bed between your legs, placing them over his shoulders. With his big hands gripping your hips, you’re more than ready for him to dive in.

Spencer Reid always goes down on you like a starved man. When he’s going down on you, it’s almost a selfish act for him because of how much it turns him on. You two are an like an echo chamber of horniness. He physically makes you feel good. You feeling good turns him on even more. Him eating you out as if there’s nothing else that would make him happier? Hot. As. Fuck.

He hovers his face over your pussy and as he speaks, his exhalations tingle every nerve ending they come into contact with.

“Baby, fucking look at you. Look at how wet this pussy is for me already, fuck. Do you want my mouth, baby girl? Beg for it.”

You’re so turned on that you’re basically a bumbling, begging mess. His resolve to restrain himself in any capacity won’t last much longer and neither will yours, so you beg and squirm and whimper in an effort to just get him touching you more. You need to depressurize this kettle before you explode.

Still not touching you, Spencer reaches his hand up towards your mouth. With two fingers in front of your mouth, he commands you, “You just need to do one more thing first, baby. You’ve almost earned my mouth. Show me how good you suck, gorgeous.”

You take his two long fingers into your mouth, feverishly bobbing your head as if you were sucking his dick. You moan on his fingers as you work—immensely turned on, but also trying to earn his mouth.

“Fuck, yes, baby. Such a good girl for me.”

Removing his fingers from your mouth, he wastes no time using the wetness to rub your clit. You all but cry at the relief and pleasure mixed together.

Gripping your hips again, he finally makes haste in eating you out. His mouth feels amazing, as always, and the sensations of his mouth alternating between sucking and licking and kissing, has you on cloud nine.

After all this time, he knows exactly how to make you feel good and exactly how to make you cum. He tortured himself enough already by holding back. You keep having to look away because the sight of how ferally he’s eating you out, combined with the sensation, is too much.

But, Spencer knows what he’s doing. Between licks, he spits out, “Eyes on me, pretty girl.”

“FUCK,” you moan—nearly scream—as your body begins to crest up to that peak.

It takes everything in you to keep your eyes from closing. His gorgeous eyes watching you begin to shake has you falling in love all over again.

“Spence,” you moan, “I’m g-getting closer. It feels too good, baby.”

He doesn’t want to break away from your pussy when you’re this close to cumming and possibly ruin your orgasm, so he moans enthusiastically as he works to push you further. He’s a man on a mission. His nails have dug into your hips with his grip holding you to his face and you wish you could keep those nail indents like little tattooed memories of what he can do to you.

“I’m so fucking close, baby. I’m g-gonna cum,” you sputter out.

The sensation of Spencer absolutely devouring you, the gentle burn of his nails dug in to your hips, his moans vibrating your clit, his gorgeous eyes watching you fall apart in his arms. It’s too much for both of you. He’s gently grinding himself against the bed as he works and you breathe in a sharp gasp right before your body lets go.

“Fuck, Spence, I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” you cry, tears beginning to well up as the edges of your vision close in.

Spencer sits up and rips his underwear off as fast as humanly possible. He lines his cock up at your entrance and then slides himself in, bottoming out. You’re still cumming and throbbing, completely in a blissful daze, but as he slides in, everything gets ten times as intense as it had previously been.

His pained moans are the sweetest sound to you right now, his face contorting as the pleasure washes over him. As your orgasm fades, you’re left in a heavenly, sexed-out haze. Your pussy will continue to contract and throb for a little while longer and Spencer is relishing in the sensation of it all as he languidly fucks you, kissing you every few thrusts because he needs to keep showing you how deeply loved you are.

Your body is awash with a storm of various post-orgasm neurotransmitters. “Was I a good girl?” you ask him, tears filling your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. You aren’t at all sad, but you are extremely turned on, extremely emotional, and with each thrust of his cock, you’re thrust further into your post-orgasm daze. Everything is too much, but at the same time, you need him to keep fucking you like this. Spencer’s praise soothes the emotional ache.

“Baby girl, how could you even ask that?” he asks, flustered. His face is flushed with a mix of concern and bliss.

The little power dynamic game you were playing earlier has been over for some time now. You’re both bundles of raw, vulnerable emotion. You love seeing Spencer like this. It’s the most beautiful, connected feeling and if you could just live in this realm of cosmic connection with him forever, you would. You may be slightly out of it, but he’s right there with you, losing it more and more second by second as he nears closer to his own release.

He delivers a hard, deep thrust between each sentence his manages to spit out, still peppering in a passionate kiss here and there. “You’re such a good girl, my love. Look at how good you’re taking me. You’re taking my cock so good. Fuck, baby, you feel like heaven. I’m yours baby. I belong to you. I’m so fucking in love with you.”

When he gets more rambly and whimpery than his usual, you know he’s close.

Catching his gaze and holding it, staring longingly into his beautiful eyes, you give him the final push. “I love you so fucking much. Spence, baby, please. Please, cum inside me.”

With how close he already was, you didn’t have to tell him twice. His orgasm is a mix of “I love you’s”, muttered profanities, moaning, and lots of whimpering.

He looks so fucking beautiful when he cums so you try your hardest to encode it to memory. The view of his face above yours as he fucks you hard and fast. The sounds he makes combined with the sound of his skin slapping against yours and the wetness of each thrust. The smell of him and the sweat on your bodies which laces the room. The sensations. The many, indescribable feelings that course through your body while you make love him.

With his final few thrusts, he lowers himself down closer to you, resting a forearm beside your head. His chest is pressed against yours and you can feel his heart pounding and his labored breaths.

His body involuntarily jerks into you a few more times as he comes down from his high. One lone curl of hair had gotten caught in the beads of sweat on his forehead, so you rake his hair off his face as you pull him down to kiss you. This kiss oozes love and passion. It’s slow—a complete contrast to the frenzied kisses which occurred only moments ago between thrusts.

Spencer pulls out of you and you both lay on your sides facing each other. His hand can’t seem to let yours go. He can’t stop touching you and needs to keep you close even though you both are hot and sweaty and need some fresher air.

“How the fuck are you mine?” he laughs, as if he still can’t figure out why you’d want to be with him. “My perfect girl. The most beautiful girl in the world.”

You blush at his compliments, though, since your face is still flushed, you doubt the blushing is very visible. “My perfect, handsome, intelligent guy.”

Both of you still sweaty and sticky, you curl into his arms and he kisses your forehead. Sobering up more from how dick-drunk you you just were, you can’t help but throw a joke in.

“Plus, now that you let me live with you, I’m going to be much harder to get rid of when I’m annoying you, so you’d better get used to me.”

His chest shakes with a quiet laugh and you look up at his face to see his gorgeous smile.

“Isn’t that why you got me noise-canceling headphones last Christmas? For your impromptu karaoke sessions?”

You gently smack his chest. Both of you are laughing at the inside joke because even though Spencer regularly asks you to sing to him and he loves your voice, you did get pretty drunk once when you had JJ and Garcia over for girl’s night, and your drunk karaoke was apparently… quite the show.

Spencer continues with a sincere reply. “I know you’ve been worried about me and whether this big change in our living situation has been affecting me, but I promise that I’m really happy. I can’t imagine living without you anymore, actually. It’s hard enough to leave you to go in for the day, let alone when I leave for work trips.”

You kiss his perfect, soft lips and he pulls you in for more the first time you try to pull back.

“You know that, like your mom and like the team, it’s my job as your girlfriend to worry about you, right? I know you worry about me, and, baby, I barely leave the house, so, of course, I’ll always be worried about you. I really appreciate you telling me that I don’t need to be worried about this one particular thing, though. I’m so glad that you’re happy living with me because I’m very happy to be living with you, my love.”

“You mean so much to me, baby. I’m so in love with you.”

“I’m literally so fucking in love with you, Spence.” You lovingly give his hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ve been clenching my thighs since you slid out of me, though, so how about we go clean up?”

Spencer hops to his feet, holding a hand out to you, smiling. “My princess,” he offers.

You take his hand and he helps you to your feet. In your fake posh accent from earlier, you reply, “Why, thank you, my fine prince.”

You both giggle at the reference and head into the ensuite bathroom to take a nice, warm shower together.

This is my first ever fic that I've completed and actually published somewhere! If you enjoyed it, I'd really appreciate it if you could let me know! I want to finish the romance book that I've been writing someday, but I realized that I needed some practice actually finishing any of my projects. I decided that writing fics, which I'm already reading anyway, was great practice for this! I'm open to suggestions or (kind) constructive criticism, as well. :)

AO3 | Tumblr | Masterlist

909 notes · View notes