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mystichornystudent · 5 days ago

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Couch Fucked by the Boy Next Door

I stumbled out of the lift, the world spinning slightly, my body warm from the alcohol coursing through my veins. My fingers fumbled with the keys, the ring slipping once, twice, before I finally got the right one into the lock. I shoved the door open lazily, leaving it ajar behind me — even the metal gate was left unlocked.

I barely made it to the couch before collapsing, my white tube top sliding slightly as I fell, exposing a sliver of underboob and my soft stomach. My snug black Calvin Klein shorts clung to my hips, but it was the black fishnet stockings underneath that drew attention — stretched tight over my thighs, framing every inch of skin like lingerie I hadn’t meant to wear out. My platinum-blonde hair fell over my face as I buried myself into the couch cushions, too drunk to care, too tired to move.

Across the hallway, Riaz noticed.

We’d known each other forever — childhood friends, practically siblings in name, but something had shifted with age. There was a quiet tension between us, unspoken but constant. He never said a word, and neither did I. But we both felt it. A charged silence. A dangerous, unsaid craving.

He stood in his doorway, watching me, frozen. My legs curled on the couch, ass barely covered by the shorts, fishnets clinging to my thighs, tattoos visible under the warm indoor light. I looked wrecked. Spent. But soft. So vulnerable. So inviting.

He swallowed hard. Something in him snapped.

Barefoot, silent, he padded across the hallway. The open gate, the unlocked door — it was an invitation. A careless, drunken mistake. But it felt like fate. He stepped inside, standing over me, his shadow long and tense. I didn’t stir — just let out a sleepy little sigh, one arm limp over the edge of the couch.

He knelt beside me.

His hand reached out slowly, brushing his fingertips against the soft skin of my waist where my top had ridden up. I shivered at the contact but didn’t wake. That emboldened him. His lips followed next — grazing the side of my neck, taking in the scent of sweat, perfume, and the trace of alcohol.

“You look so fucking good like this,” he murmured into my skin.

His hands slid down to my hips. He hesitated just a moment… then gripped the waistband of my shorts and peeled them down — slowly, carefully — revealing the full length of the fishnet stockings clinging to my bare legs. My pussy, barely hidden beneath the mesh and my soaked panties, twitched at the rush of cool air. He left the fishnets on.

He leaned over me, pressing his lips to mine — slow, testing. I stirred under him, eyes fluttering open, dazed, unfocused.

“Riaz…?” I slurred, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Shh. It’s me.” His voice was low, soothing. His mouth returned to mine, more forceful this time — and I didn’t pull away. My body responded instinctively, parting my lips for his tongue, my thighs falling open just slightly.

He tugged my panties aside beneath the stretched fishnet fabric, fingers slipping between my folds. I gasped. I was already wet. Soaked. Dripping. From the alcohol? From the touch? Maybe both. My hips lifted into his hand.

“So fucking wet for me… You want this, don’t you?” he whispered, breath hot against my cheek.

I moaned softly in response, biting my lip.

Then I felt him shift — the rustle of clothes, the soft thump of denim hitting the floor. His cock, thick and throbbing, pressed against my entrance. He didn’t bother undressing me further — just shoved forward, slowly but firmly, sinking inside me inch by inch.

My head rolled back as a sharp gasp escaped my lips. “F-fuck…”

“God, you’re tight,” he groaned, grinding deeper until he was buried to the hilt.

He began to thrust, hips rolling as he fucked me on the couch, the fishnets biting faintly into my thighs with every movement. His grip on my hips grew rougher, his mouth trailing hot kisses up my neck.

Then he shifted again — rising onto his knees, grabbing me by both thighs.

In one fluid motion, he flipped me into a new position — folding me onto my back, lifting both of my legs high and wide, his grip locking around the backs of my knees. He pushed them up, pressing them tightly against my chest, nearly folding me in half beneath him.

My ass was lifted slightly off the couch, my knees bent and pinned back, body completely exposed. The fishnet fabric framed my thighs and calves as they stretched under tension, my pussy wide open and helpless under him.

He slammed into me hard.

The angle was brutal. Every thrust hit deeper, pounding up into my core, his cock reaching places I didn’t even know existed. I cried out, arms helpless at my sides, my body jolting with every punishing stroke.

"You like being folded up and fucked like this, huh?" he growled, sweat dripping down his chest as he hovered over me, his hips snapping forward again and again.

"Yes—fuck—Riaz!" I screamed, my voice shattering into moans as my orgasm started to rise. “Don’t stop—don’t you fucking stop—!”

His eyes locked onto mine, raw and intense, and he kept going — faster, harder, the couch groaning beneath us, our bodies slapping together wetly, lewd sounds echoing through the room.

I came hard — convulsing beneath him, helpless in the tight hold, my scream caught in my throat as pleasure tore through me. My legs twitched against his grip, muscles trembling, cunt pulsing around him.

But he didn’t stop.

His rhythm became erratic, messy, desperate — until finally he let out a low, guttural growl and slammed in deep one last time, cock buried to the base, thick spurts of cum flooding my pussy.

We stayed frozen like that for a moment.

Then, slowly, he let my legs fall back down. My body was limp, used, shaking slightly with aftershocks. He leaned down and kissed me again — this time slow. Soft. Tender.

"This... changes everything,” he whispered, his forehead resting against mine.

“I know,” I breathed, a dazed smile spreading across my lips. “I was hoping it would.”

My body was still trembling when he pulled out, a slow slide that left me aching and empty. I lay there, limp on the couch, legs sprawled, lips swollen from his kisses, his cum slowly leaking out of me, soaked into the mesh of my fishnets.

But Riaz wasn’t done.

He sat back, resting against the arm of the couch, his chest rising and falling as he stared at me — and then he spoke, voice still ragged but laced with hunger.

“One more round,” he growled. “Come here.”

I looked at him, dazed. “You’re serious?”

He smirked and tapped his lap. “You’re not gonna tell me you’re done, are you?”

I couldn’t say no. Not when his cock was still hard. Not when I still felt so fucking needy, so full of fire from what he'd just done to me. I climbed onto him slowly, straddling him with my back to his chest.

His hands immediately grabbed my thighs, guiding me into position. He didn’t ease me down gently this time — he slid his cock right back into me, thick and still wet, making me gasp as I was filled again.

Then he moved.

One arm hooked beneath my knees, lifting both of my legs upward and holding them close to my chest. His other arm reached back, curling around my neck, not choking me but holding me locked against his body, bent and helpless — folded in reverse this time, my back pressed to his chest, my ass lifted, my pussy stretched tight and impaled on his cock.

I was in a full nelson — I was perched on his lap, suspended in his grip, held open and up, my legs in the air, my body entirely at his mercy.

And then he slammed into me.

“Oh my God—” I cried, my voice pitching as the air punched from my lungs.

He thrust up from beneath, hips pounding into me like a machine, his grip rock-solid as he bounced me on his cock. My legs kicked slightly, useless in the air, while his grip kept me high and open, taking every merciless stroke.

“You feel that?” he hissed into my ear, his voice hot and dominant. “You love getting wrecked like this, don’t you?”

I moaned, trying to answer, but his cock hit so deep I could only whimper. Each thrust slammed me down onto him — loud, wet slaps of flesh-on-flesh echoing in the room, his cum from the first round mixing with my slick as it dripped between us.

My back arched, shoulders against his chest, his forearm keeping my legs pinned up tight as he used my body like a toy — up and down, again and again, stretching me open, drilling into the deepest parts of me.

“R-Riaz—fuck, you’re gonna make me—” I cried, body quaking.

“I know. I feel you clenching.” He didn’t stop. He only thrust harder, deeper, every motion raw and punishing.

I shattered.

My orgasm hit like lightning — violent, full-body, my scream muffled as he kissed the side of my neck. My body shook, limp in his arms, but he kept fucking me through it, his cock twitching inside me, getting close.

“Take all of it,” he groaned.

And with a final brutal thrust, he pushed deep and stayed there, cock buried, releasing a second hot load inside me, balls tightening as he growled against my skin.

We both stayed like that — tangled, slick with sweat, his arms still wrapped around me, my legs draped over his forearm.

“You’re mine,” he breathed, almost possessive.

And I didn’t argue.

I thought we were done.

My body was twitching, stretched and spent, thighs sticky with his cum, my voice raw from screaming his name. But Riaz wasn’t finished — not even close. He slid out of me slowly, cock still hard, shining with the mess we’d made.

He stared down at me, his hand trailing down my stomach, across the fishnets still stretched around my legs, and he gave a dark, crooked smile.

“You think we’re done?” he whispered.

I barely shook my head, lips parted, chest heaving. “I… can’t even move…”

“Good.” His voice dropped. “You don’t need to.”

Before I could ask what he meant, his arms were under me — one hooked under my thighs, the other gripping my back — and with a sudden surge of strength, he lifted me off the couch. My legs dangled briefly, then he adjusted his hold, locking my thighs around his waist and grabbing underneath my ass to support my weight. My back arched slightly, arms instinctively wrapping around his shoulders for balance.

Then, he stood up fully, holding me in the air, pressed against his chest — my body completely off the ground, suspended.

“R-Riaz…?” I gasped, wide-eyed.

He said nothing — just walked me backward until my back hit the nearest wall with a thud.

And then he thrust upward.

“Oh fuck—!”

He drove his cock deep into me from below, using the wall for leverage as he fucked me mid-air, holding my entire body up with sheer strength and force. My legs quivered around his waist, ankles crossed behind his back, helplessly clinging to him as he pistoned into me like a machine.

My hands clawed at his shoulders, eyes rolling back as each slam lifted me slightly against the wall before gravity pulled me back down his cock again — again, and again, and again.

“You love this,” he grunted, fucking harder. “Being held. Pinned. Filled.”

“Yes—yes, Riaz—don’t stop—fuck me like this—” I cried out, my voice barely holding together.

My head tipped back as the next orgasm built like fire in my stomach. I was weightless, powerless, suspended and used — every thrust bouncing me in his arms, every inch of his cock pressing deeper as he jackhammered upward into me.

“Look at you,” he growled. “My fucking ragdoll.”

I shattered again — hard — back arching, nails digging into his shoulders, cunt clenching desperately around him.

And still, he didn’t stop.

He gritted his teeth, fucking through my climax with frantic thrusts, growling as he neared his own edge. One final, brutal slam buried him deep inside me.

He came hard — his cock pulsing deep in my cunt, hot cum pouring into me, filling me once again as I hung in his arms, body shuddering from the overstimulation.

We collapsed together, finally — his knees buckling as he carried me back to the couch, laying me down gently. My legs slid open, still trembling, dripping with everything he’d left inside me.

He knelt beside me, breath ragged.

“Now,” he smirked. “Now we’re done.”

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