orodaeh

[orodaeh]

L.O.V.E.D. IT!!!! Thank you for this masterpiece<333 Should be studying chemistry but nope this was way better:)

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ⋆˚꩜｡

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩: your vacation is coming to an end but your dad wants you to leave texas with a bang. so he plans to throw a giant lake party, inviting anyone and everyone he knows. including his best friend— joel miller. who you’ve already had the pleasure of meeting once before; but now things were a little awkward and far more complicated than it had been. surrounded by prying eyes, secrets threatening to spill out of the seams— you had to be careful. but when it comes to joel, the man you’ve been dreaming about for days, how careful could you be?

𝐟𝐭. dbf!joel x fem!reader

𝐰𝐜. 16k

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬: smut, mdni, no outbreak!au, plot with p, jesse is reader’s childhood friend, SIGNIFICANT AGE GAP, reader is in their 20s, joel is in his 50s, so much sëxual tension, oräl (m & f receiving), unprotected sëx, p in v sëx, riding joel, forbidden romance if you squint, joel’s pov a couple of times, joel is a yearner, joel is jealous & possessive, mention of alcohol, mention of drinking, mention of swimming/wearing a bathing suit, no use of y/n, joel uses pet names (baby, sweetheart, darling), lil bit of angst if you squint, eventual smut, dirty talk, p//ssy drunk, c//ck & p//ssy worship if you squint, joel has a dad bod (& happy trail)

𝐚/𝐧: this is a continuation fic from THIS post! please read the first part before this one (i’d appreciate it! <3)

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“Are you sure you want to invite…everyone you know?” You ask, folding a beach towel as you speak. 

“Why not? It’s my little girl’s last few days before she leaves! I want the party to be one to be remembered!” Your dad hums, shoving his own bag full of goodies for the lake. 

You manage a smile but shake your head nonetheless. “You’re acting like I’m going to leave forever.” 

Your dad laughs, struggling to zip his over packed bag up. “To me, it sure does feel like forever!” He says with another laugh. “Either way, it’ll be fun! Swimming, good food, and camping one last night before you leave. It’s like you’re still thirteen!” 

“But I’m not thirteen anymore dad. Plus, Mrs. Felton is bringing her famous tuna and pecan salad.” You say exaggeratedly, rolling your eyes. “Which you and I both know…the entire block hates. So that good food you promised…?” You tease, zipping your own bag closed.

You watch as your dad visibly shudders at the mention of the tuna salad, making a fake gagging noise. “Well it’s a good thing your dad knows how to cook or else you’d be stuck with that delicious tuna salad too.” He fires back, hauling his successfully closed bag, and your own finished bag, over his shoulder, heading for the front door. 

You playfully sigh, shaking your head as you follow after him. You grab the massive cooler by the door on your way out, hauling it into the bed of his truck. 

“Plus,” Your dad starts, helping you with one hand to lift the cooler into the bed of his truck. “Joel and Tommy are gonna be there. And I know damn good and well Joel can cook too.” 

You freeze a little at the mention of his name but you manage to quickly gather yourself before your dad notices. One hand planted on the bottom of the cooler and you give it a shove to push it further into the bed. You laugh a little, trying your best not to sound awkward, as you turn around and grab hold of a couple of lawn chairs to add to the back of the truck. 

After that brief moment of summer’s heat getting to the two of you, or so Joel called it, he had left you to shower and clean up; working on your car for a couple of hours. Leaving you to sit in his house like a lost soul; only entertained by your phone and the sound of silence. 

You two did not speak about “it” after he finished working on your car. He simply came into his home, handed you the keys— making sure to avoid touching you at pretty much all costs— before saying goodbye and driving home. 

You two didn’t speak to each other after that day. You had waited, hopeful, for something; anything. Waited for a call or a text, but after the third day of sitting idly with your phone tightly gripped in your fingers, you figured he had planned to never talk to you again. Even though it stung a little, you couldn’t really blame him. It was an impulse, driven by desire and lust to quench a thirst brought on by the heat. 

And you definitely never mentioned that day to your dad either. Would feign that you just ‘simply forgot to tell him’ if it was brought up. 

Although, the mention of his name still makes your heart pound; forcing you to swallow the memories of the two of you…tangled up. There was a time and a place for everything…and standing near your father was not one of those times to get all flustered. 

You shake off the memories clouding your mind. Taking a step back and watching your dad throw in the giant tent he bought two years ago…and never used. 

“I’m surprised they’re coming.” You mumble after your dad closes the tailgate to his truck. 

“Why wouldn’t they?” Your dad asks, leaning against his truck briefly. 

You freeze again. Having meant to wonder inside your head instead of speaking out loud. 

“Hmm,” You sigh, putting your hands on your hips. “Just didn’t think senior citizens liked to swim, that's all.” You finally say, sarcasm dripping in your tone just to cover your ass from the real reason.

Your dad takes the bait. 

He laughs, hearty and full, reaching out to pinch the tip of your nose. “Now you better be nice to your dad or I’m leavin’ ya at the lake with only the tuna salad for lunch and dinner.” 

You yelp at the pinch on your nose, rubbing the sore spot before playfully smacking your dad across the arm. “Better be nice to your daughter or you’ll end up in a nursing home next year.” You tease, shooting him a glare. 

Your dad laughs again, waving you off as he walks back over to the front door to lock up the house. 

You take the time to get up into the passenger side of his truck. Buckling up before you check to make sure you have your essentials. Phone, tucked into the pocket of your linen shorts. You remember putting your wallet and keys into your tote bag so you can ignore the anxiety of forgetting them for now. Everything else you could think of was  packed inside your bag, so now all you had to do was sit back and enjoy the ride; and somehow enjoy being around a man you wanted more than you’ve ever wanted anything else in life. 

But maybe with the amount of people going to be there, thanks to your dad inviting the entire neighborhood and then some, you wouldn’t notice him at all. 

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That was just wishful thinking. 

The second you and your dad showed up to the lakeside, your nerves set in. Every vehicle that pulled up as you helped your dad set up for the day, sent a strike of lightning along your spine. Your heart pounds hard against your ribs and your fingers tremble as you expect to see his truck every time you stopped what you were doing and looked up. 

Every car that pulled up forced you to freeze. Every single time. But then you realize it’s not him, and that you’re not looking at his truck, so you try your hardest to return to normal. 

You do your best to keep yourself busy. As much as you possibly could anyway. Helping your dad prepare for the cookout, setting things up inside the large shelter sitting above the lake’s shore. 

Even with the sticky feeling of jumpiness clinging to you, you managed to say your hellos to those that you knew— and even to the ones you didn’t know. Telling everyone who showed up where they could find refreshments of every kind; water, sweet tea, soda, and beer. Doing your best to be a good host.

You had just settled into your skin once again when he finally showed up. You saw his truck a mile away. Right out of the corner of your eye. Watching as it rumbles down the road, turning your insides as hot as the pavement he steps out onto. 

You swallow hard, choking on the humidity of it all, as you try to ignore him. Turning your attention quickly to whoever was standing closest to you, initiating friendly conversation. 

You didn’t want to see him or how good he looked. And you certainly didn’t want to remember that moment; his lips on yours, or his calloused hands brushing everywhere along your body. You tried your hardest to forget the feeling of him slotted against your core, the taste of his name on your tongue…

But it was no use. 

The thought of it leaves you breathless and fuzzy. Remembering the feeling of him all too well and you blame the summer’s sun for making you damn near hallucinate. 

You hear your dad laughing behind you and you pray inside your mind that he just forgets about you. Just continues to rattle off his stories and not call you over— 

“Hey kid! Come over here for a minute!” Your dad yells over the soft roar of people and the music he had put on. 

Dammit. 

You excuse yourself to whoever you briefly stopped to speak to. Shoving that queasy, anxious feeling in your throat down into your stomach. You turn on your heel to make your way to where your dad stands, right next to the grill— right next to Tommy and Joel. 

The sound of your heart pounding in your chest was almost as loud as the sound of your flip flops echoing with every step you took, drawing closer and closer to the trio. 

“You remember my daughter, huh boys?” Your dad says, loud and proud. His hand pats on your shoulder as he reintroduces you to the Millers. 

“Hiya,” Tommy is the first to speak up, his hand lifting in the air for you to shake. You take his hand welcomingly, shaking it in greeting with a small smile on your face. “Nice to see ya again.” Tommy adds before he takes his hand back. 

You had tried your hardest not to look at him. 

Now it was unavoidable. 

You turn to Joel, who stands about as rigid as you feel. 

And fuck if Joel doesn’t look so damn good, just like you knew he would. He’s wearing a simple gray t-shirt, breathable and light for the summer’s sun, and god was he wearing swim trunks? Did he plan to swim? You can’t help but imagine him standing in the shallow end, water rolling down his bare chest, dark green swim trunks clinging to his thighs, making everything you desire just a little more pronounced and proud. The image of water clinging to his thighs makes you suck in a deep breath and you have to force yourself to remain indifferent as you stand next to your father.

Thank god you had a good poker face.

Tommy finally elbows Joel, knocking him— and yourself— out of the wind that had wrapped around the two of you. 

“Howdy,” Joel says, low and easy. He shifts around the simply wrapped box— a present for you?— and the six pack of beer in his hands, before he manages to stick his hand out for you to shake. 

You can already feel your fingers trembling as you lift your hand to meet his. Your fingers smooth down into his palm and your entire body hums with heat beneath your skin. You do your best not to shudder— or to remember the feel of his calloused hands on your body days ago. 

Thankfully though, before your mind can begin to replay every second of that day, Tommy laughs, patting his brother a little harder than he probably should have. 

“Forgive my older brother. He’s losin’ it.” Tommy hums, emphasizing the word “older” as he speaks about Joel. 

You jump at his voice and snatch your hand back quickly, laughing the interaction off with him. Trying your hardest to keep your heart inside your chest. 

Joel in response rolls his eyes and shakes off his little brother’s hand, taking his hand back down to his side. “You’re one to talk.” Joel gruffly says, elbowing Tommy back.

“C’mon boys, you’re both pretty!” Your dad jokes, laughing loudly as he joins in to the bickering of the brothers. 

Their playful arguing falls onto deaf ears as your mind shifts back to that day. Back to him. You’re close enough that you can smell his cologne again. He’s only an arms length away, maybe less. If it were just the two of you…you’re almost sure you’d reach out to him again. Pull him in as he lifts you up, kissing him like it was meant to be. 

You realize you’ve been staring at him for far too long, when he glances at you. 

Big eyes roam down the length of your body, taking in every revealing bit of skin that shows with the tank-top and pair of shorts you had slipped on over your bathing suit. 

You watch his jaw clench and his lips form a thin line as he stares into your eyes; as if he wants to say something but the laugh of Tommy and your dad echoing in the background, stops him. You two were not alone, and it would be best to remember that. Doesn’t stop the build up of heat bubbling under your skin, threatening to burst with his gaze settling all over your body though.  

Thankfully, out of the corner of your eye, a familiar face is saving you from the desire— or maybe it's embarrassment— threatening to swallow you up. 

“Ahaha,” You laugh awkwardly, a little too loudly, pointing over your shoulder in the direction of said familiar face. “Look! There’s Jesse, I’m gonna go say hi!” 

Your dad waves you off, letting you go without so much as a thought as he continues his chit-chat with his friends.

You flee under Joel’s gaze, rushing to Jesse’s side before you can think about it. 

“Jesse!” You shout, grabbing his arm and dragging him out from beneath the large shaded patio and around the corner of the building, out of sight. 

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Fuck, she looked good. 

Joel had tried his hardest to worm out of not going to the party. He wanted to enjoy time with his friend and his brother at a nice lake party but god knows he wasn’t gonna be able to focus on fuckin’ nothin’ with her around. It was bad enough he hadn’t talked to her since that day, he really tried to…just didn’t know how. Was scared he’d fuck something up…but by now, he surely has anyway. Lord knows he didn’t need anymore help fucking things up. 

But in the end, Tommy had convinced him to show up. Told him it would be all kinds of fun and a good day to take a break from their usual hardworking days; so Joel went, under the guise of just taking it ‘easy’. 

It was anything but easy. 

The second he stepped out of his truck, his skin turned hot to the touch, and not because of the sun. And just when he thinks the shade of the patio will cool him off, he sees you. 

Called over by your father, trotting up with tension only Joel probably notices. 

Fuck, she looked so damn good. 

His eyes travel along your body, that he didn’t want to admit he hadn’t stopped thinking about since that day, staring at any exposed skin that dared to show. You wore shorts and a light tank-top, but all he could think about was getting to see more of your thighs; or the way your tank-top dipped low enough to reveal some cleavage— peeking just over your swimsuit hiding beneath—that he hadn’t gotten a chance to see last time. 

It made his mouth water. 

Licking his lips a little as his eyes flutter while he looks over you. And he really wants to say something; anything. To tell you how pretty you look or to try to and make sense of what happened between the two of you but Tommy’s elbow is digging into his ribs and he’s quickly remembering where the two of you are at. 

He mumbles the softest of greetings, clearing his throat as Tommy teases him about his age. Joel rolls his eyes, remarking how Tommy is in the same damn boat he is, before her dad steps in. 

Joel tunes out most of the banter though, and returns his attention back to that pretty girl standing beside him. He just can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. 

Joel stares again. God, what he wouldn’t give to be alone with you right now. The way you slightly look up at him, your eyes skimming over his lips, he’d devour you right then and there if it was just the two of you. To lift you up into his arms, holding you as close as he could, whispering your name and his apologies like there was no tomorrow; if it meant he got to hear you call his name again. 

He can feel that scorching hum under his skin again, building up more and more, just like it had back in his kitchen a week ago— threatening to snap. 

Joel is pulled out of his…not so innocent thoughts at the sound of Tommy’s voice calling for him. His lips form a thin line as he realizes he’s been staring for too long. 

He licks his chapped lips, slowly blinking, finally gathering the nerve to strike up a friendly conversation with you, to ease into maybe getting you away and alone, but you’re turning away from him. Yelling after a tall, dark haired boy and running off. And before he knows it, you’re gone. Slipping right out of his grasp, leaving him behind. Forcing him to watch you drag…that boy…away, dragging him along awfully close right behind you. 

Jealousy pits in his stomach. Turning that sweet burn you set alight in him into a sour, puff of smoke. 

And he didn’t like that at fucking all.

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Jesse laughs as you yank him around the pillar of the patio; hiding out of sight, out of mind. “Oh hey dude, what’s up?” Jesse playfully hums, stumbling behind you as you jerk him around. 

“Ugh,” You groan, pressing your back against the stone of the patio wall. “So awkward…” You mutter under your breath, rubbing a hand over your face. 

Jesse lifts a dark eyebrow, peeking around the corner from where you had just dragged him from. “Your dad?” He asks. 

“Yeah…” You lie, yanking him back away from the opening of the door. “I just…can’t believe he invited this many people.” 

“This is nothing,” Jesse hums with another light hearted laugh, his arms crossing over his chest. “You were at my graduation. Now that was a party.” 

You roll your eyes, pinching his arm playfully, chuckling alongside your childhood friend. 

You had met Jesse when he and his family moved in two houses down from yours, when you were just five years old; and ever since, the two of you have been really close friends. Lived on the same street your entire childhood, went to the same school, everything— up until you left for further schooling and later your job. 

“C’mon…this is still a little too much. He’s acting like I’m gonna leave forever.” You sigh, glancing in the direction you had just fled from. 

You didn’t tell Jesse about your little…moment with Joel last week. Normally, you would’ve called him and spilled all of the details of what happened. Would’ve talked for hours, since Jesse was into that kind of gossip too, but this wasn’t just gossip. It was something that you needed to dissect alone. 

“I see you met Joel and Tommy too.” Jesse says as he moves to lean against the building beside you. “I’ve worked with Tommy a couple of times, he’s pretty cool.” 

You nod your head a little, picking at the hem of your beach shorts. “And…Joel?” You ask cautiously. Praying you don’t sound too intrigued, didn’t need Jesse’s keen ears picking up on what you were really asking. 

“Met him a few times too. Heard more stories from Tommy ‘bout him than anything. Seems like a good man though.” Jesse answers truthfully; unsuspecting.

You nod again, picking at your shorts a little harder. You didn’t need to hear it from Jesse to know Joel was in fact a good man; you had witnessed it first hand after all. 

Although, you had hoped to hear…juicer  details about Joel instead. Like what was his type? How did he like his coffee? Did he even like coffee? Was he seeing anyone else? You remember him telling you he’s divorced, and that it’s just been him and Sarah ever since but…after what the two of you did, did he not call you because he decided to find someone else? 

Your stomach drops at the thought but it’s quickly swept away— he most likely would’ve shown up with a partner today, if he had a new one, to solidify that he was no longer…thinking about you. 

You still had a chance. 

“You wanna get in the water?“ Jesse offers, cutting through your thoughts. He can clearly tell you’re distracted by something; thank god he can’t tell exactly what you’re distracted by though. 

“Please,” You sigh, nodding your head to his question, pushing yourself up and off the stone wall. “Anything to keep me away from my dad for a little bit.” 

You stumble back into the mouth of the lake shelter, ignoring your dad and…company, as best you can. Quickly, you dig through your bag you had brought and fish out a towel, turning swiftly back to Jesse and joining him in the short walk to the edge of the beach. You shed out of your shorts and tank-top, leaving you in your pretty, black and white bathing suit. 

You wade through the ripples of lakewater, pushing yourself forward until water sits just above your belly button. You groan softly at the coolness of the water, rubbing a hand across the back of your neck. God, this was much needed. After your brief run in with Joel, who easily set every inch of your body on fire, and standing in the Texas sun; the chill of the water was more than welcoming. Helping out your previously flushed body to return to normal, simmering the very bones beneath your skin. 

You and Jesse both take it easy once in the water. He asks you about your school and job, you ask him the same, before you two begin to retell stories from your childhood. That god awful teacher you both shared in seventh grade who almost failed the two of you because you purposely failed your math homework by writing the teacher’s name in every box. Not that you couldn’t pass it, just wanted to piss him off. You remember being grounded for a month. Or the time you and Jesse got into a fight with another group of kids in eighth grade; your dad was proud of you for that one. 

So many stories bounced back and forth before a voice cut through your laughter and happy memories. 

“Y’all wanna share with the class what’s so funny?” Tommy asks from his spot on the beach. His arms are crossed over his chest, his shirt discarded, and he dawns a smirk the size of Texas itself. 

“Nothin’ you’d find funny, old timer.” Jesse replies with a softer laugh, standing up and moving slightly closer to the edge of the shallow end, holding out his hand for Tommy to shake. 

Tommy takes his hand and shakes it, a grin still settled on his face as he lets go, and walks into the water beside Jesse. 

“Well shit, I wasn’t born yesterday kid,” Tommy teases as he stands beside you and Jesse. “Doubt you’ve done anything as bad as I have when I was your age.” He says, far too proudly than he probably should be. 

You chuckle at his words, shrugging slightly as you and Jesse share a glance; before Jesse goes into detail about the time he pranked his senior teacher by leaving dead fish in his yard. 

You don’t mean too, but you’ve tuned out the boy talk again. Just nodding your head as they speak, swapping their own stories, but every word bounces off your thick, inattentive skull. 

Couldn’t help it, not when you knew if Tommy was near…Joel was somewhere close by too. 

“She’s not even listening…” 

You hear the words ever so faintly, echoing in the back of your mind, but before you can fake your way into making it out like you were actually listening, a wave of water splashes against your upper half. Jerking back a little at the water droplets hitting your face, you blink rapidly at the culprit who just splashed you– Jesse.

“Oh it is on, Jesse.” You hiss, knowing his intentions of wanting to start a war. Your hand just dips under the surface to break the water and send a wave crashing at him, but he holds up a hand to stop you in your tracks. 

“We settle this like men. Chicken.” Jesse dares, his eyes narrowed. 

You roll your eyes at his challenge, hand still at the ready to splash him. “We’re not twelve, dude. Who’s gonna lift us up?” 

Tommy claps Jesse’s shoulder, claiming his stake in this game of war. “Might hurt my back a little, but I’ll do it.” Tommy laughs, joking about his back as if he were a grandpa of several years.

You stare at the two men, clearly outnumbered and a little irritated about Tommy, who so easily jumped at the chance to join up with Jesse. “What about me then?” You ask with a sarcastic tone. 

Tommy doesn’t skip a beat. He hooks a thumb over his shoulder, grinning as wide as he can, as he gestures towards the other participant awaiting lakeside. 

Joel. 

Joel stands in the sand at just the edge of where the lake water meets the sandy beach, watching you with a gaze you can’t quite read from your spot in the water. His shirt is still on but now he holds a beer in his hand. Two fingers casually wrap around the bottle's cool neck, but Tommy’s words and your eyes on him has him freezing in his spot…as if he had settled with just watching you mess around. Keeping his distance, but close enough he could continue to yearn for you from afar. 

Joel coughs, trying his best to avoid your eye, embarrassed how Tommy basically just ratted him out. “I dunno Tommy…I’m too old for this shit anymore.”

Tommy and Jesse share a laugh but you barely manage to breathe, staring at Joel as he stays still. 

“You got one thing right,” Tommy hums, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “You’re old!” 

Joel rolls his eyes and you feel your stomach drop at his irritation. 

“C’mon now, grandpa! You promised to have some fun! Now come here and have some damn fun!” Tommy says, motioning for Joel to join them.

Joel remains quiet. His fingers anxiously shift along the beer bottle. You can tell in his mind he’s weighing his options; he could refuse, but then he’d seem like the biggest asshole ever after what happened between you two…or he could join, and fight to keep his thoughts “innocent” while your body was on his once more. 

“If it’s alright with her.” Joel finally says, nodding his head in your direction. 

If you hadn’t been holding your breath before, you were now. 

The thought of him touching your body after everything that has happened in the short time since you both arrived— it made your skin boil in anticipation. You had wanted it so badly, to feel him touch you again, but this time it would be nothing but friendly with the sea of eyes on the two of you. 

But it would be enough. 

You slowly nod back and that’s all it takes. 

Joel sticks his beer upright into the sand, keeping it nestled just enough to stop it from spilling while it’s unattended, then he grabs the hem of his shirt. He tosses the gray cloth into the sand next to his beer before greeting you in the water. 

It was hard taking your eyes off of him. Jesse, while your childhood friend, was still very easy on the eye. Can’t even deny Tommy being just as handsome as well but Joel? Fuck, he was different, in every way. Your heart beat faster around him, body hummed with electricity like you had never felt before. And he certainly was the most attractive man you had ever laid your eyes on. 

He stands tall over you, eyes narrowed down the curve of his pretty nose. The tease of gray in his dark beard shimmers under the Texas sun, along with the curls at the nape of his neck. He looked just as good as the day you met him on the side of the road. Looked even better when those big brown eyes of his were full blown, lusting after you. 

And again, if the two of you had been alone— you would’ve kissed him right then and there, drawing out that lust that you had encountered a week ago.

“You ready?” Joel asks softly. 

You wet your lips before giving him another sure nod. 

Joel smiles reassuringly, sinking just below the water’s surface, holding his hand out for you to use to stabilize yourself as you get up on his shoulders. 

You take it hesitantly, pressing your fingers gently into the curve of his palm before you seat yourself quickly along his shoulders, retrieving your hand. Once seated and okay, Joel lifts you and himself out of the water, returning to stand up and prepare to play the game.  

You run your fingers through his wet hair, under the guise of keeping the soaked tips out of his eyesight. Briefly imagining what it would be like if he just turned his head a little to the side; his lips brushing your inner thighs as they sit snug atop his shoulders. 

A rush of pleasure strikes your core at the thought of him eating you out. Pushing your bathing suit to the side, his tongue dancing against your clit. Would he finger you too? Could he please you with just his tongue? You don’t have time to think of an answer when Jesse is calling your name, ripping you out of your endless thoughts once again. 

“3, 2, 1…go!” Jesse shouts, he and Tommy both lunging forward to take on you and Joel. 

Focusing on the game now, your hands raise to grab ahold of Jesse’s hands as he seeks to throw you off first. You lean back but hold tight to him, and thanks to Joel’s hands settling on your shins, he keeps you from falling. 

You push back against Jesse’s weight, which almost does nothing to move him. Joel helps though, hefting you forward and causing Tommy to stumble back this time. A smile cracks your face as you take the upperhand. 

It doesn’t last long though once Tommy regains his footing. Jesse and you struggle back and forth for several minutes; taking every chance you could get to try and win. You’re putting up a damn good fight, and if Joel wasn’t the one keeping you upright, you’re sure you would’ve lost a long time ago. 

You two made a really good fucking team. 

You pull your elbows in tight, tensing every inch of your muscles and giving Jesse one final pushback. And with that last shove, Tommy’s footing slips beneath him and Jesse goes crashing into the waves below. You laugh, raising your arms up in victory just as Jesse comes up for air. 

“Hell yeah!” You cheer, laughing as Jesse wipes his face and gasps for air after his tumble into the waves. “I’ll always be the Queen when it comes to a game of chicken!” 

Tommy and Joel both chuckle at your victory, even Jesse cracks a small smirk as he admits his defeat. 

You’re too wrapped up in cheering for your win to notice Joel getting just that much closer to the water. And with just a little toss, Joel sends you to meet the ripples of water beneath. 

You’re swallowed up by the lake water, tumbling under the surface briefly as you try to regain your footing— before breaking above the water’s surface. You flail around for a split second, still caught entirely off guard from your betrayal, trying to take in your surroundings. 

When you finally gather your bearings, Tommy and Jesse both laugh from their spots on the sideline. 

“You ass!” You yell in Joel’s direction, wiping your hair out of your eyes. 

“Mmm, hey now,” Joel drawls, lighthearted and warm like the sun. “You kinda deserved it.” He adds, a smile splintering on his own lips. 

Ah, it was a little normal again. 

Joel takes a moment to retrieve his beer, taking a hearty sip from the bottle before wading back out towards you. 

He holds his hand out to you, the simple gesture sending your heart abuzz once again, but instead of accepting it right away, you splash him. Sending water up against his chest and face. He stumbles at the surprise and you take the opportunity to give him a little taste of his own medicine– yanking on his hand and sending him down below the water’s surface while you rise to your feet. 

When Joel returns from his own dip, he stares up at you, spitting out water he likely inhaled in his fall. 

You laugh but the smile forming on his face, canines peeking over the curl of his lip, surely meant trouble for you. 

His hand scoops forward and he sends a wave crashing in your direction but you dodge it, seeing it coming. He’s quick onto his feet for a man his age, chasing after you to get his sought out revenge, another splashing war beginning. 

You flee, wading through the water that comes up to your stomach, stepping off to the side, around Jesse and Tommy in an attempt to stop Joel in his tracks. 

“C’mere sweetheart!” Joel calls, damn near right behind you. 

You glance over your shoulder to see Jesse and Tommy parting, letting Joel sweep between them to get his pay back. He’s close enough now to send another splash against your back, sending chills across your shoulders and down your spine. 

“You guys suck!” You yell at the two bystanders, breaking out in a giggling fit once Joel’s hand grabs hold of your arm and he easily tugs you back towards him. 

He tosses you over his shoulder, hand tightly wrapped around your thigh to keep you from squirming out of his grip. Your hands slide down his damp back, half assed pushing against his skin to try and escape. 

Won’t admit the butterflies dancing around your stomach as he hauls you around like it’s fucking easy to him. 

Joel carries the two of you out a little deeper into the water, attempting to toss you back into the water but you drag him down with you at the last second. 

Both of you sink below the surface, hands grasping at each other to try and keep the other under water even longer. You manage to slip away somehow, rising out of the water and back onto your feet but Joel just continues to chase you. You laugh, soft and sweet, as the two of you playfully mess around. Taking turns in splashing each other or chasing each other around the water. 

It was as if the two of you had never been separated in the first place. As if things were normal, enjoyable, between you both. Truly, as if you were just…better off together. 

You don’t know when it happens, sometime in your struggle to get to the shore probably, but Joel sits against the sand in a more shallow spot; while you sit snugly in his lap. 

He laughs with you, easy and hearty— a true, genuine laugh. A large hand settles on your hip, thumb rubbing into your skin. His gaze is heavy and hot, hotter than the sun, as his warm eyes flick from yours to the plump of your bottom lip. Joel stares at your lips, making it obvious as to what he wants, his own lips still curled up in a smirk. His thumb presses heavy into your skin and you’re suddenly made aware of every touch the two of you share. 

His hand grasping your waist. Your own hands pressed against his chest that once kept you from falling, but now just tenderly brush against him. Could feel his erratic heartbeat beneath your fingers; a little happy that it matched your own wild beating heart. You feel his strong thighs against the back of yours as you sit in his lap. But the most prominent feeling was the tent, slowly growing between your slightly parted thighs, rubbing up into you. 

You shiver at the feeling. This time, the water does nothing to cool you off.

And just as suddenly, the both of you realize what’s going on…what shouldn’t be going on in front of others. The world around the two of you comes crashing down like a giant tsunami. 

You scramble from your seated position, quickly backing up into the depths of the water and back up onto your feet. Joel does the same but in the opposite direction. His eyes are wide and his grip tightens around the beer bottle, most likely full of lake water by now, as he tries his hardest not to look at you. 

After a few, intense heartbeats, he clears his throat. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, turning away from the entire group staring at him. “I’m gonna go get another beer.” Joel mutters, sharp and curt like a knife cutting an object. He doesn’t wait for anyone else to speak before he leaves the water, stepping up the hill without another word. 

And he’s gone before your eyes, disappearing into the patio. 

After a few more agonizingly, hard and  thrashing heartbeats, Tommy clears his throat. You avoid his gaze as he walks past you and out of the water, grabbing Joel’s discarded shirt, and following after his brother. 

“So…older men, huh?” Jesse’s voice cuts through the blood pounding in your ears. 

You jump at his voice. Shaking your head, putting up your hands in an attempt to divert Jesse and his questions. “Jesse, please don’t.”

“Oh please, Shorty,” Jesse says, rolling your childhood nickname off his tongue. “We’re not gonna talk about what just happened?” 

“I’d rather not.” You shakily breathe, running a hand over your damp hair as you make your way to land. You park yourself against the sand, back facing the patio where the brothers had walked off to, feet barely still in the water when Jesse is already at your side the second you sit down. 

He sits briefly in silence next to you, digging his fingers lightly into the sand beside him. He stays quiet, letting it stretch between the two of you; the sound of laughter and the soft crash of lake water filling the gaps. 

“Well,” Jesse finally says after what feels like maybe two minutes of silence; it was all he could give you— he couldn’t wait any longer to know the details. “Figured you’d be into guys…your age.” He teases, his shoulder knocking against yours. 

“Ugh, Jesse,” You whine, hands pressing against your face. You can feel your face flushing a dark red, hot beneath your fingertips. “You’re so nosey.” You grumble. Embarrassed beyond embarrassed under his gaze and questions. 

“After that!? Yeah, I’m gonna be fuckin’ nosey dude!” Jesse laughs in disbelief. As if he can’t really believe that someone he had known for so long and called his best friend, just basically dry humped a man twice her age. 

“So, give me the details.” He adds, knocking his knuckles gently against your knee. 

You groan, lowering your hands into your lap after a second. You anxiously pick at your nails, glancing over at Jesse. “It’s nothing really. Literally it was just a one time thing—“ You start to retell but Jesse interrupts you. 

“One time!?” Jesse barks and you shush him wildly, hitting his bicep to try and keep him from screaming your secrets to the rest of the world.

“Shhh! Shut up!” You shush him again, embarrassment turning the tips of your ears a dark red now. “Oh my god, Jesse! This isn’t public knowledge for the entire fuckin’ neighborhood to know about!” You hiss under your breath so no one around can hear you, just like you hoped they hadn’t heard Jesse. 

Jesse laughs again, his eyes wide as he glances over you and then over his shoulder, surveying the area before returning to the conversation. “Fuck, seriously, what haven’t you been telling me!” Jesse muses with a smirk. “Move to a big city and suddenly you can’t tell your best friend about the man waiting back home for ya and that you’ve been sleeping with him? Shit dude!” Jesse laughs again, shaking his head. 

“Jesse,” You groan, hitting his arm again. “I told you, it’s not like that. It was a one time thing. It happened last week—“

“Last week! God, you hate me don’t you. You don’t wanna tell me nothin’ anymore, huh?” Jesse says in feigned  shock, shaking his head. 

“Ugh.” You sigh, rolling your eyes at the dramatic man. “I don’t hate you. Again, it wasn’t supposed to be a known thing! A one time thing.” You reiterate with a defeated glance towards Jesse, who is still smiling away. 

You watch as Jesse tries his hardest to put together any dots you may have left out. You take the second of quietness to calm yourself, wondering exactly what you could tell him and what you really shouldn’t. 

Jesse beats you to it though. “So…” He starts after the brief silence. “Was he a good fuck?” 

“Jesse!” You shout, flamed cheeks once again as you hit his shoulder. You don’t know how many more times you could yell his name before he stopped asking you the most embarrassing questions known to man. 

“Ok, ok! I’m done!” He laughs, rubbing his arm after that last hit. 

You take his word, ignoring his cheerful gaze, turning to stare out at the ripples of lake water. You don’t really want to continue talking about it but you know Jesse won’t give up until he gets all the details— so you wait for him to keep asking you questions. 

After a moment, he finally speaks up again. “Does he know that it was just a one time thing though? From the looks of it, he’s still waaaaay into you.” Jesse points out, his face turning a little more…sorrowful, as he looks at you; as if he feels bad about your current situation. 

“Huh, could’ve fooled me.” You respond, pressing your fingers into the wet sand. You semi-play with the sand beneath you, sighing heavily as you remember the ghosted feeling you sat with for days. That loneliness that cradled you, the emptiness without him. 

“It really wasn’t planned. Just happened. And then…we didn’t talk. It’s obviously a little complicated.” You croak, kicking at the water splashing around your feet. 

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Fuck. Shit. God dammit. 

He had gotten too carried away. 

The awkwardness between the two of you had faded so quickly, he just couldn’t help it. Falling into a smooth rhythm of laughs, stolen glances, and soft intimate touches; until you were in his lap. 

It just happened. Wasn’t planned at all he just— fuck felt so goddamn comfortable with someone in that way for the first time in so fucking long. 

Like it was…just easy. 

Joel stumbles up into the patio, dodging people and ignoring faces he didn’t know or care about, heading straight for the cooler. He tosses the water filled bottle into the nearby trash can before digging into the cooler for another beer. He’s just fishing another bottle out of the ice and popping off the cap when Tommy is coming up quickly to his side. 

“What the fuck was that?” Tommy retorts, an eyebrow hitched in confusion towards the sky as he stares at his older brother. 

“Nothin’.” Joel responds, lifting the bottle to his lips and taking a heavy chug off the bitter beer. 

A lie that made his heart ache with regret as soon as he spoke. At this point, it definitely wasn’t just nothing to him. Or to her. 

Fuck, he’d rather be shooting whiskey. 

“That didn’t look like nothin’, Joel.” Tommy scoffs under his breath, casting glances over his shoulder to make sure a certain someone’s dad didn’t come over and hear the conversation. 

Joel finishes the beer far too quickly, tossing his trash away and reaching for another he’ll leisurely sip on now that a buzz, not created by you, sets in under his skin. He slams the lid to the cooler shut, turning to face Tommy but he’s unable to truly look his little brother in the eye. “Tommy, don’t. I said it’s nothin’.” Joel grunts, another lie that made his heart ache, stepping to the side to try and go around Tommy. 

“When I told you to have more fun…didn’t expect you to be messin’ around, big brother.” Tommy teases, stepping in front of Joel as he tries to flee. 

Joel rolls his eyes, already sipping on the new beer. He’d need at least 10 more to get any kind of real buzz to deal with Tommy and his prying eye. 

“I’m not messin’ around. It’s just, fuck, I dunno, complicated.” Joel finally huffs, tilting his head down so his eyes settle on the concrete of the patio. “Just drop it, a’right?” 

Tommy laughs, shaking his head as he stares at Joel; who is trying his damn hardest not to be seen. “Alright, alright. Just hope you know what you’re doin’ old man.” Tommy teases, lifting a hand to light heartedly tap Joel on the shoulder. 

Joel shakes his hand off. Annoyed with his little brother but his irritation wouldn’t get to last long when her father was coming over to the both of them. A smile on his face as he stalks up to his friends. 

“Look what the water spit out!” He says, chuckling as he takes in Joel’s soaking wet appearance. “Go for a lil swim? Water alright?” 

Joel nods curtly, responds really only with another good sip off his beer. 

“Oh the water is certainly alright.” Tommy sarcastically rolls, answering for Joel, laughing alongside her father. 

Joel narrows his eyes at his little brother. Knowing that if he was a little younger, and somewhere else, he and Tommy would’ve traded brotherly punches instead of words, for the shit he was pulling. 

“Well enough playin’ around boys, foods ready!” Her dad says, patting both Tommy and Joel on the back briefly before he heads off to fetch the rest of the crew. 

“Keep your mouth shut, Tommy. I’m fuckin’ serious.” Joel curses under his breath at his brother, who simply laughs in his face at his threat. 

“Don’t worry big brother,” Tommy starts, donning a large smile on his face. “My lips are sealed.”  

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Jesse doesn’t say anything after you admit that Joel never bothered to give you the time of day after what happened. He just frowns and actually gives you the moment of silence, letting everything soak in; for you, and him. 

Before he can console you in some type of Jesse fashion, a booming voice cuts between your gossip. 

“Come eat y’all!” Your dad’s voice rings out over the roar of the crowd; calling anyone and everyone back to the patio for food. 

“Let’s go eat.” Jesse hums, standing up and offering you his hand without a second thought. 

You smile a little, accepting his offer and letting him hoist you to your feet once more. You both turn in sync towards the patio for the food your dad calls out for. 

You suddenly realize how hungry you are. If you were in a damn cartoon, you’re sure the smell of food would be carrying you off on a thick fog, straight to the source. 

As you begin to climb the small incline, Jesse leans in close to whisper a final thought about the situation. “From your reaction though…he definitely was good, wasn’t he?” Jesse mumbles under his breath. 

You gasp, preparing to shove Jesse for his statement but he’s already running away, laughing loudly as he goes. He leaves you behind with another flush spreading across your face. But, thankfully, the tension that had taken hold of your shoulders eases, and you remember why he’s your best friend. 

“Asshole!” You shout, laughing as you chase after him. 

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Hours pass by, the feeling of normalcy returning to the air around you. Somewhat, anyway. Joel certainly avoided you after what happened in the water— didn’t need another…incident happening where your father could see and complicate everything just that much more. 

And you did your best to avoid Tommy too, even under his amused, prying gaze across the room. 

On any other day, you’d probably laugh at the sight of Tommy trying his hardest to get Joel to talk to you. Like a mother bird trying to push her children out of the nest to learn to fly and live. But it wasn’t that simple this time. 

After everyone finished eating, you and Jesse helped your dad out before running off to do whatever else was needed. Passing out drinks, ice cream, anything anyone may need before you both ended up, tucked away at a corner table in the patio, playing games. Started off with card games, some puzzles, before you both decided on playing a few board games. 

Your dad had gone off to set up the tent since it was getting late, while you and Jesse stayed behind and shared a couple of drinks and laughs. 

The rest of the evening goes by quickly. Jesse doesn’t ask for any further details about your little run in with Joel, for now. You know that once you leave, he’ll be calling your phone and making you spill before you ever step off the plane. 

After a nice buzz settles in, the moon hanging high up into the night sky, Jesse says goodnight, planning to head to his own tent. 

“Don’t stay up too late now.” Jesse warns sarcastically, smiling as he waves goodbye. 

You roll your eyes before flipping him off as a way of saying your own goodnight, watching as he leaves you in solitary. You clean up any trash left around the table or inside the patio, tossing it in the nearest garbage can. Packing the games up next, shoving them back into your bag before setting it on top of the table for you to grab later. You walk over to one of the openings of the lake shelter, staring out at the moon and the stars hanging above the dark curtain of water.

Deciding that yeah, after the long ass day you’ve just had, you could use some quiet time by the water; especially now that the beach was completely empty. 

You leave behind your belongings and walk to the edge of the lakeside once more, sitting down on a stone ledge somewhere further off to the side, solely so your feet could still touch the water. 

After eating, you had changed out of your swimsuit and into some fresh clothes. So you didn’t plan to go into the water this time, just wanted to let your feet soak for a little while. Without the sun's warmth, the water has turned just a little too chilly for your liking anyway. 

What a day. 

Running into Joel, feeling that energy you both had felt the first time you had met. The hum that draws you to him, like he was a damn magnet. 

You think back on Jesse’s words about Joel and how he clearly still had…some feelings for you. And you almost want to believe it but you’d rather hear it straight from the source. Or experience that feeling of need and want once again. 

“Want some company?” A southern drawl echoes behind you, pulling you from your thoughts of everything that happened today.  

And suddenly your body crawls with a summer’s heat, as if the sun still shines down onto your skin. 

You slightly turn to face the man, glancing over your shoulder in the direction of his voice. And there he stands, the man you couldn’t keep your damn mind off of; Joel. 

He has also changed out of his bathing suit. Now standing in just his simple gray shirt and a pair of jeans. How he always wore jeans in this Texas heat, you don’t know. But you couldn’t imagine him really just wearing shorts either. 

He holds that simple little box you had seen him show up with too. Your gut feeling was right, it must’ve been a gift for you. Maybe it was a parting gift; his last goodbye.

At least he’d look good walking away. 

The moon bathed him in a sweet glow. Making the silver in his hair catch strays of light, glittering in the darkness like he was a star himself. 

You manage to smile at him then. It was just the two of you, and if he finally wanted to talk…you wanted the closure too. So you give him a nod, scooting further along the stone ledge you sit on, making room for him. 

Joel discards the boots he’s wearing, rolling up the bottom half of his jeans too before sitting down next to you. Making sure his jeans don’t get wet but he could also join you in just relaxing in the water. 

Neither of you say anything though. Not for a while anyway. You two just sit there, soaking up the silence and the soft lull of waves while Joel strums his fingers along the top of the box. Debating on whether to give it to you or not.

Joel’s the first to break the built up silence with a clear of his throat. 

“So,” He starts, gruffer than usual. He was trying to steel himself…trying his hardest not to feel too many things. “How are you?” He finally asks. 

Startled by the question, you tear your eyes from the lake to glance at the older man. And you can easily read the nervousness wrinkling his face. It makes you laugh, seeing him fret like it was all too much. Breaking into a fit of giggles as your own anxiety is semi washed away. 

“What?” Joel asks with a worried, confused look. As if he’s second guessing what he said, thinking maybe he said something wrong. 

You laugh just a little bit longer, wiping a few tears from the corners of your eyes, before finally calming down. “Nothing, nothing,” You say, giggling just a little more before sucking in a breath. “It was just…unexpected is all.” 

Joel sighs before giving you a smile, the tension easing out of his shoulders as he relaxes. He managed to chuckle a little with you even. 

“You laugh all pretty like, ya know? Reminds me of wind chimes.” Joel hums, catching your gaze. 

You blush at his compliment. You want to hide your face from his tender gaze but something inside of you keeps your eyes on him; you didn’t want to look away, especially if this was going to be the last time you saw him. 

Joel shifts a little awkwardly as silence threatens to swallow the two of you up again but he didn’t want to allow that to happen. 

“Uh, made you this.” Joel softly says, holding up the box for you to take. 

You eye the box curiously, searching the present and then his face, before you timidly take the item out of your hand. Forcing yourself not to shiver as your fingers brush against his. 

You turn the gift over in your hands, slipping the plain white ribbon off of the container and lifting the lid to examine its contents. 

Inside sits a small wooden bird, barely the size of your palm. You remove it from the nest of newspaper Joel likely shredded to keep it from knocking around inside the box too much, taking a better look at the wooden bird. It was delicate and small. Well made and clearly hand crafted, as if Joel had carved it himself.

“It’s a swallow.” Joel hums, his eyes watching over you. He doesn’t even look at the craft he made, could care less about it. He just wants to look at you. 

“You…made this?” You ask tenderly, eyebrows furrowing as you stare at the craftsmanship. 

Joel nods, his lips a thin smile. He leans forward, rubbing the palm of his hand with his thumb, continuing to stare at you. “Mhm. Had more than a few sleepless nights this past week so I just…made it. Figured you'd like it darlin’.” 

Tears prick up in your eyes, threatening to spill over the second he admits to making the pretty bird for you. You have to force yourself to hold the tears back, nodding just slightly back to him in thanks. You bite down to keep your lip from wobbling as you gently tuck the small swallow back into its nesting box, closing the lid and setting it right beside you. 

After a few seconds of silence, you sigh deeply. The joy of your shared laughter slowly disappears as the tension of anxiety returns. 

“Joel,” You murmur his name, short and sweet, bringing your knees up to your chest. “What are we?” You finally ask. Needing an answer, no matter the outcome. 

Would it hurt if he pushed you away? Oh fuck yeah. It would hurt like hell. And for a long time but you’d eventually get over it. But it wasn’t like you two were together now. There was just…such a strong connection between the two of you, like you had never felt before. Like you were meant to be together. Maybe it was something like love at first sight but no matter; you’d move on, eventually. 

But on the slim chance he made things official…well, you’d be more than happier to give it all a try. No matter if it was “taboo” or not. 

Joel winces at your words. As if he had been trying to avoid the topic for as long as possible. As if he wanted to stay in this little fantasyland with you for just a little longer. 

“Darlin’,” He rasps, reaching out a hand towards you but he stops short on actually touching you. Fingers just hanging into the air, itching to hold you. “You know this is… not a good idea.” 

“I don’t care.” You argue, narrowing your eyes at him. You can feel your brow tilt in irritation. You knew he’d try his hardest to get you to see it “his way” but that didn’t mean you’d just accept it lying down. 

“I know you don’t,” Joel sighs, taking his hand back and wiping it across his face in slight annoyance. He knew this wouldn’t be an easy conversation. “But you should. Whatever this is…I just don’t want to hold you back. No matter how badly I want it sweetheart.”  Joel whispers, soft but firm.

Knowing Joel wants you just as bad as you wanted him— the thought rushes every ounce of blood to your head. You shake your head quickly, turning more of your body to him. “Hold me back, how? From what?” 

“You know how,” Joel says, avoiding your gaze as you stare at him. His resolve would crumble almost immediately if he looked into your eyes right then and there. “I’m older, darlin’. You’re young and pretty. Should be partying and havin’ the time of your damn life. I wouldn’t be able to keep up with ya. Not like that young, tall fella would.” 

You can hear the jealousy dripping in his tone. The sour taste of his words in your own mouth as you repeat them inside your head. 

“Fella? What, who?” You puzzle, racking your brain for names of every man you’ve ever met. One look at his tensed face reveals to you exactly who he means; the man who you had been with the entire day. “Jesse?” You bark out, laughing in disbelief at Joel’s suggestion. 

“Yeah him,” Joel bitterly says, rubbing his thumb a little harder into his palm. “He’d treat you right and I saw the way he talked to you all day long. His energy, jokes, all of it, he’d be better off for ya than I—“

“Joel!” You interrupt in the middle of his ranting, shaking your head at his attempt to set you up with your best friend. “Jesse is already promised. He has a girlfriend he definitely plans on marrying one day. Plus, we’re just friends. And I’ve never seen him more than that.” 

Joel’s jaw clenches as he realizes his jealousy has gotten the better of him. Couldn’t see past his bitterness to think about how maybe the two of you were really just friends. And you think maybe this is it, the moment he finally gives in, but it more or less just takes him further from your grasp. 

“Doesn’t matter. Still too old for ya and you’d be happier with someone younger. You’d forget about me in a month anyway.” Joel dryly chuckles. Lying through his damn teeth. 

And it pisses you off. 

“Ugh!” You groan, pushing yourself up and off the ledge. Sending yourself splashing into the very shallows of the lake water. “Quit treating me like a child who can’t make her own choices! I’m not fuckin’ thirteen!” You shout but only loud enough for just the two of you to hear. 

Joel watches you as you jerk to your feet. His once tense face drops to a more concerned and shocked look. He definitely had not expected this outburst. Figured that you’d both say what needed to be said, then go your separate ways, licking your wounds and moving on. 

“I’m not tryin’—“ Joel starts but you silence him with just a look as you turn to face him fully. 

“I know what you’re doing.” You snap softly, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction.  “And I don’t care. Your age doesn’t matter to me. I can make my own choices and my choice is you. I want you, Joel. And I know you want it too.” 

Joel’s breath catches in his throat at your words; at his name. It throws him completely back against a wall. His entire argument quickly crumbles down to nothing but dust. You watch him worry on his lip in a last ditch effort to keep himself from entirely giving in. 

You take one step towards him, returning from your anger to the softness you usually were. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel it too.” You whisper, fingers trembling, chest quickly beginning to rise and fall, as you take one more step forward. Placing yourself between his parted legs, lifting your hand to press gently against his chest. “That hum beneath your skin. Like we’re meant to be. You can’t deny that.” 

Joel swallows, hard. Hard enough you can see the bob of his Adam’s apple; even as you stand above him now. Your eyes trail along his face, from his eyes to the easing of the wrinkles in his face. The slight twitch of his lips as he tries to find any words to say to get you—

No, himself to change his mind. 

Finally he settles on just three easy words; “Say it again.” He mutters under his breath. His entire body tensing as he sits on edge, waiting in anticipation for you to repeat your confirmation of wanting him. 

You stand firm between his thighs, squaring off your shoulders to give him the visual that you meant business. Your hand skims across his chest, pushing your fingers up and around to the back of his neck. You caress him there gently, thumb brushing along his jaw. 

“I fucking want you, Joel Miller. No one else. Just you.” 

Joel snaps. His resolve shatters the second the words leave your lips. You barely manage to confirm that you in fact, wanted him more than anything, before he rushes up into you. His hands settle heavy on the curve of your ass, pulling your body flush into his as he captures your lips. 

And just like you were really meant to be, you fold into him. Melt into the kiss like it’s the first time, all over again. The grip on his neck brings him just that much closer, pressing his lips into yours even more. 

His tongue presses against your bottom lip and you gasp, shivering at his touch.

God how you missed his taste. 

“Do you know how fuckin’ hard it is,” Joel mumbles against your lips, using his grip on your body to thrust your hips into his own. “To hold back around you? Fuck, can’t think of nothin’ but you.” He admits, slipping his hand just beneath the edge of your shorts. His fingers press into the soft line of your underwear, teasing you as he devours you. 

Your fingers tangle into the curls of his hair lying at the nape of his neck. Panting as he steals your breath away, kissing him with just as much vigor. 

“Fuck baby,” Joel groans, slipping his fingers beneath your underwear, gripping your ass in a tight grip. His tongue presses into yours, rolling in sync with every rut of his hips. “Have no idea what you do to me, do ya? Drive me fuckin’ crazy when you blink those pretty eyes up at me. Want you so bad it hurts.” 

You whine, grinding your body into his, finally breaking for air. He tilts your head to the side with his free hand where his lips don’t stop. Joel scrapes his teeth against the soft of your throat, planting a hot, open mouth kiss against your pulse. 

“Watching you prance around in that damn swimsuit…watching you laugh with another man, shit.” Joel growls, clearly still jealous that you spent the day with Jesse and not him. His hand travels around to the front of your body, fingers pushing fast down into the front of your shorts. His palm lays hot and heavy against your womb, while his fingers slip and circle over your clit. 

“Joel.” You squeak, tugging on his hair to detach him from your neck, and to stop his fingers from advancing further. “We’re still…out in the open.” 

Joel’s eyes flick across every inch of your face, as if he’s giving you the brief moment to change your mind— to flee before things went too far to turn back. But when you don’t move away, Joel nods just a little. He removes his hand from beneath your shorts, trailing his fingers up across the sensitive skin of your stomach before he places his hand on your hip. 

“You sure?” Joel whispers softly, wanting just another small confirmation that this is what you wanted. 

You laugh just a little, moving to grab at his hand on your hip, intertwining your fingers into his and giving him a soft squeeze. 

“More than fucking sure. Do you have any idea what you do to me?” You chuckle a little, bringing his hand up to your lips. You place a kiss to the back of his hand, seeking out the warmth of his skin. 

“Guess I don’t baby.” Joel responds, a smile turning his lips up. His other hand reaches up and pushes some hair back behind your ear, trailing the tips of his fingers down and along your jaw. “I wanna find out though.” 

Joel uses your hand in his to pull you back into him, leaning to capture your lips hastily once again. You share another deep, passionate kiss before Joel breaks it this time. He turns, continuing to hold your hand in a tight and sure grip, like he planned to never let you go again, as he steps up onto the ledge he had been sitting on. 

“C’mon darlin’.” Joel encourages, easily lifting you up and over the lip as well.

Sand under your feet once more, Joel leans down to grab his discarded items and the gift he had made you, before he’s leading you up the hill. He leads you through the patio, where you briefly stop to grab your own items, trying to contain your laughter. Acting like a teenager sneaking off for the first time. 

With your things gathered, Joel continues to lead you to his truck. Entering the small camping/tenting area, where you and Joel silently sneak past the tent he and Tommy had built up earlier. Praying he was dead asleep as Joel opens the back passenger door for you, letting you be the first one to slip into the back of the truck. 

After Joel climbs in after you, he locks the doors. Hoping under the night sky, you two would be less visible to the outside world. If anything, he’d start shoving his clothes into the slightly tinted windows to keep any unwanted attention away. 

As soon as the doors are locked, Joel is grabbing your body and dragging you back to him.  

You smile, biting back a laugh as Joel’s hands return all over your body. He yanks you into his lap, kissing up your neck as your hands settle back onto his shoulders, twirling little bits of his hair. 

“Been wantin’ you so bad.” Joel whispers, nipping at your sensitive skin. His hands run up on the outside of your thighs, shoving the very tips of his fingers up and under the back of your tank-top. He smooths hot hands against your back, flushing your body even closer into his. “I’ve been nothin’ but a fuckin’ ass.” 

Joel leans back just a little to catch your eye, staring up into your face as you sit just a little above him while in his lap. Wanted you to know he was genuine in his feelings. 

“Mm, yeah, kinda.” You agree. A laugh slipping from your lips at the eyeroll you receive from the older man. 

“Let me make it up to ya baby.” Joel states, matter of fact with no room for an argument. He was going to make it up to you, one way or another. His fingers knead gently into your back reassuring that this, that you, were what he wanted. And he didn’t want to lose you. Big brown eyes level up at you. 

You shudder at his words, your grip tightening on his shoulders. “Better keep your word.” You demand. Joel was serious but so were you.  

“Oh I fuckin’ will.” Joel growls, chasing your lips. He kisses you desperately, like he’s never wanted anything so badly before. His tongue presses into yours, one of his hands smoothing around to the front of your body, pushing up against your stomach. He slides his hand up from there, grasping at one of your breasts under your tank-top. 

You moan under his skillful hands. Matching his needy, desperate pace with your own. Kissing him back, you sigh his name, swiping your tongue against his and shivering at the taste. 

His fingers rub and pinch over one of your nipples. He groans from deep within his chest, rolling the nub across the flat of his thumb once more. 

You whine into his mouth, rocking your hips forward into his, begging for attention elsewhere. 

And Joel picks up on it immediately. 

He smiles into your lips. Pressing a few more kisses into you before he pulls away, continuing to keep his hands busy all over your body. 

“Wanna taste that pretty pussy I’ve been dreamin’ about.” Joel groans, slipping his hands out from beneath your shirt and returning them to grope at your ass.  

The confession makes your head spin. 

“You’ve been dreaming about me?” You whisper, lightheaded and heart pounding so hard in your chest you think you might pass out. 

“Fuck,” Joel curses, fingers kneading into your ass once again. He definitely did not mean to admit that but it was too late now. “Every fuckin’ day baby girl. Ever since I got just that little taste of ya…now, I can't get the image of making love to ya outta my damn head. Wakin’ up every mornin’, wishing you were next to me.” 

You whine at his confession, clawing at his shoulders as he lays you onto your back into his leather seats. He splits your thighs easily, filling the space between them with his body. His fingers are working at your shorts, yanking them down to your thighs. You help him just a little bit, shimmying out of your clothes with a lift of your hips. The second they slip off from around your ankles, he tosses them into the floorboard of his truck. Immediately he attaches his lips to your cunt in replace of your shorts. He breathes like lava over your underwear, hot and needy as he threatens to devour you once again. 

He doesn’t even bother taking your underwear off, he just shoves them to the side. Hooking the elastic over his thumb and pulling them as far over as he can. He leans back just a little to get a really good look at you, groaning at the sight. 

“There she is,” Joel softly coos, slipping his other thumb right up against your slowly aching cunt. Wading through the slick beginning to drool because of him. “Fuck, look’atcha. Knew your pussy would be so pretty. You’re always so fuckin’ pretty for me baby.” 

Another whine slips past your lips but you nod frantically to his words. 

You were made for him after all. 

“Wanna hear this pretty pussy callin’ for me, mhm. Wanna hear her purr for me.” Joel chatters, chuckling low and heavy. His tongue replaces his finger, slipping against the folds of your cunt. The groan he releases against your core sends a strike of lightning up your spine. Pleasure crawls over every inch of your body as he begins to quickly lap at your cunt. His tongue drags against your clit, sending another wave of pleasure scorching through your nerves. 

“Mmph fuck Joel!” You cry his name, pushing your fingers through his hair as he begins to eat you out. If you had known that your little day dream of this exact scenario was going to play out tonight, fuck you might’ve asked to meet up with him sooner. 

Joel chuckles, rolling his tongue against your clit once more. “Shh baby,” Joel hums, using two fingers to press between the folds of your cunt. “Can’t be too loud now.” He reminds you and you immediately seal your lips. 

Joel chuckles softly again against your core before he presses a lone finger inside you. Spit and slick alike rolls off his tongue and drips out onto the thick of his finger, using it to open you up and stretch you out for what’s to come. 

You stifle a groan at his thick digit pressing into you. Feeling every inch and bump of his knuckle as he twists his finger as far as he can inside you. He’s slow and deliberate in his movements. Testing out how much you could take briefly before he’s adding a second finger with little warning. 

Then he begins to move faster, pumping his fingers quicker and a little harsher inside of you. Every curl of his fingers mixed with a press of his tongue against your clit, leaves you gasping; like a fish out of water. 

You tremble beneath his touch as a familiar burn begins to throb deep inside your womb. Fuck, you knew he was good with his hands but with just a little bit of teasing, he damn near has you cumming all over his fingers. But god, you didn’t want to cum yet. No, you wanted to share it with him— at the same time. 

“Wait, Joel.” You pant, pressing your thighs tighter against his face while yanking on his hair. “Don’t. Not yet.” You beg, breathless and whiney. 

Joel smirks from his position, curling his fingers inside you while he presses a hot kiss against your clit. “I wanna taste ya darlin’. Wanna taste ya coming all over my tongue.” Joel argues softly in response, pressing his tongue flat against your cunt to prove a point. 

You whine, a shudder wracking your body. Fuck, how could he be so hot all the goddamn time? 

“I know, I know but…” You start, brushing your fingers back through his curls. “Wanna taste you too. Please, Joel. I need it.” Pleading with him before slightly shifting your hips, tenderly rubbing your foot against his thigh; telling him what you wanted without actually saying it. 

Joel connects the dots quickly as to what you want. And now it was his turn to shudder at your words. Normally he’d protest and finish his job before letting you touch him, needed to please you first, but right now— he’s way too fucking horny. He needed all of you, right fucking now. He could worry about pleasing you again in a little bit. 

“Next time.” Joel hums in approval, removing the fingers he had buried deep inside of you but continuing to place kisses everywhere he can reach. His lips skim across your inner thigh one last time before he pulls your underwear back into place, smoothing a few fingers against your panties to thoroughly soak them with his spit and your slick; turns him on knowing how wet you were for him. 

Only him. No one else. 

Joel crawls his way up to you first. His gaze is hungry as he looks at you, one hand sliding up the side of your body until he caresses your jaw in one big hand. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, ya know that sweetheart?” Joel sweetly says, pressing his lips into yours. 

You laugh against his lips, rolling your eyes when the two of you part. Hands pressing into his shoulder as you roll him onto the back seats now, trading places with the older man— straddling his waist. You place one kiss against his lips before trailing down to his jaw, leaving quick pecks across his tanned skin, slipping your fingers under his t-shirt and pushing it up his chest. 

You place a kiss against the middle of his chest. “Take it off. You won’t be needing it anymore.” You tease, smirking against his body as you sink further down. 

Joel shifts to sit up some more, hands grabbing the collar of his t-shirt and giving it a swift yank, stripping himself while you work on the buckle at his jeans. Fingers nimbly work at his button, swiftly undoing the front and sliding his pants down. 

You slide into the floorboard of the backseat, knees settling on top of his now discarded shirt and your shorts. 

Joel helps you, sitting fully up, swinging his legs to either side of your body and shimming out of his jeans. You drop the fabric beside you, placing your hands against his strong thighs and you can’t help it when your mouth waters instantly at the sight before you. 

Joel’s glistening chest from the built up sweat. The salt and pepper body hair dashing along his forearms, chest, legs, and stomach. The softness of his tummy hides the well toned muscle you knew he had and the thought sends lightning straight to your core. 

But what your eyes focus on the most, is that damned happy trail of his leading straight to what you’ve been wanting for so long. The tent under his boxers, standing tall and proud; because of you. 

You bite down on your bottom lip, pressing your hands heavy on the inside of his thighs. “Fuck, Joel…” You whine, smoothing your hands up and across the thickness in his underwear. 

Joel groans at your touch, hips slightly jerking as he seeks more and more from you. Slowly, your hands move across the length of his shaft, jerking him off leisurely; enjoying every breathless hitch and groan from Joel. 

“Don’t tease me too much now, darlin’.” Joel mutters finally, pleading under his breath. His body tenses when your fingers brush across his soaked tip, the sigh of your name leaving his lips. 

You chuckle but do as he asks. Trailing your fingers up to the elastic of his waistband and giving his underwear a tug. 

Seeing him up close and personal this time was…a little nerve wracking. Of course you had seen him last time, when it was just the two of you in his kitchen. But your face wasn’t anywhere near his swollen tip. You had felt it, jerking him off, but now seeing his size and girth…it looked even bigger than last time. 

The angry red of his sensitive tip, the veins that lie underneath; twisting up the curve of his cock like a path leading right to where you want to taste him the most.

You tentatively wrap your fingers around the base of his shaft, giving him a slow, testing stroke. Shivering at the soft groan that Joel utters. 

“Tell me what you were dreaming about. I wanna hear everything.” You whisper, kissing up from his knee towards his aching cock. Stroking him slowly along the curve of his shaft, leaning forward to place a kiss against the flush of his head. “Did you dream about this?” You teasingly ask, pressing another hot kiss against the slit. 

Joel moans your name, his fingers reaching for any hair that may distract you from your task, holding it back and away to help you stay focused. His gaze sticks to you like glue— he wasn’t missing a single second of you tasting him. His pupils are dilated, almost fully blown and taking up every inch of his pretty brown irises. Eyes so full of lust and desire that it makes your cunt throb under his watchful eye. 

“Yeah…I sure as hell did,” Joel rasps. His fingers tenderly tangled into the hair he had gathered up. 

You drag the flat of your tongue against his sensitive head. Licking straight up the slit of his tip, tasting the sweet and salty of his precum. You half smile up at him, gradually stroking your hand from the base to meet your lips pressing into his tip; encouraging him to continue. 

Joel groans, warm and deep from within his chest, his hips shifting slightly to try and reach more of your mouth. “Dreamed of you in that lil pretty dress you wore last time, suckin’ me off just like this. Knelt between my thighs, taking every fuckin’ inch.” Joel grunts, hips jerking again as he replays his dirty little fantasies. 

“Fuck Joel,” You huff, half laughing-half amazed he was actually admitting to what he had been imagining. “Tell me more.” You whisper, lips brushing against his skin with every word you say. You give him just a second before your mouth envelopes him. Slipping the head of his cock between your lips and sinking down as far as you could go before the burn of your jaw set in. 

Which, really wasn’t too much. He was fucking big afterall. 

A string of curses tumble from Joel’s lips and his hand in your hair tightens as you sweep his cock into your mouth. His eyebrows tilt hard as he tries his best to ground himself; to keep him from thrusting the rest of the way in between your lips. 

“Christ! Dreamed of that sweet pussy of yours. Makin’ it fuckin’ mine. Fillin’ ya fuckin’ full.“ Joel rambles, following his words up with a deep, dark moan. 

You shiver again at his words, thighs pressing harder together. If your panties weren’t ruined before, they sure fucking were now. The way your cunt throbbed with every word he spoke, you could feel yourself drooling into your underwear. 

You force yourself further down along his shaft, sucking in every bit of spit and his slick that you could, using it to help you along his stiff cock. 

You moan and it forces Joel’s hips to jerk forward. Watching his eyes flutter as the wetness wraps around every inch he so badly craves. 

Once you’ve finally swallowed him clear down to the base, nose flush against his abdomen, blinking away any tears his big cock has ripped from your eyes, Joel can feel the back of your throat and it drives him crazy. White stars blink across his vision. It was even better than he could have ever imagined. 

“Fuck baby girl,” Joel groans, needy and desperate. His hips stutter, hitting deeper into your throat, curses falling off his tongue. “You have no idea how badly I wanna fuck ya. Jerkin’ off every night since I barely touched you that day. You drive me crazy.” 

You moan around the thick of his shaft, your hand immediately shooting between your thighs. Couldn’t hold back anymore. Pressing your fingers into your own cunt, slipping them across the main wetness of your underwear, pressing heavier against your clit. 

Joel’s hips jerk in shallow, unpredictable thrusts. He fills every inch of your mouth, leaving only room for your tongue and nothing else. 

“Had me fuckin’ my own damn hand, ya know that? An old fuck like me, dreamin’ about that pussy like it’s my first damn time.” Joel chuckles, lifting his hips a little faster. Thrusting every inch harsher into your accepting mouth. 

His words have your fingers moving faster. You slip your hand beneath the elastic of your underwear, pressing harshly into your clit, crying around his shaft. You’re quick to slip two fingers immediately inside your soaked cunt, clenching hard around your own fingers. 

That familiar burn is settling low inside your stomach once again so you keep your fingers moving slowly, no matter how badly you wanted to make yourself hit that high— you wanted Joel to fuck you into it even more. 

Joel can see you riding your own fingers between every lift of his hips and bob of your head; and he laughs at the sight of you touching yourself. 

“S’my baby girl gettin’ too needy, hmm?” He asks in a teasing tone, making sure to accentuate his southern accent as he calls out to you. 

You glance up at him, catching his eye as your head falls to meet every rise of his hips. You only manage to respond with a whine. Blinking up at him, pleading with him for more. 

Joel bites down on his bottom lip, groaning at the sensation wrapping entirely around his shaft. He was getting close too…and he fucking wanted more than just your mouth too. 

“C’mere darlin’.” Joel hums, gently coaxing you up and off his thoroughly soaked cock. 

You follow his lead, detaching your mouth from his body. His thumb tenderly brushes against your puffy and abused lips, having taken an onslaught of his thrusts and wrapped tightly around every vein and inch of his girth so seamlessly. 

“Did such a good job for me baby.” Joel praises, guiding you up from your seated position to him once again. He leads your lips onto his, kissing you a little more gently than before; but not in the slightest less passionate or hot. 

You crawl into his lap again, deepening the kiss, feeling up his bare chest as you straddle his waist. 

His hands dance light across your thighs, pressing heavier into your body once he reaches your ass. He kneads into your ass, rolling your hips forward to grind you into his proud cock. You gasp against his lips, tasting his tongue in yours briefly, before his teeth gently nip at your bottom lip. 

“Sweetheart…” Joel sighs, his fingers flexing across your ass before his warm hands slide beneath your panties, just a little. “Can’t wait any longer.” 

Your breath hitches at his words but you nod quickly in response. You couldn’t wait any longer either. Had your own dreams of finally connecting entirely with him that you damn sure we’re gonna have come true tonight.  

You stand as tall as you can inside his truck, keeping your eyes directly on his own, while your fingers move around the length of the elastic of your panties. 

Joel stops your hands though, rubbing slow circles into your skin briefly before he replaces your hands with his own. 

“Take your shirt off too darlin’.” Joel orders, his big eyes staring up at you from his seated position still. His fingers lightly dance along the hem of your underwear, teasing you for what’s to come. 

Under his watchful eye, your fingers move to the edge of your tank-top, giving the fabric a quick tug and slipping it from your body. You toss the shirt into the ever growing pile of clothes on the floorboard. Can’t help but shiver once again at his piercing gaze.  Skin highly sensitive and burning fucking hot as he looks at you like you’re the only goddamn thing in the entire world to exist. His eyes travel over your exposed chest, lips twitching and jaw clenched as he gets a close up look at what he didn’t get to see last time. Drags his eyes across every curve and inch of your exposed body. 

“This still alright?” Joel asks softly, reassuringly smoothing his fingers into your skin. His gaze once more lifts to look into your eyes. 

“Fuck, it’s more than okay. I need you, Joel.” You respond with a small chuckle, raising your hands to settle around his neck; secure and snug. A small gesture to reassure him this time. 

And it works wonders. 

Joel keeps his gaze locked with your own as he drags your underwear down, inch by inch. His fingernails skim across your thighs as he works you out of your panties. 

Joel tosses your panties to the side the second you step out of them. Allowing his gaze to briefly look at the soaking wet pussy that calls to him. Eyes fluttering as he stares at the dripping mess that he’s created between your thighs. 

Fuck. He should’ve done this sooner.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful, baby.” Joel whispers as he drags you back into him. He kisses you again, hungrier than before now that he’s gotten to see all of you. 

You slip back into his lap again, your knees settle into the seats he sits on, kissing him back just as desperately. You grind your pussy flat and deliberately against his cock. Swallowing the groan that slips past Joel’s lips. The tip of his sensitive head easily slips through your drenched seam without an ounce of resistance. Yet you know, no matter, he was going to be a tight fit inside of you. 

You break the kiss this time, panting heavy and hot in sync with Joel’s own rapid breathing. 

“Christ,” Joel gasps, his eyes fluttering, hips rocking forward as he seeks your core once more. Your name tumbles from his lips as you bump your cunt down onto his sensitive head again. “C’mon sweet girl, don’t fuckin’ tease.” Joel warns. He moves one large hand to grip your waist while the other wraps around the base of his weeping cock. He holds himself steady, barely swiping his head through your folds, before lining himself up. 

You swallow hard, fingertips digging into the meat of his shoulders. You angle your hips just right, before lowering yourself down upon him. Your core swallows just the tip of his head and stars dangle across your vision, just like that day in his kitchen. Your thighs tremble but you manage to take more of him, slipping him further inside than just the tip this time. No force on this damned earth would stop you from finally feeling every inch of him. 

“Shit, knew I should’ve dragged you away earlier,” Joel groans as your pussy swallows him a little at a time. His fingers on your hips tighten as you take him. “Should’ve fucked you the second I saw you.” 

Your bottom lip wobbles at his confession. The fleeting feeling of happiness aches in your heart, knowing he has wanted you the entire time too. That you weren’t alone in your feelings for him. 

“Knew your pretty pussy would take me so fuckin’ well.” Joel drawls, hot and dripping with lust. His eyes are locked on where he slowly disappears inside of you.

You whine, high and needy, bracing yourself on his shoulders as you hit the halfway point. You’re unsure how you’ll take all of him when you’re already feeling this fucking full. Every inch, deep inside of you, throbs against your aching walls but fuck if he doesn’t fit so snuggling inside. Leaving no space left for anything else; just him. 

You were already his, long before you met. You were made for him. 

“Joel.” You moan his name, like it was only yours to be said. 

“Shh, I know. Almost there, baby girl. Doin’ so fuckin’ good.” Joel whispers. Encouraging you to keep going and how could you not? You’d do anything he asked of you, especially here at this moment. 

Biting down on your bottom lip, you jerk your body harshly, forcing yourself to take the rest of what you’ve been dreaming about. Swallowing him entirely and he sits so deep inside you swear you can feel him twitching against your womb. 

He bottoms out inside of you and it knocks any air from your lungs. Your chest tightens with just how deep he sits inside, unmoving. 

“S’tight. So tight for me baby.” Joel growls, eyes fluttering at the pressure wrapping around him. His hands tightly grip onto your waist. He sinks a little further down into the seat, angling his hips and planting his feet firm against the floorboards. He doesn’t wait for you to fully adjust before he begins to move. He lifts you up slightly before pressing his hips forward to meet between the gaps. 

A cry slips past your lips before you can swallow it back. Mindlessly rolling your hips to meet his erratic thrusts. Grinding your cunt back onto the thick of his shaft. And it’s all so overwhelming your mouth hangs open. A string of curses, pathetic whines, and Joel’s name slips continuously from your lips. You can’t think of a single thought outside of him and how good it feels to finally have him. 

“Pretty girl,” Joel moans, his pace picking up, grip tight enough to leave bruises on your hips. “Feel so good. Feel so fuckin’ perfect. Made for me.” Joel speaks your thoughts into existence and all you can do is helplessly nod to what he confirms. 

He picks up the pace once again, rocking into you while you roll right back into him. One of your hands flies to press into the back window to keep your head from knocking into it. The glass is fogged and slick beneath your fingers, from the two of you breathing so heavily and the humidity of your bodies connecting together. Praying that no one could see your exposed upper half through the window. Hoping that the cover of night tucked the two of you away as you had sex. 

You wanted to savor this moment with just him. 

The lewd noises that Joel manages to draw from every inch of your cunt normally would leave you embarrassed. The sloppy wet of your seam as he pounds into it— now it makes you proud. Knowing you had him damn near drooling over you and you alone. Driving him crazy, just as much as he does you. 

You chuckle a little, running your hand along his jaw and tilting his eyes up to look into yours. Forcing him to focus on you and nothing else.

“Can ya feel whatcha do to me Joel?” You half sob, smiling as much as you can through the pleasure melting your entire body. You feel his hips stutter at your words and the sudden eye contact but he never slows in his pace. You clench around him, savouring the way Joel’s face twists in pleasure, thrusting yourself down onto him. “Feel how deep you sit inside me?” You hum, brushing your thumb across his bottom lip this time. 

“I feel it,” Joel sucks in a sharp breath, pressing his lips a little firmer into the pad of your finger. “Feel how fuckin’ good you take every inch of me baby.”  He groans heavily, trailing his fingers from your waist to the front of your body. His thumb brushes against your clit. Rubbing tight and taut circles against the sensitive nub to pull you closer to the edge. 

You whimper at the new stimulation, hand falling down to grip the backseat behind him— as that familiar burn etches itself inside your womb. Twisting a hot knife, begging for you to spill over the edge. You lean down, kissing him desperately as the cusp of your orgasm roars closer and closer. 

“Can I?” Joel rasps breathlessly. His thumb pressing harsher against your clit. His hips lift in shallow, erratic thrusts as his own high begins to crawl over him. 

You nod frantically. Brushing your lips against his. “Please.” You beg, clenching again around his cock. “Make me yours Joel.” 

Joel curses under his breath. Chasing after your lips to kiss you. Relentlessly his hips snap upwards, digging deeper into you while his thumb brushes faster against your clit. 

“I’m coming. Coming, fuck, Joel!” You weep against his lips but he swallows any and all excess noise; as your orgasm hits you like a train. All the air in your lungs is knocked out with the overstimulating high that strikes through you. Your hips jerk wildly, uncoordinated, as you ride your orgasm out along his shaft. You don’t have to see the mess you’ve made across his lap. Can feel your pussy drooling, dripping and gushing with every deep thrust he continues to press into you. 

“Fuck baby!” Joel hisses against your lips. He heaves a hefty groan as he keeps going to reach his own end. “Feel that good? Makin’ a mess all over me, fuck. You’re so beautiful. So fuckin’ perfect.” He babbles. 

You shyly whimper, nodding your head in response, unable to find words to speak as the pleasure burns so hot under your skin. 

“Gonna fill your pretty little pussy full now.” He promises, mumbling against your lips like a prayer he only wants you to hear.

And he does as he promises. He buries himself deep inside you, pressing harshly against what you swear is your womb, hitting his own orgasm that sends ripples of lava through his body. 

“You’re mine, ya hear? Mine, baby girl. All fuckin’ mine.” He mutters quickly at the first wave of his climax. The second roll of his hips, Joel seals his lips tightly against yours. Silencing his own erratic groans and grunts as he cums. 

He fucks every drop inside of you. Fills every inch of your trembling cunt with his mark. And he doesn’t stop moving until he’s finally spent. 

After he stops moving, your body finally gives in. You lay limp against his chest, head cradled against his shoulder. Your hearts connected, pounding in sync, both of you trying to catch your breath after finishing. 

Joel detaches his hands from around your waist, skimming his large, warm hands slowly up and across your bare back. He soothingly rubs your back, kissing the crown of your head. 

“Let me see ya baby girl.” Joel hums finally, after both of you have somewhat settled down. That hum, still tingling beneath your skin. 

You groan but push up off his chest. Scooting back onto his knees and leaning back, slipping his softening cock out of your cunt. Can’t help but whine at the emptiness and lack of being filled as Joel leaves you. 

You lean back just enough to give him a nice view of what he’s turned your pussy into; a glistening, ruined, overstuffed mess. 

“Fuck…” Joel groans at seeing his mark dribble out of you. His cock twitching to life once more as his thumb brushes against the curve of your dirtied cunt. 

In one swift motion, Joel has you pinned down onto your back, hovering above you with his cock yearning for you once more. 

You blink up at him, confused as to what he had planned while you and your back lie against the back seat of his truck. Your hips were already sore, you didn’t know how much more you could take. 

But that little dark glint to his warm gaze told you…you definitely were taking a little more. 

“I did promise that next time,” Joel hums sweetly and softly, smirking up above you. “You ain’t gonna be able to walk.” 

You bark out a laugh at the call back, biting down on your bottom lip as a smile splits across your mouth. You reach up, tenderly holding onto the back of his neck while you lock your legs around his waist, dragging him closer down to you.

“Well, come on old man.” You tease. “I’m yours anyway.” 

Joel smirks right back down at you. Accepting the challenge with a hot and heavy kiss. You both were definitely in for a long night. 

But he was yours; and you were his.

@ 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐙𝐄𝐕𝐑𝐑𝐀 | 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖/𝐎 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈��𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

@lowrisemiller | @chateaujoon

[orodaeh]

oh shit caught redhanded

[orodaeh]

All time favourite!!!! ❤️😘

snowbound | dbf!j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | updates blog | ao3 mirror pairing: dbf!joel miller x f!reader summary: [no outbreak] joel is the only guy you know with four wheel drive in the rarely-snowy state of texas, so it seems like a no-brainer to have him pick you up from work — until his truck breaks down, leaving you two to the classic 'huddle for warmth' solution. warnings: (18+ mdni) dbf!joel, age gap (assumed 20s/40s), reader borrows joel's coat, but does not wear it and uses it as a blanket, self-indulgent humor & banter, joel has sarah and she's a 15y/o menace which means liberties are taken with the timeline, blink & miss it drug mention, close proximity, unprotected piv sex, vaginal fingering, (mocking) dirty talk & dirty talk alluding to anal but no actual anal, daddy kink, degradation, dom!joel, brat!reader, brat tamer!joel, mild bondage (with a scarf), rearview mirror sex, clit stim, riding, doggy, a few pussy spanks, 2 spanks, truck sex, sort of edging, getting caught after the act [no use of y/n] word count: 12.3k a/n: this fic was a labor of love from a request i received earlier this month. i didn't expect it to be this long but i really enjoyed these two! massive massive massive shoutout to talia, @lovesickonmybed, for putting up with me + advising. this fic was way too much to handle on my own. they're the reason i pulled it off. joel is latino here, but i think game!joel can be interpreted as latino too, so read who you'd like.

“Looking ahead for our chances at wintry precipitation tonight – measurable snow, freezing rain, or sleet. It’s hard to get snow here in central Texas – if only, huh? We’re seeing some strong flurries tonight, turning into snow showers in the early morning. Low chances of any significant build up, but you can expect hazardous driving conditions. Black ice and low visibility will make extensive travel dangerous–”

The radio in Keith’s Hardware is old fashioned, curving around the volume and tuning knobs. It’s one of the ones that still has a dial pointer, which is almost always aimed at 92.7 if Keith’s in the back (country); 96.7 (pop) if it’s just you and the only other girl that works in the carpenter’s wet dream of a store. Right now, though, it’s neither of those stations. The pointer is at 162.4, the weather station.

You’d known you were in for it on the drive into work. Watch the weather and it’s real nasty out there airing from your parents lips on your way out of the house for your eight hour shift. The drive had been a gunmetal sort of gray, clouds streaked through the sky and spitting bullets of sleet at your windshield.

For a little bit, the weather had almost cleared up. You’d sworn you’d seen a splotch of sun when you’d tried to step out for break, just to be driven back in by your too-thin jacket and the cold as balls temperature.

Now, though? It’s fucking freezing, and the flurries that the weatherman mentioned are starting to fall. And as much as you’d told Keith that your shitty two-wheel-drive couldn’t handle it, he’d insisted on scheduling you and Liz for close.

Which is where Mr. Miller comes in.

Joel Miller, your dad’s buddy. Joel Miller, the grumpiest secret-softie you’ve ever met. Joel Miller, a knight in shining armor with his 4x4 Ford F150 instead of a horse. Although, if your fantasies are correct – and you like to think they are – what’s between his thighs certainly makes up for the lack of a horse. But he isn’t bringing you for a ride on his cock. He just so happens to be the only man your dad knows with a four wheel drive vehicle, or at least the only one willing to spare you from spinning out by giving you a ride home. Just thinking about it has a knot pinching in the back of your throat. His hands, big and wide and stretching over the gear shift. One muscled arm dangling over the wheel. Looking over his goddamn shoulder to back out —

Liz hops up on the check-out counter where you’re counting up the last of the cash, a spread of Hamiltons, Grants, and Jacksons. You wouldn’t expect a girl like her to work at a hardware store, especially one in the backstreets of the seedy part of town. Some sort of family emergency had driven her back to Austin from NYU design school, which you’re thankful for. Mainly because you get out of cutting wood panels since she has the better eye for measurements, but also because after years of sulking in Keith’s, you finally have someone to talk shit with.

“Those heart eyes aren’t for fuckin’ Alexander Hamilton,” Liz says, tapping her acrylics on your ledger to get your attention. You cough, flipping her off with your pen still in-hand. Liz hums, pretending to think about it as you put down the last numbers. “Although I wouldn’t be too surprised. You do love a geriatric man.”

“Joel isn’t that old,” you scoff, arranging the bills into slim white envelopes and then licking them shut. “He’s just an… acquired taste.”

“Sure, his jizz probably tastes like prohibition-era booze–”

“What the fuck,” you wheeze, hands going out to brace yourself on the closest display case. Your head dips as your chest shakes with laughter.

Liz stays completely straight-faced as she continues, “You’ll have to have 911 on speed dial because if you clench, his heart’s giving out.”

“It is not,” you say, voice still strained with the laughs that won’t stop punching out of you.

She puts her hands up in defense and crosses her legs at the ankles. “Hey, it’s not my fault you like playing whac-a-mole with Great Depression dick.”

“Liz!” You playfully shove her off of the counter, thrusting the envelopes into her hands. “You’re nasty. Fucking nasty.”

She splays a wounded hand over her heart, fanning herself with the envelopes. “You know you love me.” She slips into the office behind the register. You hear the click of the safe before she calls over her shoulder, “Any particular reason you’re fantasizing on the clock?”

“Not fantasizing,” you refute. Liz pops out of the back with a uncertain look scrawled on her face. “My dad talked him into picking me up today so I don’t drive into a snowbank.”

“Sounds like the beginning of a shitty porno.”

“Don’t give me hope.”

“I’m just saying,” she grins. “You can still come to mine. Only a five minute walk with zero chance of rejection.”

“You have such little faith in me.”

She purses her lips. “Mkay…. Pro-tip: Keith probably has some Viagra sitting around in his desk drawers.”

“Liiiiiiiz,” you say. You’re about to tune her out completely when familiar headlights light up the wet asphalt, beaming through the windows. The engine idles, a soft rumble through the linoleum floors. The truck lights dim, leaving Joel in the buttery shine of the streetlamp. His thick arms stretch across the wheel, and he rakes one large hand through his hair. “Shit, speak of the Devil.” You clip off your nametag, tossing it into your half-open bag. “Can you finish closing tonight? I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“No problem, no favors necessary.” She closes the register. You fumble to get your bag over your shoulder, not wanting to keep Joel waiting. “Use protection!” she calls after you, and you make sure to flip her off one more time as the door clangs shut behind you.

A wall of cold hits you like a blade of lightning. Wind unfurls, mauling telephone lines and frosted treetops, rippling your jacket. Not even the worn scarf around your neck seems to be doing its job. Suddenly, every one of your limbs feels like an icicle. Joints almost freezing up, you half-jog, half-penguin strut your way to Joel’s passenger side. You wipe the ice off of the door handle with your sleeve. A few stray flurries dust you as you tug the door open, exhaling in relief as you haul yourself onto the side steps and into the toasty warmth of the Ford F150.

You cozy up in the seat, too preoccupied by thawing your hands with long, winded breaths to notice the affronted look Joel is throwing your way. “Are you tryin’ to catch your fuckin’ death, girl?”

“No death to catch. It’s not that cold.” The way you’re shivering says otherwise. Joel pins you with the raise of his brow.

Before you know what he’s doing, he’s groaning as he reaches over the center console into the backseat. You see a flash of his trucker jacket before it lands in your lap, flannel-lined and heavy. You use it like a blanket, draping it across your torso and wrestling your hands into the inside pockets. The canvas smells like car exhaust and off-brand Dollar General deodorant, two things that are so inextricably Joel. As much as you hate to admit it, the warmth is already inking its way across your skin – or maybe it’s just being next to Joel that’s heating you up. “Thanks,” you grumble.

When you adjust in your seat, the inside of your foot catches an empty Dr. Pepper can on the floor. It rattles when you accidentally kick it forward. You lean down and pick it up, going to place it down in the cupholder, only to find it overpopulated with random Home Depot and Whataburger receipts.

“Tax deductions,” he shrugs. “Gotta eat on the job.”

“And a…” You pick up the receipt and squint at the faded typography. “$3.29 strawberry milkshake is part of that, I figure?”

Joel grunts, “Tommy’s order.”

You smirk. “Sure it is.”

“Quit shit stirrin’ and put on your fuckin’ seatbelt.”

You reach back, fingers snagging it and tugging it down. Groping for the belt between the seats and the center console, it goes on for at least five seconds too long before Joel grabs the buckle and shoves it into the slot. His fingers brush your thigh as he pulls away from you and settles his foot over the gas pedal. The singular touch shouldn’t make butterflies beat at the walls of your stomach, but it does. Everything about him does.

Now that you’re all settled in, everything about him is also settling in. The fact that he’s only wearing a tight-fitting white t-shirt now that his coat is off. His sleeves are constricting enough that his muscles bulge below the strip of fabric. Ample scruff dapples his jawline, and his hair is disheveled in the way that you’ve learned you like it. You trail your eyes down his body, his tummy, across the undone drawstrings of his dark gray sweatpants, and no, you move on quickly from there, because you refuse to get riled up in the passenger seat.

He’s slowly peeling out of Keith’s parking lot, arm thrown over the back of your seat. You’re starting to fail at your mission of not getting riled up when you see the flex of his bicep, the way his eyes meet yours as he turns to look through the back window. He turns out of the parking lot and onto the relatively barren, icy streets–

“What the hell are those?”

Joel side-eyes you, brows furrowed. He follows the line of your gaze to his feet, which you’re used to seeing in New Balances or steel-toed work boots, but are instead wearing… fur-lined crocs.

“These here? Yeah, got ‘em recently, good for my days off with all this nippy weather. Sarah told me they’re ‘all the rage’ with the youth–”

You can’t help it. You damn near double over with laughter, clutching at your stomach. Joel’s coat nearly slides off of you, but you hang onto it with your pinkie finger, quickly going dizzy from lack of air. “‘All the rage’? Oh my fucking God– Joel, she was pulling your leg. Those are fucking hideous.”

“Hey, now–” He sighs, pinching his nose bridge with the hand that isn’t dangling over the wheel. “Zip it, I don’t needa justify my shoe choices to ya.”

“Does she do anything other than give you shit these days?”

“You’re one to talk about givin’ shit, y’know,” Joel says. Unfailingly, he smiles. The smile that pulls at the edges of his lips. The smile that he only ever gets when talking about Sarah. It doesn’t matter where – loading up his plate with barbecue, your dad asking him while he’s picking up junk mail in the morning, or on the job. If someone asks him about his daughter, Joel fucking beams.

He sucks on his teeth for a second, and then, “She’s picked up soccer. Goalkeeper. Damn good at it, too, all them other kids on her team can’t match her collapse dive.”

“Of course they can’t,” you say. “She’s got better reflexes than a house fly.”

Joel hunches over the wheel, effectively ending the conversation as he concentrates on the road. The only noise is the rumbling engine and the wagging of the windshield wipers as he attempts to navigate the black ice polka-dotted roads. It shouldn’t be as arousing as it is, seeing him in such a state of focus, his thighs tensed as he manipulates the gas and brakes to stop early, start slow. His arms thickening when he makes a right turn. Thumbs drumming drumming drumming on the wheel and maybe they’d do the same between your legs—

“So how’s work?” you blurt out.

Joel mumbles something that you can’t quite make out.

“Huh?”

“Fuckin’ ‘big shot’ gringos up my ass all day. Goddamn shitshow.” He shakes his head, his lips thinned. “I tell ‘em terraforming is gonna make it look like a Flinstone-owned-and-operated putt-putt course. They say do it anyway. I tell ‘em that orderin’ custom windows is gonna put us months behind. They say do it anyway, then come up jibber-jabberin’ all ‘bout how long it’s takin’. And it’s fuckin’... window madness, not one window in that hellhole matches another. Ain’t had so much trouble buildin’ a house since Sarah had me build her one from Hobby Lobby when she was little. Their architect musta been doin’ lines.”

You think you’ve seen Sarah’s dollhouse before when visiting, just in passing when the guest bedroom door was left open a smidge. You remember stalling in the hallway to look at it, with a fleece of dust growing on the tediously placed shingles and the oakwood front door left open like it’d been waiting for someone to come home. But Sarah outgrew it, and although Joel would never admit it, you know he’s too sentimental to leave it on the curb.

“How bad can building a dollhouse from a kit be?”

“With a five year old yellin’ like a drill sergeant in your ear? Worse than you think. She even made me rig the damn thing with electric so she could have her pink chandelier.”

You pout at him, “Wah wah, I’ll bet you loved it.”

“Was a nuisance at the time. But, uh, she was fiddlin’ with some ‘a the dolls I’d gotten her. Don’t think she knew I was watchin’, had gone to put ‘er to bed ‘cause it was a school night. She was readin’ this book I always read to her. Something about… a stuffed bear with a missin’ button and a girl that was tryna to buy him. I don’t fuckin’ know–” “Corduroy?”

“Yeah, that. Anyway, she was reading, usin’ the same tone I always used with her, tucked her dolls in for the night, and switched off the lights. I don’t think I loved it until then.” There’s a glistening in his eyes at the memory.

You smirk, “Sentimental bastard–”

The truck slides. Or maybe it coasts, skimming across the thin film of black ice. Joel eases down on the brakes, hauling to a stop next to a Minivan with its warning lights on. It’s a long stretch, and you can’t even see all the way down the highway with how thick the snow is. No two snowflakes are the same, but you find it difficult to believe when you’re looking at what must be millions of them. They pirouette, landing on window panes, rooftops, and wind-agonized tree branches. Everything is blotted with white. Red warning lights glare on the ice back at you.

“Shiiit,” Joel says as he squints at the road ahead of him. He scratches at his scruff.

“Tell me you’re not going to drive through that shit.”

“I’m not,” he says.

“Then how the fuck are we getting home?”

“Chill it–” “That’s the last thing I need to do,” you huff.

“I’m takin’ the detour.”

With that, he jerks the wheel — a bit too recklessly considering the weather, in your opinion – and pulls off onto a slippery backroad. The snow seems to have clung to the trees more back here, a sort of incandescent saran wrap over the oaks. At a bend in the road, icicles hang from a yellow sign that says CURVE 30 MPH. Joel takes it at ten.

You’re not checking out his hands while he drives, no, of course not. You’re looking at the gazillion lights on his dashboard display. “You usually have that many lights on?”

“Ain’t your truck, ain’t your business.”

“I’m ridin’ in it, ain’t I?” you mock his accent. 

Joel sighs heavily. “Drivin’ me up the fuckin’ wall.” His hands clench briefly around the wheel. “Auto repair shop’s been price gouging, I’m tryin’ to get Tommy to hook me up with his buddy in San Anton–”

“Won’t be able to drive to San Antonio if your bumper falls off halfway there.”

Joel’s voice is dry as bone. “Ha ha. You get off on bein’ a smartass?”

It’s three words – that’s all it is. Just a throwaway phrase that he probably doesn’t even realize he said. If it were anything more, you’d know. But Joel, saying those words in that order? Damn him, because it turns your blood effervescent. You stop yourself from rubbing your thighs together underneath his coat. You’re about to make another quip that’ll not only distract you, but also surely drive Joel up the wall, one of your favorite activities.

His truck putters from ten miles per hour to eight.

Eight to six.

Six to four.

“Motherfuckin’.... shit,” Joel says again, this time much more urgent as he wrests the wheel to the side. The truck skims over the frosted roads and onto the shoulder, rolls for two seconds, and then falls to a complete, utter stop. The windshield wipers pause while they’re still up. Heat no longer spits out of the dusty air vents.

It’s the loudest silence you’ve ever been in.

“...So do you get off on letting your truck break down or–”

Joel sighs in the way that dogs do. “Thin ice, missy.” He unbuckles his seatbelt and pulls out his phone. “I’ll give Tommy a call.” He stares at the screen for ten seconds. Taps it. Shakes it.

“No service?” you ask.

“No service.”

“Let me try mine,” you mumble, shifting in the car seat. Sure enough, zero bars. Even though you know it won’t work, you press your dad’s contact. It goes straight to voicemail. “Well, shit.”

“Shit,” Joel echoes.

It’s unspoken, but you both know the harsh reality of this harsh wintry night: no phone service, no operational truck, and… no heater.

“Hang tight,” Joel says, reaching over the center console and hijacking his coat from your lap. He wrestles his arms through the sleeves and zips it up. He shoves the door open against the hoarse wind that keeps the trees at a slant, hops out, then slams it shut hard enough for the vehicle to rock. From how hard the wind was blowing, stray flurries dust the truck’s interior.

You can’t really see what he’s doing – the snow’s too heavy, the hood popped wide open for him to investigate the truck’s viscera. You run your hands up and down your thighs, already feeling cold. Without the heater, it won’t be much longer before you turn to an icicle in the passenger seat. The hood bangs back down.

Joel climbs in from the backseat, slams the door as hard as humanly possible, and then scoots to the middle seat. 

You crane your neck to see him as he shakes out his cold-reddened hands before puffing air into his cupped palms. “What’s wrong with it?” You ask. 

He lets out a frigid breath. “Don’t fuckin’ know, snowin’ too damn hard to tell.”

“Ten bucks it was one of the lights on your dash,” you say.

Joel glares at you, still huffing into his hands. His fingertips are bright red to match his ruddy cheeks. Snow is sprinkled through his hair like soot, quickly melting to beads of water on his windblown curls.

“Got some… hand warmers up in that glovebox. Grab the whole pack.”

You lean forward, kneeing it open and rifling through all of his shit. Insurance papers, more receipts, Miller Contracting business cards, a folded pocket knife, lens wipes, and –

“When’s the last time these saw daylight?” you huff out a laugh as you hold up a battered box of condoms. 

Turns out, snow isn’t the thing that makes Joel Miller redder than a tomato. It’s the fifteen year old, very expired condoms hiding in his glovebox.

He clears his throat and averts his eyes. “Jesus. Forgot those were in there.”

You shake the box around and pluck a condom out of it. Looking for the expiration date, you turn it over and over in your hand. “August 31st, 2004. Really that long since you got some, Miller?”

“Put ‘em back,” he grumbles. “Pain in my ass.”

You snicker, replacing the condom box with the box of hand warmers. They’re unopened, still sealed. You snatch Joel’s keys out of the ignition and swipe them across the tape. “Happy?” you toss them over your shoulder.

“No.” He tears open the pack and rubs his hands together around the warmer, sighing when it begins to heat.

“Dick,” you grumble.

More tearing. “Brat.” Another warmer lands in your lap.

“Oughta get comfortable. We’re gonna be here a while,” Joel says.

“And whose fault is that?” You ask as you weigh the warmer in your palms. The front seat already feels cramped, and you’re quick to unbuckle your seatbelt. Your legs and arms fold like pretzels as you climb into the backseat. The curse that leaves you when you hit your head on the roof has Joel rolling his eyes.

“Pipe down. First thing in the mornin’ I’ll make the walk out to that country club a mile out and use their phone. Just gotta ride out the night. You ain’t ever roughed it before?”

You fall on all fours on the backseat, finally pulling yourself upright next to him. “Never had a reason to. Like, what if I have to piss? What if I get hungry?”

Joel shrugs. “Tough.”

The cold is starting to settle into your bones. Even your tongue feels popsicle numb, and your fingers are stiff where they wrap around the warmer. It’s like you’ve been trapped in a snowglobe and shaken up by a handsy toddler with how the wind rattles the truck and the snow swishes outside. You suppress a shiver, leaning against the door. Condensation is already building on the windows. Absent-mindedly, you begin to trace a portrait of Joel in the moisture. Your fingertip squeaks against the glass. Your masterpiece wouldn’t be complete without his signature scowl, so you’re sure to paint a frown on his face and his forehead wrinkles on thick.

“Didn’t know you were an artist,” Joel comments from the opposite side of the back. “Looks nothin’ like me, by the way.”

You smirk, “But you knew it was you.”

Because there’s nothing better to do than burn time, you spend the next ten minutes filling up the window with whatever nonsense doodles come to mind — hearts, stars, trees, and of course, the only one that Joel seems to be fond of: Sarah, smiling and curly-haired.

Reality only settles in when you’re done with the ephemeral illustrations, their outlines starting to dissolve back to regular droplets that streak down the windows. You’re stuck, for God knows how long, on this shady backroad that the Zodiac Killer would’ve loved during his heyday. With your dad’s best friend that you’ve been harboring a dangerous crush on.

And it’d be impossible to forget that it’s freezing fucking balls.

“Joel?” you say into the dark truck.

“Hm?”

Always one to speak your mind, you say, “It’s freezing fucking balls.”

A sound that might be a laugh leaves him. “Here,” Joel says, unzipping his jacket. He tosses it over to you, and you snuggle back up with it, nose burrowing into one of the creases in the fabric. His coat smells like him – like cheap body wash, chewing gum, and gasoline. 

You try putting your hands in the pockets, even going as far as to open up a new hand warmer for each one, but they’re full of loose change and, expectedly, more receipts. When you curl up against the corner between the door and the seat, the hard plastic bites into your oversensitive back. Sitting upright or cross-legged doesn’t work, and when you test drive sitting diagonally with your feet propped up on the console, Joel makes a disproving noise and swats gently at your shin. You prop your forehead up against the window, but it’s cold enough to give you a brain freeze. 

“Jesus Christ,” Joel snorts. “Get over ‘ere, you wuss.” He hauls you over, big hand splayed over your waist, and drags you across the bench to his side. You yelp in surprise, but only for a second before you’re crushed against Joel’s side. “Can’t have ya gettin’ hypothermia,” he jests.

You don’t know where to put your hands, but eventually, you settle on cupping his neck. Touching Joel, hell, even just being near him, is like being by an open furnace. Or maybe the heat is just your stomach doing somersaults at being this close to Joel after years of frivolous pining. His nape emanates warmth, the kind that flows down your arms and wraps comfortingly around your chest.

Joel exhales, the tendrils of his breath curling from the frigidity. He grabs his coat from the side and flattens it over the both of you, a piss poor replacement for a blanket, but all you’ve got.

Still, cold seeps in through the cracks in the doors, spoiling whatever lukewarm air remains. It doesn’t help that Joel had hopped in and out of the truck to play eye spy under the hood. The truck struggles to hold onto heat properly, especially when it isn’t producing more of it.

Joel sort of… flickers against your back. You think nothing of it until it happens again, this time in short bursts, and then turns into full on shivering.

“Who’s the wuss now, old man?”

Joel tenses up behind you. “Funny,” he says. With your hands cushioned against his neck, you feel the grate of his voice in his throat. “This is the best you’re gonna get unless you wanna be butt ass naked to share heat.”

It should be a joke. But the way he says it… doesn’t sound like a joke.

You go still, lifeless, not even sure if you’re shaking anymore. Because now, the only thought in your head is being pressed against Joel, his soft cock hardening against you, his palms splayed and rubbing over your stomach to keep you warm. And if his cock needed to get somewhere warmer, too…. Your clit twitches at the thought.

You smother the initial shock in your voice with your usual solution: sass. “So what, we’re gonna fuckin’ huddle for warmth?”

As much as you enjoy the idea, you're already dripping — and that’s just from your body being pressed against his, breathing the same air as him, closer now than you’ve ever been before. With no panties in the way, it’s not a stretch to say you’d be dripping down his thighs. You’d hate to have that conversation.

“Would you rather freeze to death?” Joel asks. You look up at him from where you’re curled into his side and find no gleam in his eyes. This isn’t just some knee-slapper for him. Joel Miller is being completely, irreversibly serious.

“I’d rather something less like Naked and Afraid, Joel!”

“It works,” he says, nose flaring. “They do it in those fuckin’... action movies all ‘a the time.”

“I didn’t know Hollywood was writing survival manuals for pervs–”

“God, you’re a piece ‘a work, ya know that?” His eyes flick down to you, and maybe it’s just the fact that this road is damn near pitch black, but his pupils seem larger than before. “Listen, I ain’t tryna perv on ya. I also ain’t tryna send you back to your old man with four fingers missin’ from frostbite.”

There’s no way you’re actually seriously considering this. You’ve heard of cold temperatures impairing thinking, but not like this. Your dad’ll go chasing after Joel with a pitchfork and a shovel if he finds out the man who was supposed to get you home safe and sound was cuddling naked with you. Cuddling naked with you in the backseat, no less. You’re certain Joel won’t try anything – he’s not like that. No matter how flustered you get in his lap, he’d never take advantage of you. What you aren’t certain of is your ability to stop yourself from asking him t0 take advantage of you.

This is practical. It’s only supposed to be practical. He wouldn’t be suggesting something this drastic if you both weren’t shaking like a rattlesnake’s rattler.

“Fine,” you say, already unwinding your scarf from around your neck. Determined to keep some semblance of boundaries up, you add, “No peeping, Miller.”

Joel makes an exasperated sound as you once again scoot out from his coat and across the bench, working yourself out of your shoes, your cotton zip-up, and then the stiff Keith’s uniform – a blue polo and jeans. Joel’s eyes are respectfully trained on the truck’s floor mats, which you’re only just now noticing has a sun-bleached Lisa Frank sticker tacked onto it. 

Down to your bra and panties, your heart rate picks up. Your fingers are so fucking cold that it’s hard to get your bra straps out of the way so you can unclasp the damned thing, and then it falls to the floor. Your nipples harden in the face of the cold. The only thing you keep is your scarf, which do you do your best to cover your tits with. Scooping up your discarded clothes and tossing them to the front seat, you let out a shaky breath.

Fuck it.

You shimmy out of your panties and get rid of them just as quickly. When you try telling Joel you’re decent, or rather indecent, nothing comes out. Instead, you have to clear your throat with a strained,  “All good.”

“Alright,” Joel says, rustling around. You hear his crocs scrape against the mat, and then his shirt swishing over his head.

He doesn’t tell you to look away, but since it’s implied, you look out of the window. The snowy trees tremble in the wind, and you almost wince when you see a small sliver of his tanned skin reflected in the glass. His crocs clunk on the ground when he kicks them off, and you watch his criminally tight t-shirt go flying over the passenger seat. You casually grip the Jesus handle, hoping that Joel doesn’t notice your fist tightening around it when you hear him untying the drawstrings of his sweatpants. When his sweats and boxers follow the path of his shirt, breathing gets a lot harder than you remember it being.

Just an hour ago, you’d been certain that this would be nothing more than a ten minute drive. Maybe, if you were lucky, he’d call you a casual pet name that would fuel the wriggling of your hand between your thighs that night. 

The tension in the air is thicker than molasses. Each breath you take is fragile.

“I’m ready when you are,” Joel says.

Since you’re already half-naked, and since chickening out is out of the question, you inch over to Joel’s side. The air tumbles out of your lungs in one fell swoop when your bicep meets his. With some fidgeting, you bring your legs up at an angle beneath you, wrapping around his side in a way that has you feeling a little bit like a koala. You talk yourself into keeping your eyes forward and then scrub your palms across your freezing arms.

Joel, more indifferent than you think anyone else in this situation could be, abruptly casts his coat back over the both of you.

And, fuck him, he’d been right. The engulfing canvas of his coat keeps warmth trapped where it can be passed easily between the two of you. Or maybe it’s just being confined and skin-to-skin with Joel that has you heating up.

The silence is cruel – it’s much harder to make conversation about work or dollhouses or whatever the hell else when you’re naked. Only the wind’s sibilance keeps you company.

You can get used to this, you think. Drift off into a somewhat sound sleep with your head on Joel’s shoulder and hope that you don’t drool all over him or moan his name in your sleep. More embarrassing things have happened to you.

But then, as if you’re the unluckiest person alive, the temperature drops even more, and suddenly, you’re shaking like a leaf all over again. Your teeth almost clack together as you try to stammer out to Joel, “C–cold, Jesus fucking… Christ that’s cold.”

Joel pouts down at you, but you don’t miss the way his lip quivers. “Should I call the wambulance?”

“Should I call the r–r–r–retirement home to pi…pick up a ru–runaway resident?” It sounded a lot better in your head than bouncing off of your frozen tongue, you have to admit.

“Drama queen,” Joel mutters into your ear. “Can’t do anythin’ more about it. Sorry–”

“Can I sit on your lap?” you blurt out so quickly that you don’t even have time to think about it. You grimace, partially covering your face with your hands. Shit.

Joel’s eyes widen. “Excuse me?”

You’re already half doomed. Why not go all the way? “Listen, it’s just fucking… fucking freezing, Joel. Holy shit.”

“That bad?” he chokes out.

“You’d be warmer than the seats,” you defend. “I’ll be careful, I promise. Best behavior.”

Joel seems to ponder it for a moment, brows stitched together while he looks down at you from where you’re furled up against his side. He gnaws on the inside of his cheek before giving you a slight nod. “Alright.” You nod in return, heart in your throat. “–But you better mean it when you say best behavior. Can’t have any ‘a this shit gettin’ back to your dad.”

Another nod. You hold your breath as you shinny your way onto Joel’s lap, mounting him from the front so his chest hits your back. In your attempt to get comfortable, you bracket your legs around his. His soft cock fits at the small of your back, and even though he’s as flaccid as can be, he’s big. Apparently your imagination isn’t too far off. Joel’s sharp intake of breath forms a pit in your stomach, and you know when you’re warming up for an entirely different reason than close proximity, you also know that you need to calm yourself down. Fast.

Think of something awful. Like that time that you had to dissect cow eyes in sophomore year biology. Think about mold. How many murderers you’ll walk by in your lifetime. Expired leftovers. Anything–

You adjust yourself in an attempt to get away from Joel’s cock. Instead, your hips move just so his cock slips between your thighs and bobs against your slit.

You whine.

Your body immediately locks up once you realize what you’ve done. Crawling out of the truck to die a hypothermia-induced death seems like a much kinder fate than facing Joel, but no matter how much you scream at yourself to reach out and unlock the door, your hands refuse to move. You hadn’t noticed how wet you’d gotten, and you have no idea how. It’s smeared across your thighs, and now pressed up against your back after Joel’s dick had dragged through it all.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit–

Chancing a look over your shoulder, you’re surprised to find the tips of Joel’s ears flushed, cheeks cherry ripe. His Adam’s apple bobs when you meet his eyes. Holy fuck.

You’ve flustered him.

For some reason, the thought makes your chest a lot lighter. You look away nonetheless, but this time, with a newfound gleam in your eye. There’s no such thing as a bad accident, right?

Maybe Liz was right about having to call 911, because when you ‘accidentally’ repeat the movement, Joel stops breathing all together. His cock, almost hard now, you’ve noticed, bumps against your clit. You almost swallow your tongue trying to keep your moan down.

“The fuck you think you’re doin’?” he asks, his gruff voice scratching at your ears.

“I didn’t mean to,” you lie straight through your teeth, a smug little grin spreading on your face. Something about his semi-hard cock between your bodies tells you he’s going to say no to your next suggestion. “Maybe you should put the coat between us, instea–”

“Are you outta your fuckin’ mind, girl?” Joel’s voice comes out raspy. He shakes his head, clears his throat. The vibrations rumble up your spine. “And take away the whole point of stayin’ warm? Now quit it. Ain’t that hard to sit still.”

You try your hand at listening – for all of two seconds.

You hike your hips up, fumbling with his coat as you slot his cock against your slit once more, pushing yourself forward. The coat slides right off of you, falling in a dark lump on the floor. Neither of you care — you’re both too heated for the lack of cover to make a damn difference. Joel hisses, a sound like water hitting an open flame. His hands fly down to your waist, anchoring you to his lap. A surprised noise squeaks out of you.

“What, you got rocks rattlin’ around in your brain?” Joel scowls. “You’re real impolite for a cocktease, sweetheart.”

Butterflies flap around in your stomach from his words. It’s enough to make your head tip against his chest so you can look up at him, lips shaped in a perfect pout. “I’m not,” you say.

“Not a cocktease, huh? Not even when you’re rubbin’ all over my lap?”

You gasp as your hands fly down to cover Joel’s, nails etching into where his fingers meet your bare skin. You tug at his wrist, trying desperately to guide him where you so desperately need him.

“Not happenin’,” Joel grunts, yanking your hands behind you and pinning them to your waist like you’re nothing more than a poseable doll. His large, work-worn hands make yours look damn near miniature as he holds you down. The sudden roughness douses your inner thighs with a new wave of wetness. “Jesus, girl. Poor thing, gettin’ all hot and bothered. Don’t blame ya for tryna get me to help out. Can feel ya dripping down my legs, gushin’ like a sprinkler.”

“S–sorry, fuck, ‘m sorry,” you whisper, words sticky with your arousal. Your clit twitches from his words, embarrassment and need doing all the work to keep you warm.

“Nahhh,” he says. “I don’t think you are, baby.” Maybe it’s the condescension he’s purring in your ear, maybe it’s the pet name; most likely, it’s a combination of both that has you convulsing in his lap. It’s like he’s found all of the right buttons to press to get you riled up, getting you back for all of your snide comments earlier. 

His fingers find the fabric of your scarf, luring it off of your neck so he can cord it around your wrists. You squirm when you realize what he’s doing, and a breathless huff of his laughter brushes your cheek. “I’ll be damned if you ain’t gonna be, though.” He draws it tight, tight enough for you to feel your pulses bumping into each other. Joel leaves a fair amount of your unreasonably long scarf loose.

“Joel, what the fuck are you up to?”

“Teachin’ you some sweet southern belle etiquette, darlin’. Such a goddamn troublemaker, grindin’ on me like I’m some kinda… frat boy.” He shakes his head, disbelieving. “Pullin’ that shit with your pops’ friend. Real fuckin’ classy.”

“Like you’re so different. Who’s the one that’s tying me up? Huh, Mil–”

You hear the hit well before you feel it, a firm whack to your cunt that makes your vision blacken and electricity scurrying up your spine. It takes you a second to come back to yourself before a ragged cry pulls its way out of your lips. You jolt in his lap, bound arms bobbing in front of you as your body instinctively lurches for control. You damn near kick your feet, accidentally ricocheting yourself into Joel’s chest. His forearms hold you there. 

“Guess I’ll make it crystal clear for ya, baby, since that dumb lil’ head ‘a yours is havin’ some trouble. My truck, my rules. You’re ridin’ in it, ain’t you?” You nod reluctantly as he turns your words from earlier in his favor. “That was a warnin’, you showoff. Think you can bat your slutty ‘fuck me’ eyes an’ get away with murder.” He fucking tsks at you.

He pulls his hand away from your pussy, and you’re both surprised and not surprised at all to see it covered in your arousal, webbed between his calloused fingers. 

“Got a whole goddamn slip ‘n slide down here…” murmurs Joel. You whine, bucking your hips against him. “Oughta just…” he starts, nudging his cock towards your hole. The noise you make is pathetic. “Stop ya from ruinin’ my seats. Cork you right up.” You tense up, fully expecting the intrusion, but his dick passes your cunt right up, instead sliding up to meet your clit. It taps against your swollen nub, and if his goal was to stop you from ruining his seats, you’re certain he’s already failed with how quickly you gush all over the upholstery.

“But that’d be real nice, wouldn’t it? Givin’ ya what ya want so early on…” Instead of pulling away like you expect, Joel griiiinds the head of his cock against your clit. You moan helplessly, head falling back across his shoulder.

And then he does it again.

And again.

And agai–

“Joooooel,” you whine, knees jerking each time his tip meets your most sensitive spot. Heat spins in your stomach.

He backs his hips up “What? Thought you loved this with how much you were gettin’ at it earlier.”

You shake your head rapidly in the negative, chest rising and falling at a breakneck pace while he teases you.

“So you can deal, but you can’t play?”

“I think you’re just taking your sweet old time getting it up, old man,” you grit out, knowing damn well he’s stiffer than titanium behind you.

Joel hums. “Ah, she’s got jokes.” His cock slips back, quickly replaced by his hand engulfing your mound. Your clit twitches ever so slightly against his palm lines, and you’re almost convinced you could get off from that alone. His palm cracks against your cunt again, somehow even harder than the first time. You cry out, eyes burning from arousal and the slightest edge of pain.

With his thumbpad, he taps your clit like he’s just scrolling through the cable guide with a remote. Fleeting movements that have you wanting more more more. It heals the sting of his slap even if the echo of the hit still simmers in your stomach. Your cunt throbs so hard that it hurts, jumping up to meet Joel’s scarce ministrations.

When he retracts his hand, your hips chase the movement. “See this?” he taunts, fluttering his wet fingers in front of your face. You make a choked noise when his drenched middle finger breaches your lips. He doesn’t even need to tell you; you latch on and suck yourself off of his calloused skin. You’re mostly salty, but a little sweet, and tasting yourself on your own tongue by his insistence manages to make you even wetter.

Joel takes his spare fingers, just as soaked, and smears them all around your chin and lower cheeks. He presses down on your tongue as he does. You gag from the pressure, and you can’t hear his laugh over the roaring of your blood in your ears, but you feel it rattle his chest where it meets your spine. Your slick cools quickly against your burning skin, syrupy as it clings to your face. “Need a bib, baby?”

He pulls his finger from your mouth with a pop and your scarf-wrapped hands spring to wipe yourself from your lips, hoping to save yourself from the humiliation of having your own pussy juice anointing your face. You only scoop up a little before Joel lowers his forearm over yours, but for once, you’re faster than him. You swipe your wet hand over his mouth, smudging as much as you can along the scruff surrounding his mouth.

He wraps a burly hand in the scarf and yanks your hands back into place. All you can do in response is giggle, but the breath is swiftly knocked out of you when he drives his cock right into your clit. “Think you’re funny, don’t ya?” He asks, and finally grunts as he rolls his hip into you. A break in his resolve, a sign that he wants this, or at least the discipline of this, as badly as you do.

You almost weep from the pressure, that rope of pleasure in your stomach that he keeps knotting tighter and tighter and tighter with each stroke of his cock, his fingers. “Joel!” you cry out as he follows it up with another firm swat to your clit. His cock spreads your folds as he softens the bashing, nuzzling his tip against your spasming cunt.

“Really, oughta give standup a go one ‘a these days. Be a real hotshot.”

“Oh yeah?” you pant, light headed and woozy.

“Mhm. If the whole crowd’s drunk.” His cock nudges your nub with a new vigor.

“Assh–”

Right as you’re about to press down and follow the sensation, Joel senses it. His cock gives way through your cheeks, just in time for him to land a ruthless slap across your pussy. It’s harder than the others – makes your ears ring for a second, gives you a sort of visual snow that has you doubling over and gripping at the closest object for purchase, which just so happens to be the metal rods coming out of the headrest. 

“Ain’t what you should be sayin’ if you’re plannin’ on gettin’ what you want, sugar,” Joel tuts. He shakes his head at you. “Don’t wanna hear no lip from ya, girl.”

You open your mouth, argument on the tip of your drool-loaded tongue, but your halfhearted attempt at defiance doesn’t last long. Joel’s hand clamps around your chin, denting your skin into your teeth. He jerks your head to face him, knocking you down a peg with scathing eye contact. “You’re pushin’ it.” He loosens his grip.

“As if, Miller. If those pre-Cold War condoms are anything to go by, you’ve been dying for a chance to get your dick wet. Doesn’t matter how much lip I give you, you aren’t gonna blue ball yourself for much longer.” Satisfied, you raise your brows at him.

Turns out, he is going to blue ball himself for much longer, because he lands six slaps in rapid succession across your sopping cunt. The skin smarts, and you cry out. Your grip tightens around the headrest rod to the point of strangling it. Your eyes water, and you can’t tell if you’re crying. Too consumed by Joel, everything has melted into him – the smell of sawdust perpetually sewn into his skin, his cock sealed against your body.

“How many times are ya gonna poke the bear before you learn your lesson, you cheeky little shit?” Joel’s palm cups the inside of your right thigh, just above the knee. He traces circles with his thumb, and heat trails after him with everywhere he touches. “See, the thing about havin’ ‘pre-Cold War condoms’ is that I’ve had a helluva lot more time to learn self control than you. Can wait as loooooong as it takes for you to get your head on right. Don’t matter if you’re waterfallin’ down my seats or not, pretty girl. I’m giving you exactly what ya deserve.”

You whimper, trying (and failing) to get your magma hot core closer to Joel’s unfairly large hand, still splayed out on your inner thigh. You can’t stop how you squirm in his lap, smearing your arousal everywhere with each movement you make.

At a snail’s pace, his hand begins to inch up your leg. Joel pauses to grope at you as his hand travels upward. Handfuls of your skin, rubbing at your scalding hot thighs. Your patience is wearing thin by the time he gets midway there. You need him to touch you. And that’s just the tip of this impossibly destructive iceberg.

You shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t have let him go down this shitty backroad, shouldn’t have agreed to your dad’s ridiculous idea of Joel picking you up, shouldn’t have asked to be naked on his lap, shouldn’t have gotten naked on his lap, shouldn’t be leaking like a twenty-year-old pipe in a building he’d been hired to renovate. If your dad ever finds out–

“Joel, please, please – plea…” you trail off, dissolving into incoherent whimpers as his hand hovers over your cunt. You’re running hotter than a radiator now, and if you both wanted to be warm, then you’ve got your wish. Although mostly gibberish, Joel has to understand what you want from him. It’s just that the bastard is unwilling to provide.

Joel reaches down to pinch your clit, and your body can’t even discern from pleasure and pain anymore. You react the same to it all, back arching as you try desperately to plant yourself on his cock. “Shhh, shhh, quit runnin’ your filthy mouth. Only gonna get yourself into more trouble.”

You swear you hear angels singing, swear you see the pearly gates when he gives your clit a merciful rub. Melting into him, you exhale shakily.

“See? All nice ‘n quiet when she’s gettin’ what she wants.” You wouldn’t even dream of mouthing off to him now.

“I want – I need…” you gasp out, putty in his hands. Moldable to his liking. Everything you’d pretended not to want.

“Go on,” he coos. “Tell daddy what you need.”

You don’t even hear him say that word. You’re too hooked on begging, begging, begging. “Please – Joel, oh god, please – I need… I need… please please please, fuck, it hurts–”

Joel clicks his tongue. “Nuh uh. Start over. Always such a chatterbox ‘cept for when I need ya to be.”

“Wha…?” you ask, admittedly dazed from the harsh treatment that you’ve come to crave more of.

“Tell daddy what you need,” he repeats, words molasses slow.

You clench, gushing even more all over him. Shit, your next paycheck might have to go to replacing the goddamn seats if you keep up like this.

“D–D… D-” you start stammering out, but you’ve lost autonomy over your body long ago, and apparently that goes for your tongue, too. “Da– Da… pl–”

“Any day now,” he scoffs.

“Daddy!” you spit out all at once. “Please, please, daddy, fuck – fuck me, daddy, please, I want your cock, daddy. Feels so fucking big. Need it daddy, it hurts… please, ngh– daddy!” Tears are burning the corners of your eyes, fueled almost entirely by arousal and partially by frustration. You squirm, cunt crying all over the place. 

“M’kay, baby,” he says. Running a hand down your chest and squeezing your nipple on the way down. He slides his hand down your stomach to cup your mound, giving your clit slow, gentle circles. Your hips jump forward, and this time, he doesn’t stop you. “Daddy’s got ya.”

At the first intrusion of his middle finger in your cunt, you jump. It’s a lot compared to what he’s been giving you, but nowhere near enough. A second finger slips inside. He doesn’t have to do much work to stretch you out — you’ve been seeping out of you since you first got on his lap. He’s all too quick thrusting them in and out of you – the messy squelch of your pussy filling the backseat has you burying your chin against your chest, averting your eyes. The heel of his palm bumps persistently at your clit with each shift of his fingers inside of you.

“I know you ain’t a virgin, but you’re soakin’ like one. Too damn cocksure to ain’t have had a cock in ya before. Prancin’ around like a glorified dick trap.” You inhale sharply when his fingers scrape that spongy spot inside of you that you can never reach yourself. A moan rips out of you. The combination of him talking down to you and rubbing your g-spot has you dangerously close to cumming. Your moan is quickly swallowed up by more of Joel’s condescension. 

He starts mumbling to himself then, obscenities that make you clench even tighter around his fingers. “Gonna get you all sore baby, make you regret beggin’ for this dick like a horny ‘lil bitch that ain’t ever been laid in her life. Fuck you so hard you’ll be cryin’ for daddy’s cock up your ass instead, turn you into an anal slut, too.” He’s too busy listening to himself talk, too absorbed in his own world to feel you balancing on that razor-thin edge.

The noise you make is inhuman. You pulse around him, doing your best to stave off your impending release. “Daddy–” you warn, but he cuts you off then, too. Joel grinds his cock between your ass cheeks, his precum dripping down your slit to meet your trembling cunt. 

“Ever been fucked here before baby?” He swipes his tip along your asshole, and the way you shudder is answer enough for him. “Don’t get all jumpy, sweetheart. Ain’t gonna fuck ya there right now. Be cruisin’ for a bruisin’.” Still, he replaces his tip with his free hand’s thumb, simply rubbing at the ring of muscle. You fidget in his lap without an end-goal. You just want to be close to him, want to take everything he’s willing to give you. His fingers hook just right inside of you. “Would love to be the first to unlock this pretty backdoor. If this tight ‘lil pussy’s anything to go by… Christ. You’d look so pretty squirmin with my cock in your ass, baby–”

“Daddy!” You scream as your orgasm guts you. His fingers and his voice rip your climax right out of you and your cum streams down your inner thighs and Joel’s hand, still smacking against your clit with each thrust. Your cunt spasms around his flexing fingers. He has to fold an arm over your chest to keep you from sliding off his slippery lap entirely.

All the way through the aftershocks that make your limbs quake, Joel holds you upright against his body, still bumping his palm and fingertips against your clit and g-spot. You swear you can feel him smiling against your shoulder.

“Didn’t tell ya you could cum, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, flicking his cum covered finger across your clit. You wince in overstimulation, a whine catching in your throat.

“‘M sorry, daddy,” you pant. His hands go up to 

“‘S okay, babygirl. Pretty pussy couldn’t help it when I was talkin’ ‘bout fuckin’ your ass, huh?” His hands rove up your stomach to play with your tits, palming and stroking, getting his hands all over every carnal part of you.

You hum into his bicep, “Mmmm.”

“That’s alright. Don’t mean you’re gettin’ away with a slap on the wrist though. C’mon, up,” he guides with a small slap to your thigh. You adjust, bringing yourself onto your knees so he can enter you from behind. You look down at his sturdy thighs, flexing as he adjusts himself between your legs. He gives you one more teasing thrust through your thighs, poking your oversensitive clit one more time before reaching down to spread your folds.

You moan as he presses against your entrance, and it’s not the best time to have a come to Jesus moment, but – Joel’s size was in no way over exaggerated between your legs. You stiffen in realization, and Joel, attentive as always, notices. He guides your chin to face him and nuzzles his nose up against yours, mouth tracing down to your lips. Your breath mingles, stagnant in the long-forgotten chill. A cushion of softness against all of his spiky edges that showed up tonight. “You’re on top, baby. Take it as slow or as fast as ya want.”

Nodding at the reminder, you find yourself that you don’t want to take it slow. You want to be as sore as he’d promised, want to feel him for days and be reminded of this every time you look at the winter morning’s frost on the shingles outside.

Sinking down over his throbbing length yanks the air out of your lungs as you seat yourself with him bottoming out and going balls deep in your cunt simultaneously. He grunts against you in surprise, softening the blow of your heady moan. “Attagirl,” he huffs into the crease between your neck and shoulder. It’s a stretch, searing up your thighs and to your lower back. You’re brought back to yourself when Joel rolls his hips into you, making the pain liquefy into mind-numbing pleasure. You spend thirty seconds waiting for him to fuck up into you in a way that changes your philosophy around the world, but instead, he’s still and solid inside of you.

“Go on,” Joel coaxes, placing a steady hand just shy of your mound. “Gotta prove you deserve to cum again.” He taps your thigh as if he’s telling you to giddy up, and the shame warms the back of your neck better than any heater ever could.

You whimper. His hands coast up your thighs, squeezing your hips tight before falling to grip the seats below. You’re still weak from your last orgasm, shaky legs struggling to hold yourself up as it is. “Daddy… I can’t…” 

“Ain’t no different than fuckin’ y’self on that vibrator or dildo or whatever the fuck’s in your nightstand. Girl like you, gotta have a wimpy ‘lil fucktoy somewhere.” His words make you clench around him, and he groans into your neck. Joel looks up at the front window, now covered in snowflakes. He smirks when he spots the rearview mirror. “Oughta make you watch yourself. Show a pathetic, cockstarved slut what happens when she bites off more than she can chew.” At that, you mewl, grinding yourself down. The chuckle he lets out is lined with cruelty.

Joel pins you to his chest with one burly arm and leans forward with a hash of grunts from effort. He reaches out towards the rearview mirror, lowering it to face the middle seat that you’re both braced on. He sinks back quickly, and it almost gives you whiplash before you make eye contact with yourself. You can see everything. Tremors travel up your legs and into your arms. Your body is getting freezer burn from how cold and hot you are at the same time. Pleasured tears threaten to spill over your waterline. Joel’s smug fucking face as he murmurs endlessly at you. 

Your mouth is parted as you take yourself in, truly a pathetic, pretty little picture as you pant. “C’mon,” Joel coaxes, squeezing your ass. “You can do it. Make daddy proud. I’ll even give you a boost.” Joel reaches to your tied hands and quickly undoes the scarf, letting it drop to the floor. You flex your fingers and then reach out for the chairs ahead to get a good grip.

You prop yourself up on your knees, anchoring yourself to the two chairs in front of you. Using a combination of your upper and lower body strength, you rise halfway off of Joel’s cock before your body gives out. His balls slap wetly against your clit. He laughs, still not touching you at all. Your head flops forward as you look down to where the two of you meet, and then at the mirror where his cock is buried deep inside of you. You whine in dismay.

He wasn’t lying when he said he was going to get you sore. You can only moan. It’s pleasure like you’ve never had it before – too much, not enough, painful, so good. “Please, Joel – I can’t… can’t handle it.”

“I’ll decide what you can handle,” he says.

“You’re– you’re so fucking mean,” you rasp.

“Gets you this soaked, baby. Don’t see your pussy complainin’. You love bein’ treated like a piece ‘a meat. Like a little fleshlight for men to fuck.”

You clench, tight. “Ah!” Joel fucking sniggers behind you, but a rush of confidence spills through you at the underlying moan in his throat.

Determined to get what you want, you tighten your grip on the front seats. Haul yourself up, almost so that the tip slips right out, and then collapse back onto Joel’s cock. And, shit, it’s a lot. You doubt you could handle his cock in missionary, but being made to ride him in such a compromising position, sprawled out across his shitty backseat? That’s an entirely different animal, one that you hadn’t expected to have to handle.

You focus on doing just enough to please him and just enough to keep yourself intact. You repeat your movements two or three times, rising and falling. Little moans and whimpers, some pained, some good when he nudges your g-spot just right, slip in and out of you.

“Mmmm, yeah, that’s it. Daddy’s ‘lil wannabe pocket pussy. Doin’ a ‘lil better baby. Keep doin’ that. Jus’ keep doin’ that.”

You’re shaking like a leaf on his cock as you somehow manage to lift yourself another time before fucking back on him. “Daaaddy.” Your lips quiver as you form the word. A single tear runs down your face from overexertion, and he’s quick to wipe it up with his thumb as if it was never there. You look truly whorish and pathetic, just like he’d wanted, bouncing on his cock with the last of the energy you have left in you.

His tip jabs against that goddamn spot again, and you double over on the center console. You take heaving breaths, making eye contact with yourself in the mirror, desperate to please as you attempt to keep humping him with the change in angle. You’re letting out strings of disoriented words, but barely can tell that you’re talking.

“I fuck you dumb already? Slutty little girl. Told ya you were in for it. Ain’t ever had much of a knack for listenin’. Gonna dick you down now, sweet girl.” He drags your legs into the crook of his elbows, holding you upright for him as he shifts to his knees between your legs. Braced on the center console with your pussy settled on his cock, the new angle makes you cry out. You hold yourself up on your elbows, giving shallow rolls of your hips in return as Joel gets settled inside of you.

The first thrust makes your eyes roll back so far that you see black. “Feel good?”

“So… so fu–fucking goo… good daddy,” you whimper into the console, gripping the sides of it just so you have something to hold onto.

“Swallowin’ daddy’s dick whole in this greedy cunt. Goddamn, drippin’ down my fuckin’ balls. Such a masochistic slut, all after a poundin’ from an old man. All up in a tizzy for this cock.”

You moan your agreement, completely submissive to Joel’s wills. You move like a ragdoll for him, letting him yank you back on his cock while he meets you there, thrust for thrust. He pulls out, a small mercy, but when he sheathes himself back inside of you in full, it’s the beginning of a punishing pace.

You don’t even notice yourself drooling all over the console until Joel says something about it. “Droolin’ from two places. Yeah, baby, you needed this. Daddy’s pretty cockslut.” You whine especially loudly when Joel drags you back across the console, damn near fast enough to give your stomach rugburn. 

Hands framing your spread legs, Joel hooks them both around his torso, using the leverage to plow into you. You’re boneless beneath him, mouth frozen in silent moans. His hips meet your ass with each shove of his cock in your sloppy cunt, the obscene sound of slap after slap pealing out within the truck. “Damn lucky we’re in the middle of nowhere,” Joel growls on another thrust. “Someone woulda been knockin’ on the window long time ago with how loud you’re bein’.”

“Mmph,” you gasp when Joel tosses one of your legs up and over the passenger seat. You hold yourself there as he digs his fingers into your other thigh, shifting his spare hand to your mound.

“Daddy please please please plea–” you start panting like a broken record, desperate to feel his hand on your clit, which throbs with inattention on the console. You grind frantically on the edge just in case he denies you again. 

Joel laughs above you, fully smudging two fingers across your clit in a blur of indescribable pleasure. “Ain’t gonna make ya beg this time. Can’t wait to feel ya creamin’ ‘round me… maybe I’ll make ya lick that up too. Nasty bitch.”

“Joooel, oh fuck, please…” you whine as he continues railing you, this time fiercely tweaking your clit in-time with his movements.

The new position has his thrusts meeting your cervix, and you scream, pleasure corkscrewing through your body. There’s nowhere for all of it to go with how viciously it burns in your stomach – all you can do is take it and whine for him. “Takin’ it real good. See what happens when ya behave? You get this fat cock splittin’ your whore cunt in two, jus’ like you were askin’ for.”

He grips your hip tight, clearly expecting an answer. You slur, “Mhm, daddy!”

Joel rubs faster circles around your clit, spouting filth while he drills your pussy. You can tell he’s chasing his own release, too, hips frantically fucking in and out of you, his cock twitching every single time you clench. You’re burning up as he jackhammers your pussy. Your second orgasm of the night brims low in your stomach, “Come on, baby, know you’re close. Feel this slutty pussy squeezin’ me. You gonna ask permission like a good girl this time, or are ya gonna go back to your defiant little slut self?”

“No, daddy,” you whimper, suspended in thin air over orgasmic bliss. He’s rubbing your clit erratically, doing everything he can to hold you in place. “P-please daddy, can I come?” You practically scream it out.

“Go ahead,” he says. “Come for daddy’s, come allll over daddy’s cock.”

The band snaps. Your back arches, and you feel time stop in the second before you fall slack on the console, spasming from the best orgasm of your fucking life. Your clit feels like there’s fucking pop rocks on it, something that not even your vibrator has ever achieved. “Thank you daddy!” you cry out, repeating it as you lose all feeling in your bones. You hardly have any control over your body anymore – it’s just Joel Joel Joel Joel. Sated and weary, you just lay there, letting Joel fuck into you.

And fuck into you he does – roughly, helping you ride out your orgasm as he pursues his. “That’s my girl,” he says, and you swear that alone could make you cum all over again. “Lettin’ your daddy use this juicy, well-fucked cunt to get his own.” He can’t hold back his moans, that’s how you know he’s close, grunting and gasping as he rocks his hips into yours. His hand lands on your ass in a sharp smack, and your pussy clenches in exactly the way that he expected. He lets out a particularly ragged noise, folding himself over you to nip at your neck and rest his forehead against your shoulder blade. “Daddy’s close, where do ya want me, baby?”

“Tits,” you whine. It’s a miracle you can even get that one word out, but somehow, you manage a few more. “Come on my tits, daddy.”

“Fuck!” Joel shouts, yanking himself over you. You help him roll yourself over and sit up on your elbows, and he jerks himself once, twice, before spraying his load all over your tits with the loudest groan yet. His brows fold together as he cums, eyes drooping and his mouth parted as he takes deep breaths.

You sit there for a handful of heavy minutes, listening to each other’s jagged breathing and the sawtoothed wind outside. You’re both so fucked. Literally, and figuratively. Stuck in the buttfuck middle of nowhere, you with your dad’s proclaimed bestie’s cum drying on your tits, and said bestie staring at you with post-coital puppy dog eyes and your cum all over his balls.

You’re the first to speak up, still winded. “That was… that was good.”

Joel nods mindlessly, tongue swiping out to lick his lips. He beckons you closer, and on trembling legs, you bring yourself to the backseat. You return to your previous position, huddled up and curled next to the door. Joel fumbles around under the back bench for a little until he comes up with a small, sunbleached pack of princess-themed pocket tissues that have to be as old as Sarah is. He dabs at your chest before stuffing them into the closest empty cupholder, and then brings you closer to his chest.

You don’t notice yourself falling asleep when all you can feel is Joel.

There’s better ways to wake up than a furious rapping on the window, but that isn’t the first thing you notice. You blink your eyes open groggily, only to face an egg yolk sun cracking wide open over the treeline and snowmelt bleeding out from every given surface. Joel’s behind you, nose in your neck, snoring softly with his arms wrapped around your middle. You take a moment to admire him – his sun kissed skin and his peaceful expression. It takes you a moment to remember you slept with him. You slept with Joel, and it was the best fuck of your life.

You’re stretching, on the verge of a yawn, when you see the familiar head of black hair over the window. “Shit!” you shout. Joel jerks to life behind you, mumbling something that sounds a lot like ‘what?’. 

You scramble to pull the coat over the both of you from where it fell off of you in the middle of the night, covering your naked bodies. “Get dressed!” you hiss to Joel, searching for wherever the fuck your panties ended up last night.

“What the hell’s gotten into ya–” he starts, and you feel the exact moment that he realizes Tommy Miller is outside of the truck. “Motherfucker,” he curses, swaying towards the front seat to snag his clothes. You see him almost put his head through his T-shirt armhole three times before he gets it right. His sweatpants are next, which he tugs up his bare legs without even searching for his boxers.

“Joel?” Tommy shouts outside. “Wake up, sleepin’ beauty!” He knocks on the door again, the windows blurry from melting snow. You have that to thank, at least. It buys you enough time to tug your polo over your head, but not enough time to button it all the way up.

“Fuckin’... dumbass,” Joel huffs as he clips the lock on the door and kicks it open, looking at least somewhat composed. You take deep breaths, looking between the two of them. “How’d you find us?”

Tommy looks Joel up and down, scrutinizing him. “What happened to southern gentleman manners? I came out here to save ya from Mt. Everest, brother! Least you could say is ‘thank you’.”

“Thank you,” you fill in for Joel, even if the last thing you’re feeling is grateful.

“Her daddy threw a hissy fit, y’know? Told him you were fine and we’d go lookin’ for ya in the mornin’. We saw all that backup on the highway, I went this way, he went that way, turns out my gut was right. ‘Course my dumbass brother would take this route… hey, you’re truck’s a fuckin’ mess.” Tommy sinks his hand into the closest cupholder, pulling out a wad of tissues that have been soaked in his cum. You hiss as if you’ve been scalded with boiling hot water.

Joel starts, “Tommy–”

“What the fuck is this shit?” The realization seems to dawn on poor Tommy when he’s peeling apart the tissues, and he drops them like they’re a thousand pounds. You can’t even bring yourself to scold him for littering as the wind carries them away. “Joel. You dirty dog!” He says, eyes flitting between the two of you like it’s the most impossible thing in the world.

Your heart picks up to a speed that can rival most NASCAR drivers and your face burns like hot asphalt. You look pointedly down at the ground.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Joel seethes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Get outta here, you little shit.”

Tommy’s hands go up. “Hey now, I ain’t doin’ anything. That is not a conversation I wanna have with her daddy.” He clears his throat, effectively clearing the air along with it. “So, uh, truck break down?” Joel grunts in affirmation.

“Been tellin’ ya you need to make a stop at the auto shop… C’mon, I’ll get y'all home,” Tommy says, jingling the keys to his own truck. “Call a tow on the way.”

Joel drags his feet all the way to Tommy’s passenger side. You get your wallet and jacket together, winding the latter around your waist. The sun almost blinds you on your way out, and Tommy stops you.

“I hope you didn’t let ‘im stick it to ya with them prehistoric condoms. You’re smarter ‘n that.”

“God, no,” you huff out.

“I dunno what’s stupider, lettin’ my asshole brother hit it raw or gettin’ a UTI–”

“Okay!” you announce, hands going up as you round the back of Tommy’s truck. “Conversation over.” You’re still smiling playfully at Tommy as you clamber into the back of the truck, sighing when the air conditioner hits.

Just like that, back to the same old same old sunny, shithole state of Texas. Joel looks at you in the rearview mirror and winks at you. You guess not everything has to stay the same these days.

[orodaeh]

Just ADORABLE! It's been a while but that pic is still in on my mind, and I CAN'T SHAKE IT OFF...

Picture by Jubs on Pinterest

[orodaeh]

MAY GOD HELP ME. I see him, I want him, BUT I CAN'T have him... life is unfair sometimes.

Picture by roses archive on Pinterest

[orodaeh]

I keep coming back to this work of art over and over again ahhhhh <3333

is it that sweet? (joel miller x f!reader) 18+

masterlist | a/n i've had no motivation to write lately but this randomly popped into my head the other day and suddenly my brain was like okay let's roll!! let's do this!! let's jump in!! so idk what that says about the current state of my subconscious. anyway this is filth! pls read the warnings! love u. summary: you probably shouldn't let some random middle aged man on the beach take nude photos of you, right? right? rating: 18+ explicit warnings: pervy!joel, age gap, voyeurism, coercion, objectification, sneaky picture taking, nude photos, paying for sexual favors, dirty talk, praise kink, pussy pronouns up the fuckin wazoo, oral (f receiving), nipple sucking, unprotected p in v sex, standing sex, creampie word count: 8.4k ao3 dividers by @saradika-graphics 🤍

He's been watching you for about an hour. You'd sussed him out almost immediately after settling onto your beach towel and digging into your bag for your sunscreen, mildly aware of the shape of him in your peripheral vision. He's old, definitely in his late fifties, but certainly not the most unattractive man who could be eyeing you. You're used to it by now anyway, almost feed into the way men seem to gawk at you sometimes now that you've finally thrown caution to the wind and stopped giving a fuck about your beach body. You used to be self conscious about your curves, your tummy, your thighs - you decided this summer that it had to stop.

And you're glad you did. Because now he's staring at you, this unnamed, completely anonymous middle aged man only a few feet away. And it feels fucking good.

Should it feel good? Probably not. Should you tell him to buzz off and leave you alone? Take a picture, it'll last longer, something like that? Probably. But will you? No.

You like feeling his eyes on you.

Older men like you, you've noticed. They stare. They stare more than men your own age - boys, really. Twenty somethings who try to play it cool and more often than not come across as disinterested in their interest. They're cowardly, obnoxious. And you suppose some older ones are too, especially the ones with wives - they want you to be impressed by them, ooh and awe over their high paying jobs and big mansions, their fancy cars that they think make up for their tiny dicks.

But every now and then you'll come across one like this. You can read him like a book, peering at him from over your sunglasses every so often as he lounges behind a vibrant blue umbrella. His eyes caress your bare shoulders and chest, your exposed stomach, your soft thighs. They linger on the places they shouldn't and it makes you tingle. He's appreciating what he sees, basking in it, taking his time.

You could be content just lying here and letting him look. He is handsome after all, greying curls and soft scruff flecked with white, golden skin that almost glows underneath the sun. His legs stretch out over his own towel, long and lean and strong. He's got a soft looking belly, hanging out a little bit over his trunks, and now your eyes linger for a little longer than they should.

But you won't say anything. If he wants to talk to you, he has every opportunity to. You're not going anywhere for at least another hour, not until the sun starts setting and it's time to head back to your friend's vacation home. You've only been in California for a short period of time, but it's like it's somehow molded you into a different person - a more confident, sexier version of yourself that's been dying to get out for years. A version of you who lets this old man stare and get his fill as you smirk and turn over on your towel, arching your ass up into the air.

Oh, he likes that. You can tell because of the way his jaw clenches, neck tightening as his eyes fall to the globes of your cheeks. With a barely there smirk, you arch a little more, stretching and flexing and letting him take in the way your bikini bottoms barely contain them. Your breasts hang low onto your towel, practically overflowing from their own containment, and you have to admit - you're getting a little wet posing for him like this.

He licks his lips, eyes flickering downward again to something closer to him, something in his hand. You crane your neck a little bit to peer around the blue umbrella, and your breath hitches.

He's taking pictures of you.

It's obvious now, should have been obvious this whole time, really. Only one of his hands has really been visible, the other settled low against his side behind the umbrella. Now you can see that he's got his phone angled toward you, the camera peeking slyly out from behind the blue nylon as he repeatedly taps his screen with his thumb. To test him a little further, make sure you're really seeing what you think you're seeing, you push down into the sand with your hands and rise up a little bit on the towel, almost into a lazy downward facing dog. Your tits jiggle below you, threatening to escape, and out of the corner of your eye you watch as the man adjusts the camera to get a better angle. His thumb and forefinger glide across the screen, undeniably - and unashamedly - zooming in.

You're definitely wet now. You know you shouldn't be. You know this has probably gone too far and you should get up and leave, potentially tell someone about the creep on the beach taking photos of women in bikinis.

Instead, you make eye contact with him, settling back down onto your towel with your ass still perched a little in the air. He seems to freeze, eyebrows going up in the realization that he's been caught. In response, you blink slowly at him, pout a little bit as if to say, Really? You arch your back a little more and shimmy your hips, tilting your head as you continue to gaze over at him, eyes going a little hooded.

Come fuck me, you're almost saying, even though you know there's no way in hell you're gonna let him. It's just funny to watch him squirm, phone gripped tight in his hand as his adam's apple bobs in his throat. You arch a little more and then grind your hips into your towel, flattening yourself against it, holding his gaze. You rest your head and smile at him teasingly.

He's getting up and shuffling toward you in no time at all.

"Hi, darlin'," are the first words out of his mouth when he reaches you, and you certainly did not expect a Southern accent to fall from those plush lips. He's gorgeous really, now that you can see him up close - wide shoulders and big arms that strain against his white shirt, strong chest covered in little freckles, chocolate brown eyes that shimmer in the sunlight.

"Hi," you say with a smile, blinking up at him.

"I'm sure you saw what I was doin'," he seems a little embarrassed, voice apologetic as he scratches the back of his neck, "I know I shoulda asked, but you seemed so relaxed, I didn't wanna disturb you."

Bullshit, you only came over because I smiled at you. Any other reaction and you'd have run for the hills.

"I'm Joel," he reaches his hand down for you to take. For some reason, you shake it without hesitation. "I'm actually a photographer, believe it or not."

Huh. You raise an eyebrow at the words, doubt immediately swimming in your mind as you assess him.

"If you're a photographer, where's your camera?"

He chuckles, "Back at my hotel. I just came out here to relax, wasn't plannin' on takin' any photos. But then I saw you, and, well..." he smiles at you sheepishly, "You're just so pretty, darlin'. Never seen somebody like you before."

The words are not special. They're nothing you haven't already heard, nothing he hasn't probably already used on countless other women. And yet... you smile back at him, cheeks warming a little at the way the compliment sounds coming out of his mouth in particular, all Southern and sweet. "Thank you."

His eyes suddenly leave yours to flicker back toward your body again, scanning the length of you. As if on instinct, almost to show off, you tighten the muscles in your ass cheeks and then release, letting them jiggle a little bit under your swimsuit. He swallows tightly.

"Would you be interested in posin' for me, sweetheart? There's a little spot down the beach, outta sight. Still public though, of course. I wouldn't ask you to go anywhere unsafe," his eyes linger on your ass for a few more seconds before he's meeting your gaze again, soft and sincere, "I'd love to get some pictures of you in that bikini, and some with it off too, if you're comfortable with that."

Oh, he's fucking brave. You can feel disgust brewing in the pit of your stomach, a scowl beginning to dawn on your face. This is where you should draw the line. This is where you should get up and leave, tell him to go to hell, tell him he's a pervert and-

"I'll pay whatever you think is fair," he continues, "How's three hundred as a starting point?"

On second thought...

"Beautiful, baby," he's telling you softly, "You're so pretty like that."

You hum in contentment, laying in the sand with a little smile tugging at your lips as Joel maneuvers around you with his phone, snapping pic after pic as you peer up at him through rays of sun. You're a little ways down the beach now, in a sparser area behind some rocks. He was right about it still being public - if something happened, you know you could raise your voice the tiniest bit and be heard immediately by people on the other side. Somehow though, despite his forwardness and slightly perverted habits, you trust that he isn't going to force anything on you.

You've already got three hundred dollars in your purse. He'd given it to you before you'd even gotten up from your initial spot on the beach, placed it in your hand with a grin as your eyes widened. You suppose you could've taken the money and run, but part of you wanted to play it out, test the limits, see what else he'd pay you for.

Which leads you here, laying sensually in the sand with the strings of your bikini dangling a little looser off your shoulders and hips, a little careless, a little more teasing. The poses so far have been pretty basic, and you've tried your best to emulate what you think a supermodel on the cover of Sports Illustrated would do. Based on Joel's responses - excited nods and gentle praises - you think you're doing a good job.

"Turn over now," he tells you with a playful grin, "Put that cute little ass in the air again for me."

It should be demeaning, the way he's talking to you. There's a lot about this situation that should be wrong, and yet you can't help but feel pride swell in your chest at his directions, his compliments. You do what he says, flipping over to dig your hands into the sand and arch your back, turning your head to eye the camera directly with a sultry little smile on your face.

"Perfect," he's murmuring, thumb tapping the screen like his life depends on it, "That's so perfect, honey." You listen to the fake little shutter sounds the phone makes, still wondering if he's even really a photographer. Would it even matter? Wouldn't you have still let him do this anyway?

With this new angle you can feel the loose strands of your bikini top starting to slip, unraveling at the back and trickling gently against your sides. You watch with what should be a worrying lack of urgency as it cascades down onto the sand below, leaving you topless.

He whistles low under his breath, "Well, would you look at that. The girls are out."

"That's an extra fifty," you say with a coy eyebrow raise, "Or else I cover them back up."

"Extra fifty, no problem" Joel echoes, "Can you shake your ass for me again, darlin'?"

You nod, tilting your head and peering back at him as you tighten and release your muscles with a giggle, basking in the way he stares at it, like it's a five course meal he's about to devour. You do it a few more times, arching your back a little more and spreading your thighs slightly to allow for more recoil, more jiggle. He makes an odd sound in the back of his throat and you grin.

"How much to take these off too?" he lowers the phone and peers at you with pleading eyes, brown and soft, "Huh? How much extra to show me this lil' peach, honey?"

You grimace, looking down at the sand and trying to calculate an appropriate cost in your brain. You bite your lip, "You know that's not the only thing that'll show."

"I know," he murmurs, eyes trailing downward again to eye your ass, still perched high and plump, "Your peach and your pussy then, how much?"

Fuck.

"I won't touch you," he promises softly, "You can just tug it down and show her to me, lemme see her up close, yeah?"

Her?

Her.

"Christ," you mumble under your breath. He's filthier than you thought, and not in a bad way - in a fucking hot way. "Another fifty," you decide, voice firm, "And... and I wanna see you put the money in my purse first. And no touching my... her."

"I can do that, sweetheart," he's already digging into his wallet and yanking out the money, opening your bag slightly to place it inside. It could be counterfeit for all you know; this whole thing really might be a completely worthless venture, and yet -

He watches as you reach backward to untie the strings of your bikini bottoms, doing it in one fell swoop and then spreading your thighs again, knees digging into the sand. You arch and press your face against your towel, feeling goosebumps rise all over your skin at the knowledge that he's staring at where you're now completely bare.

You hear him groan, a rough little sound that goes straight to your core, and a few little shutter sounds go off, "Now, that's a pretty little pussy you got there, baby."

Heat rises throughout your body, up through your chest and to your cheeks. You turn a little to look at him shyly, lashes fluttering when you see where his gaze has settled.

"Yeah?"

"Oh, honey, she's so pretty," he breathes, "She's all wet. Leakin' for me, you see that?"

You can't see it of course, but you can feel it; feel the way you're dripping, knowing that he can see it, has a 1:1 view of the way you throb and drool for him. This random old man who about twenty minutes ago you'd never spoken to in your life.

"And your little clit is sayin' hi to me too, babygirl, can see her pokin' out." Fuck. You squirm a little in place as his camera continues to go off, legs spreading a little more unconsciously as you tilt your head downwards and close your eyes. Your clit twitches under his stare.

"Swollen little thing," he breathes, barely loud enough to hear, "Perfect pussy."

Jesus Christ.

"Roll over for me again, sweetheart," you hear him say quietly, "Show me all those pretty parts."

You don't know why, but you whine a little at his words. It's subconscious, a burning desire you can't describe as you slowly flip over and lazily lay back on your towel to show him your entire naked body. He stands over you with his brow furrowed in a gentle kind of way, eyes appraising you up and down like you're some kind of goddess. And fuck, he's kind of making you feel like one.

"Legs open a little bit, baby, that's it." You obey, spreading your legs and looking up at him with lidded eyes, lips parting a little. You bring your arms up to rest behind your head and he takes note of the way your tits bounce for him, shivering back and forth beneath his gaze. "You're perfect," he murmurs, "You're absolutely perfect."

"Stop," you say, unable to stop a grin from spreading across your face, "M'not perfect."

"But you are, darlin'," he shakes his head, eyes full of wonder as he kneels down to get some closer pictures. You watch as he brings his phone down directly in front of your pussy, snaps a few close-ups of your puffy lips and swollen clit. "I'd love to kiss her, honey, if you'd let me."

"N-no," you say quickly, though your voice cracks, "No touching."

"I'll pay you extra," his eyes return to yours, locking your gazes, "You name it, baby. I'll pay anything to taste how sweet you are down here."

You look at him calculatingly, tilting your head. Anything?

"Two hundred," you practically whisper, "In the bag."

You're half expecting him to tell you that he's run out of money, that he couldn't possibly give you any more than the four hundred he's already blown on this. But he surprises you, reaching back into his pocket to grab his wallet and tug out the bills. It's like he has an endless supply, and you're beginning to wonder if maybe this is a hobby of his, something he prepares for, carries money around to be ready to spend on women like you. Maybe he's rich rich, has unlimited money to throw away, and this is just his weird perverted thing he does on the side of something else.

Maybe you should have asked for more.

But he's already kneeling back down into the sand and you're already opening your legs wider for him, allowing him to settle between them and lean his head forward to place his lips gently against your pussy. You watch with heavy lids as he kisses you so softly there, his mouth tender and inviting and deliciously scratchy from his scruff. Without really thinking about it, you reach down and run a hand through his curls, smiling a little fondly as he kisses you again, and again, and again.

"That feels nice," you breathe, watching as he continues to press incredibly slow and gentle kisses to your cunt in an almost respectful way, a reverent way.

"Good," he murmurs, lips vibrating against your core, "Want it to feel nice for you, baby."

You let out a soft moan the second his tongue breaches your folds, wet and warm. You watch as he closes his eyes and seems to get lost in it, tasting your pussy like it - or she, as he'd said - is some rare delicacy he's never indulged in before. He trails the tip of his tongue through the mess you've made, maneuvering your puffy lips and flicking it against your clit. Your hips buck and another moan slips out, quiet and pitiful.

"That's it," he murmurs against you with a little half smile, "So sweet for me, honey." He dives back in immediately and slowly plunges his tongue inside your entrance, fucking into you a few times before carefully pulling back and opening his eyes to peer up at you again. God, those brown eyes are fucking sinful. He gives you one more smile and then reaches down to grab his phone.

"Gonna get some more pics of this messy girl, okay?" he breathes, and you're a little startled when his left hand is suddenly coming down to touch you there, two fingers carefully scissoring you open. You don't say anything, too horny to protest, too intrigued to see what he's going to do. "Gotta open her up a little," he tells you softly, answering your unspoken question, "Wanna take a little peek at what she's hidin' inside her, baby."

A little whimper falls from your throat again as his fingers scissor you wider, holding you open and baring your hole to his camera. You can feel your walls twitching and pulsing, contracting and leaking; you can only imagine what it looks like. Your eyes roll a little when his middle finger taps your clit, another gush of arousal flooding past your opening.

"Look at this lil' hole, huh?" he's murmuring, but your eyes are closing and your head is falling back onto the towel as he plays with you, "Oh, she's alllll messy for me down here, baby. And it's no wonder your clit came out to see me, she loves gettin' played with, don't she?"

Christ, he knows how to talk. His words send another helpless little sound past your lips, thighs trembling as he slowly caresses your clit with his finger, pressing down on it with just the right amount of pressure.

"Aw, you're all sticky here again, baby," he whispers and you whine, feeling your juices dribble down toward your ass, "Shh, I'll take care of it," and then he's leaning back in to lap at your folds, a little faster this time, more desperate, "Tastes so good, pretty girl. So sweet."

He suckles your clit into his mouth and you let out a breathless moan, brow furrowing as he suctions the swollen nub and lets one of his fingers fall to slip inside your entrance. You're so close you can feel it, coiled inside and ready to snap at any moment, his thick index plugging you deliciously as his tongue swirls. You tighten around it, thighs squeezing a little around his head, and then-

He's pulling away, removing his mouth and finger. Your eyes flutter open and you watch as he stands up with a little groan, older age apparent in the way he clutches at his back and exhales once he's upright. You want to tell him to get back down here, finish what he started, but part of you feels like it'd almost be letting him win, somehow. This perverted creep on a public beach that's somehow managed to lure you away and get you naked, take photos of your body and eat your pussy. He doesn't deserve to have you beg for him - even if you want to.

"Can you stand up for me now, honey?" he tilts his head, squinting against the sun and smiling like he didn't just ruin your orgasm.

On shaky legs, you manage to pull yourself up from the sand and stand before him in all your naked glory, legs crossing a little as you squeeze your thighs together. He smirks but doesn't say anything about it, instead angling his phone toward you again and snapping some full length photos. You immediately do your best to go back into Sports Illustrated mode, posing a little and trying to ignore the ache between your legs, the relentless throb of where his mouth just was.

"Squeeze your tits together for me," he tells you, voice a bit deeper, rougher, full of arousal, "Cup 'em a little, show me those cute lil' nipples."

You do as he says, biting your lip and showing the camera exactly what he wants to see. Your nipples are peaked and hard, begging to be teased and tugged, but you refuse to do it yourself - you're not giving him the satisfaction, not after what he just pulled. He takes a few up-close pictures, camera so close to them that you shiver with sensitivity, the smallest bit of air from his movements causing them to tighten even more.

"Those are so beautiful, baby," he murmurs softly, gaze trailing upwards to meet yours, "Can I give 'em a kiss too?" God, his eyes are so fucking soft and sincere, like fucking boba pearls. You wonder if anyone's ever been able to say no to him.

You swallow, keeping eye contact, "For another fifty, sure."

He chuckles at that, "You drive a hard bargain, darlin'."

"I know what I'm worth."

He smiles, nodding slowly, "That, you do." He pulls out his wallet and slips another bill into your bag, then shuffles toward you again. You try to keep your breathing calm when one of his hands comes up to cradle your bare back, pulls you in a little bit as he lowers his mouth to your right nipple. With hazy eyes, you watch as he presses the softest little kiss to it, then does the same to the left.

Part of you wants to pull back and say that's it, that's all you get, just to see what he does, give him a taste of his own medicine. But then he's wrapping his lips around the pebbled bud and suckling, your eyes going glassy, jaw dropping a little as your hands come up to hold his shoulders. Your pussy throbs at the sensation, thighs rubbing together again as he suctions just the right amount and swirls his tongue all over the hard peak. It's impossible not to let a quiet moan fall past your lips, something he returns with a little mmhmm around your nipple, a wordless I know.

It feels so good that you feel your guard going down even more than it already has, feel your head falling forward to rest against his. His greying hair is so soft, so warm from the sun. You blink slowly and inhale, cheek smooshing into his temple as he sucks and sucks and sucks, then turns his attention to the other one. Little whimpers are tumbling past your lips, your hands squeezing and caressing his shoulders as you feel yourself starting to drip down your inner thighs.

It's so fucking intimate, much more intimate than you anticipated. And when he finally pulls away and comes back up to peer into your eyes again, leaving your nipples puffy and a little sore, you betray yourself by leaning forward to kiss him softly, tugging his bottom lip into your mouth and returning the favor with a little suckle. You feel him smile against you, the hand on your back tightening as he brings his other one up to tangle in your hair. His lips are plush and wet - a little chapped from what he's just done to your nipples - and he tastes like pussy.

It's fucking heavenly.

"I wanna show you somethin', babygirl," he murmurs against you after a moment, and you nod a little too quickly, a little pathetically. You're starting to realize that you're losing the battle here, if there ever even was one.

He pulls back a little, eyes still soft. You watch as he reaches down to his swim trunks and unties them, heart suddenly in your throat as he slips his hand inside and comes out with an absolutely beautiful dick. It's long and thick, rounded and full at the tip with an extremely suckable looking mushroom head, as well as a prominent vein trailing up his shaft that makes your mouth water. You both stare at it for a few seconds without speaking, your lips parting but no words coming to mind.

"You wanna take some pictures with my cock, honey?" he asks you quietly, and you think he's probably looking at your face now, watching your expression, but you're still just staring at his dick.

"W-what?"

"Just a few, like...well..." he shuffles forward a bit and very gently presses the warmth of his cock against your bare stomach, letting the tip sit just above your belly button, "Like this."

Your brain is blank.

"That okay?"

His cock is so heavy.

"Darlin'?"

And warm.

He pushes some of your hair behind your ear, cradles your face in his big hand, "I know, honey," he murmurs, "You just gotta say okay."

Okay?

"O-okay," you finally whisper.

"Yeah?"

Yeah. You think it but don't say it, can't say it. You feel beyond overwhelmed, eyes still glued to where his throbbing tip is smooshed into your belly. You can't stop looking at it, ogling it, awed by its impressiveness and girth, the way it leaks a little onto your skin. You've never seen a dick this pretty before. You almost forget that you're standing there without any clothes on, barely aware of the shutter sound as he snaps multiple pictures on his phone.

"Good girl," he murmurs softly, "That's a good girl, just look at it."

Every few seconds he repositions a little, pulling you in closer to capture the way his cock stands at attention between your bodies. Precum gurgles from the tip and makes a sticky mess in his happy trail, dribbling down onto your skin. Without thinking about it at all, completely unaware of even doing it, your arms are suddenly around his waist, holding him close with your gaze still locked onto his cock.

"Yeah, that's for you, baby," he tells you softly, grinding his hips a little bit against yours and essentially fucking his cock against your stomach, "You did that to me."

It's only when he suddenly takes a small step back, holds the base and angles it downward to gently prod the sticky head against your pussy lips, that you finally come to your senses.

"Wait," you gasp out, yanking yourself back from him and shaking your head, "W-wait a second."

"M'sorry," he says quickly, brow furrowing as he puts his hands up. His cock hangs from his trunks almost comically, bobbing up and down as he takes a step back, "Shoulda asked first."

"Y-yeah, you should've," your voice cracks, heat flooding your face, "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me just then, that was too far." Why the fuck are you apologizing to him?

"S'not too far," his words are gentle, alluring, "We're just havin' fun, aren't we honey? You were havin' fun, got lost in it. It's okay."

You take a breath, staring at him as you try to get your bearings. Were you having fun? Is this fun? What the fuck are you even doing right now? Your thoughts are cloudy, hazed with arousal and attraction to this complete stranger in front of you. Are you really gonna let this continue? Is it really worth it? Your gaze falls back to his cock and the question is almost answered for you.

"What am I doing?" you ask aloud, a breathless little laugh escaping your lips.

"You're just havin' fun with a new friend, s'all it is."

You raise an eyebrow at him, trying to ignore the way your hands tremble, "Is that what you are? My friend?"

"I'll be anything you want me to be, darlin'," his mouth turns up at the corners, eyes sparkling, "I sure would like to be your friend."

He peers at you for a moment, waiting for you to speak. Your mouth opens a few times but no words come out, your thoughts scrambled as you try to make heads or tails of this situation. You're suddenly painfully aware of the fact that you're still completely naked, and you quickly peek your head over the rock formation to make sure there's nobody nearby - there isn't.

Why are you checking?

"C'mere," Joel finally says, and you turn back to look at him with your lip between your teeth. He's standing there with his arms open a bit, cock still heavy between his legs. By all accounts, a fucking perv. And yet...

And yet.

Fuck it.

You're back in his embrace in no time, hooking your head over his shoulder and allowing his cock to press warmly into your skin again. You close your eyes and sigh as he brings one of his hands downward to squeeze your ass.

You know what he's going to ask before he even says it.

"Can I put it inside you, darlin'?" he murmurs softly, pleadingly, "Just to get a pic of your pussy all full?"

You don't say anything.

"Won't take more than a minute," he urges, "I promise, baby. Just wanna see it stretched around my cock. Don't you wanna see that, pretty girl? I'll pay extra, whatever you want."

More silence.

"I know you wanna see it," he's relentless, his other hand coming down to squeeze your other cheek and pull you impossibly closer, "You wanna feel that, don't you, baby? Big cock fillin' you up before you go?" His middle finger slides between your cheeks and settles at your pussy, slowly teasing your entrance, "Don't gotta do anything at all, just gotta stand here, we'll do it standin' honey."

"Standing?" you ask softly, pulling back to look at him with intrigue, and your response suddenly has him grinning from ear to ear as he slowly inserts his finger. You shiver, eyes fluttering closed as he fills you with it.

"Standin'," he repeats, "Just like this, baby, don't gotta do anything 'cept open your legs a little for me. You can do that, can't you?" The hand on your ass comes up to hold your chin; he pinches it gently between his finger and thumb and gives you another soft look as he starts to fuck you in earnest, "I know you can, 'cause you're a good girl, yeah?"

"Y-yeah," you breathe, arms tightening around his body.

"Yeah," he adds a second finger, smile faltering into a sympathetic pout when you let out another soft moan, "And you want that cock, don't you? I can see it all over your face, honey. Don't gotta pretend."

"I do," you whisper with a nod, swallowing thickly and trembling in his arms, "I want it, I do."

"So..." he's waiting for you to say the words, to tell him to go ahead and put it in, do what he wants, let him take control. His fingers are relentless inside of you now, plunging in and out at a speed you know he's purposely using to distract you, cloud your decision making.

Which is why his eyebrows go up in surprise when you're suddenly reaching down to grab tightly to his wrist, yanking his fingers out of your pussy in one swift pull.

"Three hundred," you state, "Take it or leave it."

To your surprise, his face alights with a gigantic smile, a deep laugh tumbling past his lips as he nods and digs his hand into his pocket, seeking his wallet one more time, "Yes, m'aam," he grins, "I'll take it."

You've never had sex standing up before. Not like this, face to face and completely upright with your feet planted on the ground. It's a little awkward at first, Joel having to crouch a little to align his hips with yours, one hand gripping your waist while the other grips his phone. God, this fucking phone. You're pretty sure you'll never wanna see a phone case with this ugly shade of cerulean blue again, let alone hear those obnoxious shutter sounds.

Your annoyance is quickly overpowered by the sensation of the warm head of Joel's cock pressing gently to your pussy. You look down to watch, lip between your teeth again as Joel snaps image after image of the way his tip crowds your outer lips, pushes them apart. You have to admit, it's certainly a sight to behold.

"Yeah, look at her open for me, baby," he's murmuring, thumbing the base as he slowly rubs his cockhead back and forth through your folds, "Bloomin' like a little flower."

The top of your head rests against his shoulder, face angled down to watch what he's doing. A tiny whimper falls from your lips when he very slowly eases the head of his cock inside of you, the stretch barely noticeable with how wet you are. He releases your hip to reach down and open your pussy lips with his thumb and forefinger, exposing where you're joined.

"Tell her to smile for the camera, babygirl," he whispers, and while part of you wants to roll your eyes, another part can't help but feel a gush of arousal at his words, soaking his cock even more, "Good, that's good."

He feeds his cock to you slowly, making sure to take as many pictures as he can. Little whines and squeaks erupt from your throat and your hands claw at his back, fingers tangling in the white crocheted material as he fills you up. It's only when he's fully sheathed inside of you that he suddenly tugs his trunks down a little more to expose his balls, heavy and round and full. You stare at them with a longing in your eyes you can't describe, lower lip trembling as you watch them bounce and settle against where you're joined.

"There you go," he murmurs, snapping one last picture before tossing his phone into the sand and bringing his hands up to cradle your back, pulling you close, "All done, baby, that's it."

Your toes curl in the sand as you embrace the feeling of being so full of him, his tip pulsing delicately inside the deepest parts of you. A distant thought in your brain wonders why he just threw his phone on the ground, but it doesn't seem to matter when you feel like this, so full and wet and warm, lost in a hazy glow. You bury your face in his shoulder, letting out quiet little whimpers as he pulls you in tighter. He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, seemingly reveling in the moment too as you stand there listening to the ocean waves, impaled on a stranger's cock.

"How's that feel, honey?" he asks you softly, thumbs tracing shapes along your bare back, "Hm? Feel good?" You don't answer, just nuzzle your face against his skin and let out another soft whine, hands clamoring underneath his shirt to grip his back. He chuckles, "Yeah, I know, baby."

You both stand there for what feels like forever, until you finally have enough sense to pull away from his shoulder and get a look at his face. He's watching you fondly, brow furrowed, eyes still incredibly soft and inviting. He really is gorgeous. Pervy, but gorgeous.

"You dropped your phone," you mumble, words faint and slightly slurred.

"Don't need it anymore," he murmurs, "Got my pictures."

"Then why are you still inside me?" you ask softly, eyelashes fluttering, "If you're done?"

He shrugs, smiling, "'Cause it feels good, don't it?"

You stare at him for a few seconds but end up nodding regardless, turning your face a little to peer over at the ocean, "It does," you admit, "Feels really good."

"Mmhmm," he kisses the top of your head again, then your temple, stroking his fingers through your hair. The way he touches you is reverent, delicate, like you're something fragile he needs to keep safe. It's not what you'd expected, that's for sure. But something you're not as sure about is what happens now, where you both go from here.

It doesn't take long for him to decide.

You feel his thumb on your clit, drawing your attention away from the ocean and back to his presence. You peer at him through bleary eyes, a dazed little smile curving your lips as he carefully rotates the swollen nub. His belly caresses yours, warm and soft, and you smile even wider.

"Feel good?" he asks you again - tender, kind.

"Yeah," you whisper.

The hand on your back comes up to cradle your hair, pulling you in close again and allowing you to rest your head against his smooth chest. You moan as his thumb picks up speed, the sound muffled by his tan skin.

"You want me to make you come, honey?" he murmurs, fingers brushing carefully through your hair, "You wanna come all over that big cock inside you?"

"Yeah," you repeat, a little broken this time, "W-wanna come."

"You've been so fuckin' good for me, you know that?" he breathes, barely a whisper, brow furrowed as he continues to rub your clit, "Posin' all pretty, showin' me that soft little pussy, lettin' me taste her," he gives a low whistle, shaking his head, "And now she's all full, huh? She full?"

You nod, eyes rolling a little, "Y-yeah." Apparently yeah is currently one of the only words in your vocabulary.

"She all messy for me?"

Again, you nod, expression blissful as you let out a moan, "Yes, Joel," you whimper, and you're pretty sure it's the first time you've said his name this whole time. It's like you've been trying to be disconnected from it, from him, and now suddenly he's everywhere; inside you, in front of you, above you - there's no escaping him. And you don't want to escape - what you want is him. Badly. Desperately.

He seems to realize this at the exact same time you do, the moment he hears his name fall from your lips. Which is why you're not surprised in the slightest by his next words.

"What if I wanted a pic of my cum leakin' outta this little pussy?" he whispers, mouth suddenly directly next to your ear, sending insane amounts of pleasurable tingles throughout your whole body, "Huh? How much would that cost? Tell me."

"You can't," you mumble, lightheaded, but you're lying to yourself, completely lost in the pleasure he's giving you, the movement of his thumb and the girth of his cock.

"Only take a few seconds, honey, m'already close," as he speaks, you feel his hips slowly begin to buck, cock pulling from you for only a moment before easing back in, making you shudder, "You don't gotta do nothin', 'cept show me how she drools when she's full. You can do that, can't you baby?"

"Joel," you whine again, eyes shut tight as you dig your toes into the sand, holding tight to his back as he slowly starts to fuck up into you. He's so big, so thick, plugging you full and then leaving you again, slow and warm. You can only imagine how it would feel to have him burst inside of you, to fill you to the brim.

"I wanna see her drool, honey," he murmurs, voice desperate again, full of arousal, "Wanna see her push it out."

"Fuck," you moan, high and whiney as you suddenly grip both sides of his face in your hands to peer directly into his eyes, "A thousand," you whimper, your hands clawing at his scruff as his hips pick up speed, as his hands fall to your waist and hold tightly as he starts to pound up into you, "A thousand and you can come in my pussy."

He presses his forehead against yours, lets out a guttural sound and then hisses, "Deal."

And for some reason, you believe him.

Getting pounded while standing upright is a fucking trip. His nails dig into the pebbled flesh of your hips, knees bending and unbending as his cock fucks up into you relentlessly without stopping or slowing. Your hands are still holding his face, eyes locked with his as your mouth pops open in a silent scream, thumbs digging into the apples of his cheeks. Holy fucking shit.

"I know, I know, I know," he's groaning, voice wild and unhinged, groans vibrating in his chest, "Fuckin' take it, s'what you were made for, honey. Knew it the second I saw you, knew you were gonna go wild on that dick."

"Please," you moan out, tears pricking in your eyes, the sensations almost too much to bear, "Please, please." You don't even know what you're begging for, thoughts muddled as you release his face and wind your arms around his neck, "Keep fucking me, keep fucking me, don't stop, please."

"I got you, honey, I got you," you feel his thumb return to your clit as he speaks, the sounds of your skin slapping together almost rivalling the sound of the ocean waves, "You gonna come, pretty girl? Huh? You gonna cream on my cock?"

"Yes," you practically squeal, and before you can really process what you're doing you're suddenly jumping up from the sand to wrap your legs around Joel's waist, ankles tangling together behind his back. He has no issue shifting positions, his arm cradling you and holding you in the air while his thumb continues to ravage your clit. You feel it building in your stomach, tightening more and more with the insistent pressure of his thumb and the continuous thrusts of his dick hitting your cervix over and over.

"Ohh, I feel her, baby," he groans in your ear, "Sloppy little cunt wants to make another mess, doesn't she?" And that's all it takes for your orgasm to hit you, your legs squeezing tighter and tighter and tighter around Joel's body as you moan and whine and cry, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and shaking in his arms. It's like having the wind knocked out of you, arguably one of the best orgasms you've ever had in your life, your eyes rolling back into your head as you sob into his neck.

"Joel," you whimper, pussy pulsing repeatedly around his dick through the aftershocks, "Joel, come inside her, please."

"Oh, fuck."

You feel it then, the twitch of his cock and the warm ropes of his release pumping into you. You sigh almost dreamily, burying your face in his shoulder and listening as he groans, feeling the way his fingertips dig into the soft plush of your ass. It's steady - there's so much more than you thought there'd be, and the sensation is enough to make you whimper again, murmuring his name one more time as he empties himself.

You stay like that for a moment, the ocean loud in your ears, all other sounds seemingly drowned out by the hiss of sea against rock and sand. Eventually, he carries you a few steps to your towel, your ears ringing and his body trembling a little as he carefully lowers you down. You let go of him a bit reluctantly, a pout on your lips as he lays you out and then slowly pulls himself from you with a wet squelch.

"Good girl," he's murmuring - you realize he's been saying it the whole time - "Good girl, that's it, open your legs."

There's no hesitance at all anymore, not after that. You open your legs wide with abandon and sit up on your hands, watching with heavy lids as he grabs his phone from where he'd discarded it, bringing it down to your leaking pussy.

"Look at that," he breathes, awestruck, and your eyes trail downward to see what he sees. You feel heat return to your cheeks when you see the way his creamy white release is slowly beginning to dribble out of you and onto the towel.

"Wow, that's a lot," you whisper with a faint little giggle, eyes coming back up to look at his face as he watches it drip. You're not sure he hears you, intensely focused on where you're swollen and leaking, but you don't mind. You push back lazily on your hands and smile fondly at him as he takes his precious photos. In the afterglow, you find that the shutter sounds aren't that annoying, not really.

"Open her up for me, baby," he tells you softly, "Spread her wide and push it out."

You sit up a little, feeling drowsy and dreamy as you reach down and pull yourself open with your hands. You apply a little pressure, closing your eyes in a daze and hearing the wet little sounds as you push his cum out of you and onto the towel. You hear him groan, hear the shutter sounds again, and you can't help but grin.

"Are they good?" you ask him, genuinely wondering, "Is she pretty?" As you speak you pull yourself a little wider, allow him to take one more picture as close inside as possible before he pulls it away.

He looks up from his handiwork with that familiar soft smile on his face again, brown eyes shimmering in the sun that's already beginning to set, "You're perfect," he tells you, "And don't argue with me, I just gave you almost two thousand dollars."

You snort, releasing yourself and falling backwards onto the towel to stare up at the sky. Your limbs feel heavy, eyelids drooping as you watch Joel in your periphery slipping his soft cock back into his trunks, as well as his phone.

"It's real money, right?" you ask, a little unsure.

"I promise it's real money," he says with a chuckle, walking over to stand over you, "D'you wanna come back to my hotel with me and get cleaned up? Maybe have some more fun?"

You bite your lip, "Would you pay me?"

"I'd pay you."

Admittedly, as reality begins to wash over you, the idea doesn't sound anywhere near as appealing as it might have an hour ago. With a little effort, you sit up again and reach for your bikini, half buried in the sand near your feet.

"Nah, I think I'm good."

Joel reaches his arm down and you take it, letting him help you to your feet. As you put your bikini back on, you watch with a little smile as he digs the rest of your money out of his wallet, slipping it into your purse like it's just second nature at this point - which, it basically is. He stands there then, a little awkwardly, like he's not sure what to say.

"Well, uh, thank you, darlin'," he finally says, taking a step back and nodding toward you with a kind expression, "Not many girls would have, um... not many would've done this. I'd offer you my number, but I get the feeling that's not what this is."

You wince, shaking your head, "Yeah, this, uh- this isn't gonna go anywhere, sorry. But it was fun."

He nods, "It was. And, I mean, those pictures aren't just gonna collect dust, I can tell you that much."

You laugh, walking forward a little to pick up your bag. You stop in front of him and, after hesitating for only a moment, lean forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. Just a peck - a goodbye.

"Have a good rest of your summer," you tell him as you pull away, heat rising in your cheeks again as he looks at you with those beautiful eyes, "And uh- maybe try to be a little more covert with that camera."

This time it's his turn to blush, his cheeks tinging a dark shade of pink as he laughs and tosses you a wave, turning to begin walking away from you. He only makes it a few steps, and then-

"Hey, Joel?"

He turns on the spot, a hopeful look in his expression that makes you wonder, if only for a moment, that maybe you're making the wrong choice.

"You're not really a photographer, are you?"

His blush deepens, a look of embarrassment crossing his features, "No, I'm not. But after today, I just might try my hand at it."

[orodaeh]

STOP my MIND... I just see Joel Miller and MEEEEEEEEE!!!!

Picture by lalala on Pinterest

[orodaeh]

He drinks and I DROOL... developed principle since FOREVER. Hihihihihi...

Picture by Megan on Pinterest

[orodaeh]

Just old pics of Pedro making me go FERALLLLLLL. DON'T LOOK at ME like that PEDRO...

Picture by kate on Pinterest

[orodaeh]

"If your girl is watching 'The Last of us' and 'The Mandalorian' that ain't your girl. That's PEDRO PASCAL'S GIRL.". Read that somewhere and I have never agreen MORE. Oopsss, so WHAT. I'd love to get called Pedro's girlyyyy for a lifetime and back again.

Pictures by ḍoræ on Pinterest

[orodaeh]

Let me tell you something... LET ME tell you something... LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING. I am in love. And no other is at fault but José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal. He has no business being SO DAMN CUTE... He is giving dbf! and bf! vibes and I am SO down for it...

Pictures by ḍoræ on Pinterest

[orodaeh]

Okay, but listen to me. Apart from the undeniable HOTNESS he constantly radiates… he seems to have such a pure heart. I SO hope he receives the same kindness he gives - no, actually, a lot more! I hope he meets countless kind-hearted people and receives love and passion in the same way he so generously gives to others. And yes, I know some of you will say, "GIRL, you don’t even know him personally," but I truly believe I can recognize a kind, pure, and moral heart (or at least, I hope I can hihihihii!). <3 :)

Picture by ads on Pinterest

[orodaeh]

You CANNOT expect me NOT to post about this man and NOT TO FREAK OUT OVER him! HELLO, PEDRO... don't judge me but I am alllllll over you...

Pictures by ḍoræ on Pinterest

[orodaeh]

Okay honestly FUCK OFF... how can he be so hot and cute at the same time. GOD send me a Pedro Pascal right now... i need him. God took his time with him...

Pictures by Trudiebooth and Sarah on Pinterest

[orodaeh]

Saw this pic and thought of dad's bestfriend whom you have known since your childhood and now you are grown up and are taking a vacation... your dad had to call off the vacation for himself because of work or something. But YOU still get to go: only with Joel. OBSESSED<333

Picture by Artemis on Pinterest

[orodaeh]

Can you guess who that is...? No need, I mean who am I kidding. I could in my sleep... AHHHHH this man... this is by far one of my favorite picsssssss...

Pictures by some people on Pinterest

(sorry i don't get this new update, can't find my way around Pinterst anymore...)

OKAY sooo, I have started writing a piece and it's called 'The old one by the sea'. Well it's gonna be a series and I am gonna start publishing it when I have written chapter 3 so you don't have to wait for a long time for the other chaps. Can't waitt and sending hugs to everyone. :)) <3

[orodaeh]

This man has risen my standards too high... making me say "walk, you're not Pedro Pascal"...

Pedro Pascal on Pinterest by Tumblr