sluttapes

[sluttapes]

⌞ 𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ⌝

matthew bernard sturniolo

ㆍ𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘦𝘹ㆍ𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘮ㆍ𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦ㆍ𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘦𝘹ㆍㆍ𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘷𝘶𝘭𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺ㆍ

▸ tape length — 721

you’re panting, again. faster than you have in a while. hips slamming down on matt like it’s your last goddamn chance to forget everything outside this room. the night is humid, window cracked open but the air’s not moving. you’re both sweating, sheets kicked somewhere onto the floor, mattress groaning with every motion. matt’s hands are on your hips, tight. tight like he’s bracing himself, or trying to keep you there. but he’s not trying to stop your unusually brutal pace. not anymore.

he’s let you use him like this before. over and over. for weeks now, it’s been like this. but lately, it’s been only this.

you grind down hard, head thrown back, mouth parted, and the only sounds in the room are your breathy moans and the wet slap of skin meeting skin. no talking. no teasing. not anymore. you don’t want any of that. you don’t want to hear your name from his mouth, soft and gentle like it means something.

you just want it gone. everything. the pressure. the thoughts. the ache behind your ribs from the struggles of life that won’t go away. so you ride him faster. rougher. like maybe if you move hard enough, fast enough, you’ll shut the voices up. the worry, the worthlessness, the fucking noise.

but it’s not working.

matt’s beneath you, panting hard, brow furrowed like he’s trying to figure out if this is really happening the way it feels. he twitches inside you and it should make you moan, should make you close your eyes and lose it, but instead—instead, your pace falters.

your body stutters. legs shaking, not from pleasure this time, but from the sob that’s trying to push its way up your throat. you squeeze your eyes shut like that’ll stop it.

but it doesn’t.

a tear slips out. then another. you go still. still as a statue, sitting on top of him with your hands braced on his chest, your own chest heaving. your walls flutter around him — the aftershocks of what could’ve been pleasure. matt leans up slightly, one hand leaving your hip to press against your spine, holding you steady. you don’t look at him. can’t.

“hey,” he says, voice quiet, breathless. “what’s going on?”

you shake your head. wipe your face with the back of your hand and sniff, trying to pull yourself together.

“i’m fine,” you mutter, but your voice cracks halfway through.

his other hand moves from your hip to your jaw. tilts your face down gently, not forcing — just coaxing. your eyes meet his and it makes it worse.

because he’s not mad. he’s not smirking or smug or saying “i told you something was wrong.”

he just looks at you like you’re fragile. like he wants to fix something he doesn’t know how to.

“you’re not fine,” he says softly. “you don’t do this when you’re fine.”

you want to shove his hands away, get off him, go curl up somewhere alone. but you don’t move. you stay there, half-naked, still straddling him, tears slipping silently down your cheeks, throat burning.

“just…” you whisper, voice shaking. “i wanted to feel something else. that’s all.”

his eyes flicker, and you feel his chest rise slowly beneath you.

“you are feeling something else,” he says. “you just didn’t expect it to be this.”

you laugh, bitter and small. “yeah. surprise.”

he brushes your hair back from your face, fingers delicate in a way you didn’t ask for but can’t bring yourself to pull away from.

“why didn’t you tell me?” he asks.

you sniff again. wipe your nose with the back of your hand.

“because it’s easier to fuck you than talk.”

you expect him to laugh. or roll his eyes. or say something sarcastic like he used to.

but he doesn’t.

he just pulls you in. leans up and wraps his arms around you, your chest against his, your chin hooked over his shoulder, and he’s still inside you. warm. solid. real. and it’s the quietest your mind’s been in days. you don’t say thank you. you don’t need to. he gets it. he’s always gotten it. even when you pretend he doesn’t.

you close your eyes, let the tears fall freely this time. let yourself breathe, finally. and for once, you’re not running. you’re just… held.

🎞️ — @tits4matt @loser41ifee @sweetshuga @nickysturnss @courta13 @sophsturns @starsforu @h3arts4nat @emely9274 @chestersturn @watercolorskyy @httpssturns @cherryystemm @adoremattsturns @jaybirdie34 @sturnspecial @secretaccountx5 @ivysturnss @fmalewokk @zenithsturniolo @iloveduckssm @facetimemethatpussy3 @iloveduckssm @mattsturnioloswife01

[sluttapes]

I’m gonna need a part two to tape six pleaseeee

oh dear 🥹 ima try and work on one, no promises tho. :(

[sluttapes]

⌞ 𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 ⌝

christoper owen & matthew bernard sturniolo

ㆍ𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘪-𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘴𝘦𝘹ㆍ𝘷𝘰𝘺𝘦𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘮ㆍ𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨ㆍ𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬ㆍ𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯ㆍ𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴ㆍ𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘺𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘺ㆍ𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴ㆍ

▸ tape length — 2.7k

you’re in the backseat with chris. the sun’s gone down, but the heat of the day still clings to your skin, sticky and warm from the beach. your thighs are bare beneath your skirt, and you’re sitting on your boyfriend’s lap, hands fighting to keep your body up against the back of the drivers seat, like it’s nothing. like it’s casual. like you’re not full of him right now.

the car is full. matt’s driving. the rest of your guys’s friends packed into the front and middle rows. laughter bouncing around the space. the music’s loud. everyone’s talking over each other, drunk on ocean air and cold drinks. but you’re barely there — barely breathing. every time the car hits a bump, your body jolts, just a little, just enough. just enough to make chris shift under you, his cock buried so deep inside you it’s maddening. his hands are on your hips under your skirt, holding you down like he knows you’ll fall apart if you move even an inch more. you bite your lip hard. try not to make a sound. try not to let the whimper rising up your throat escape.

you can feel his breath against your neck, the way he’s laughing softly every time you tense up. so amused. so fucking pleased. his lips graze the shell of your ear, voice a whisper, “you’re doing so good, baby. so fuckin’ good for me.”

you try to act like nothing’s happening. like your heart isn’t hammering in your chest. like you’re not completely at his mercy, stuffed full and trembling with every subtle shift of the road. and then — your eyes lift. the rearview mirror.

matt.

his gaze is already on you, and your breath catches. he’s not watching the road. he’s watching you. watching your fucked out face, the way your brows pinch together, lips parted, teeth sinking into the soft swell of your bottom lip. and he’s not looking away. but there’s no shock. no disgust. nothing even close.

just that smirk.

the same damn one chris is wearing against your neck.

matt licks his lips slowly, adjusts his grip on the steering wheel, shifts in his seat like he’s the one losing composure, like this is getting to him too. and it is. you can see it.

he wants to be the one under you. wants to be the one making your eyes roll back, the one pressing bruises into your hips, the one feeling your pussy clench around his dick while you fall apart.

and then it hits — another bump.

just enough friction. just enough pressure. your muscles tighten around chris, and your head falls back against his shoulder, body shaking slightly as you come, silently, desperately, right there in the backseat. your hands clench into the fabric of the seat. chris lets out a low groan, muffled in your hair. but all you can focus on — are matt’s eyes.

still locked on you.

still burning. still wanting.

✰ ✰ ✰

the house is quiet now. all the voices are gone, the front door long shut, and your legs are still trembling. chris is upstairs in the shower. the water’s been running for minutes no — too hot, too loud. you can hear the hum of it echoing down the hall. matt’s downstairs with you.

the tension sits heavy between you, thick and unspoken, like smoke in the air, curling under your skin. he hasn’t said a word since the others left. just leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching you with that same look you caught in the mirror. and you shouldn’t be here. not alone with him. not with your heart still racing from earlier, not with your thighs sticky, your body still sore from chris. but you didn’t go upstairs. you stayed. because maybe you wanted this.

maybe he did, too.

you’re standing near the sink, hands gripping the edge like it’ll keep you steady. but it doesn’t. nothing does. not with the way matt keeps looking at you. like he knows everything. like he felt it.

“so.” his voice cuts through the silence, low and smooth. “you like showing off, huh?”

your stomach drops. you don’t answer, you can’t.

his footsteps are slow when he moves toward you. careful. measured. like he’s hunting something fragile. like he doesn’t want to break it yet.

“sitting in his lap like that…” he chuckles under his breath, tongue wetting his lips again. “lookin’ into the fuckin’ mirror like that while i drove. thinking i wouldn’t notice?”

your throat dries out.

“matt—”

“nah,” he says sharply, cutting you off, stepping closer until your back hits the counter and he’s right in front of you. “you wanted me to see, didn’t you?”

his fingers ghost over your thigh. just a brush. not enough. but it sends heat spiking through your spine.

“you were so quiet, sweetheart.” he murmurs. “trying to be so good. but your face gave it away. every single fucking bump in the road.”

your breath stutters. his hand slides up higher, under your skirt. your mouth opens — maybe to stop him, maybe to beg for more — but nothing comes out. just a shaky exhale.

“what’s wrong?” he mocks, voice darker now, huskier. “not so cocky without chris under you?”

you hate how much your body reacts to it. to him. to the way he corners you, how his palm presses into the counter beside your hip, how close his mouth is to yours now.

“he’s not here right now,” matt says, breath hot against your cheek. “you know that. i know that. we’ve got time.”

you shake your head, barely. he sees it, but he doesn’t move away.

his eyes drag across your face, searching, dark and dangerous. “you came while looking at me, hm?”

your lips part in shock. you try to deny it — try to shake your head again — but he laughs under his breath like he already knows the answer.

“you looked so pretty,” he whispers. “so fuckin’ desperate. squirming on his cock while i watched. and now you’re still here. soaked through. letting me talk to you like this.”

you whisper his name. a plea. maybe a warning. he brushes his nose against your jaw, lips not quite touching your skin, his voice barely there.

“say the word,” he breathes. “and i’ll stop. but if you don’t—i swear to god, i’ll fuck you so good you’ll forget who got you off in that backseat.”

a beat passes. your pulse pounds in your ears. upstairs, the water shuts off. you freeze, but matt doesn’t.

his hand stays beneath your skirt, fingers ghosting against your inner thigh. “don’t worry,” he says, voice low and calm, like he hasn’t cornered you in your own skin. “he won’t be down for a while.”

you open your mouth to say something — anything — but before you can speak, the water starts again. you exhale, but it’s shaky. unsure.

matt notices. “see?” he smirks. “plenty of time.”

your nerves spark again. you’re not thinking straight — not with the way his body’s brushing yours, not with his fingers dancing so close to where you still ache from earlier. he’s not even touching you properly and yet your knees feel weak. your chest’s too tight.

he leans in again. “you always act like i don’t get to you,” he murmurs against your neck, teeth grazing the skin there. “but you’re melting right now. just like i knew you would.”

your pride wants to fight back. scream at him. push him off, but your body betrays you. your hips shift forward. your fingers curl around the edge of the counter. you hate the way your breath shakes, hate the way your skin burns under his hands. matt pulls back just a little, tilting his head, studying you.

“look at you, sweetheart.” he mutters, eyes flicking over your face. “always so mouthy. so smug. but now?”

he brushes his knuckles up the inside of your thigh, barely touching you. “now you can’t even look me in the eye.”

your mouth parts. something breaks inside you — some mask, some defense you always had around matt. he always got under your skin, but you never let him see it. not like this. never like this. and suddenly — a shift.

matt pulls back, just a few inches. you blink, and then you hear it.

a quiet step.

you turn around, and chris is standing in the doorway. not dripping. not wet. he’s dry, fully clothed. he’d never gotten in the shower in the first place. your stomach drops. his arms are crossed, shoulder leaned casually against the frame. his eyes are fixed on you. no emotion in them. just… heat. calculation. amusement.

your lips part in stunned silence. “chris—”

he doesn’t move. doesn’t speak. just watches you. watches how you freeze, how the realization hits, how every wall you built around yourself is suddenly crumbling. matt doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even seem surprised.

he leans down to your ear, lips barely grazing the skin. “told you we had time,” he whispers. “didn’t say he wouldn’t watch.”

you feel sick, and turned on, and so deeply out of control you can’t breathe. chris finally steps into the room. slow. calm.

“you always act so fuckin’ tough,” he says, voice like velvet over broken glass. “but look at you now.”

his gaze drops to where matt’s hand still rests on your thigh.

“told you she’d fold,” matt says to him, not even pretending anymore.

“yeah,” chris murmurs. “didn’t think she’d do it this fast though.”

you hate how true it is. hate how your thighs tremble. how your lips are parted, chest rising and falling way too fast. how their eyes devour you.

chris walks up, lifts your chin, forces your eyes on his. “you gonna let him finger you right here in the kitchen?” he asks, voice low, words sharp. “after i spent all day keeping you full, keeping you satisfied?”

you don’t answer, you can’t.

his thumb brushes your bottom lip. “maybe i should just watch.”

he says it like a threat. but the worst part?

you want him to.

you want both of them to keep going, and they know that now. matt’s hands slide higher again. and this time, you don’t stop him.

you don’t say a word. your lips stay parted. your body tenses, but you don’t move away, and that’s all the permission matt needs. his fingers slide beneath your underwear — slow, deliberate. two of them dip through your folds, and his breath catches when he feels how wet you still are.

“fuck,” he mutters, almost to himself. “you’re dripping.”

chris is still next to you. standing close. watching everything. his arms are folded across his chest again, but his jaw flexes as matt eases a finger into you. you gasp — soft and sharp, head tipping back against the cabinet.

“don’t look at him,” matt says, voice rough near your ear. “look at me.”

you try. god, you try. but chris is still there, still burning into you, and your body is already shaking from the way matt curls his finger inside you with practiced precision. he knew what he was doing. they both did. you realize it then — the glances, the teasing, the way matt always pushed your buttons while chris sat back and let it happen. this wasn’t new.

it was a game.

one you didn’t even know you were playing.

“you should see her face,” matt says, low, smirking as he curls fingers. “that smug little attitude she always has? gone.”

chris finally speaks. “yeah?”

you hear his steps — slow, deliberate — and when you look up again, he’s closer now. watching over your shoulder as matt works you open with his fingers.

“her thighs are shaking,” matt murmurs, eyes locked on your face. “squeezin’ around me already.”

you hate the way your body reacts to the words. hate how right he is. you moan — too loud —and chris reaches out, grabs your jaw, turning your face toward him.

“keep it down,” he warns, eyes sharp. “you were so good at being quiet in the car. you can do it again.”

matt’s fingers pick up speed, slick sounds obscene in the quiet kitchen. his thumb brushes your clit and your whole body jerks, thighs pressing together. he leans into you, lips brushing your ear.

“you wanna cum already?” he asks, laughing darkly. “that easy, huh?”

you nod—helpless.

chris tilts your chin higher, more to the side. eyes narrowing. “what happened to that lil attitude now, huh?” he asks, low and cruel. “matt gets his fingers in you and you forget who you belong to?”

you whimper — because yes, you still belong to him. but matt’s fingers feel too good. too deep. and you’re getting there too fast.

“she’s so close,” matt mutters, voice low and tight. “can feel it.”

“let her.” chris says, letting go of your jaw, stepping back just enough to watch. “but she’s not gonna come until she looks at me.”

matt’s pace slows. dangerously slow. enough to edge you, to drive you mad. you try to chase the high, hips rocking, desperate.

“look at him,” matt breathes, fucking his fingers into you deeper. “go on. he said look.”

your head turns on instinct, eyes snapping to chris. he’s watching you. every single twitch of your face, every shaky breath leaving your lips. you meet his stare — and your orgasm hits you immediately. it crashes through you fast, sharp and messy, thighs clenching, back arching, a cry choking out of you before you can swallow it. matt keeps his fingers moving through your orgasm, dragging it out, dragging you out — until you’re a trembling mess on his fingers, clinging to the edge of the counter like it’ll hold you together.

chris steps closer, fingers brushing against your shoulder as he moves your hair out of the way, lips grazing your neck. “attagirl, there you go, baby.” he whispers.

and then his mouth is on your skin. hot, wet — while matt’s fingers keep going.

your breath stutters. your thighs are shaking, and finally, just as chris pulls back, matt’s fingers slip from your body, soaked. and for a second, no one speaks. no one moves. the only sound is the hum of the house and the wild pace of your breathing as you try to remember how to stand, how to think. his hand lingers against your skin — like he’s not ready to let go.

he pulls away from you, and your knees nearly buckle from the loss of pressure, the heat of his body gone. your hand catches the edge of the counter again, grounding you. barely. matt steps back without a word. he looks at you like he’s still inside you. like he could be again, if he wanted. the ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, like he’s satisfied with the way he’s left you. ruined, wrung out, breathless.

and chris — chris just watches you.

quiet.

his jaw is tight. his hands flex at his sides like he’s deciding what to do next. his stare isn’t soft — it’s sharp, possessive. and under it, you shrink. not out of fear, but something else. something deeper. guilt. shame. need.

you can’t even meet his eyes.

he moves closer, slow and deliberate, until he’s right in front of you. his fingers brush your chin again, tilting your head up.

“you came on his fingers,” he says softly.

not a question, a statement.

you nod.

“and now you’re gonna sit with that,” he murmurs. “until i decide what to do with you.”

your breath catches. he leans in — not to kiss you, not to comfort — just to whisper against your lips, “this ain’t over, baby.”

and with that, he steps away. doesn’t touch you again. just turns toward the hallway. matt doesn’t follow, he just wipes his fingers off on the hem of his shirt, smirking under his breath. you stand there, pulse still racing, heart caught somewhere between guilt and want, legs still trembling from the way matt’s fingers wrecked you.

you came on matt’s fingers, and chris let you.

but, apparently, this wasn’t over.

🎞️ — @tits4matt @loser41ifee @sweetshuga @nickysturnss @courta13 @sophsturns @starsforu @h3arts4nat @emely9274 @chestersturn @watercolorskyy @httpssturns @cherryystemm @adoremattsturns @jaybirdie34 @sturnspecial @secretaccountx5 @ivysturnss @fmalewokk @zenithsturniolo @iloveduckssm @facetimemethatpussy3 @iloveduckssm @mattsturnioloswife01

[sluttapes]

⌞ 𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐱⌝

christoper owen & matthew bernard sturniolo

𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦ㆍ𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘮!𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵ㆍ𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘥𝘰𝘮!𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴ㆍ𝘴𝘶𝘣!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳ㆍ𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹ㆍ𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦-𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨ㆍ𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 ㆍ𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴ㆍ𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨ㆍ𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨ㆍ𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨ㆍ𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘴𝘮𝘴ㆍ𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘱𝘪𝘦ㆍ

𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴

▸ tape length — 2.6k

the living room was dim, the kind of lazy, golden light that made everything feel softer than it was. some late-night show murmured in the background, forgotten, the only real sound the occasional click of chris’s lighter and the soft hum of your phone. you were curled into the couch between them—chris sprawled out to your left, his bare knees brushing yours, and matt to your right, leaning back with a can of soda in hand and that usual unreadable look on his face. it’d been quiet for a while, comfortable, familiar. nick was out somewhere, and the night had settled into the kind of calm where conversations twist in ways they’re not supposed to. you didn’t expect the edit on your fyp to be the thing that cracked it open. but there it was. an old video—one of those q&a’s where a fan had asked, “who would win in a threesome?”

you snorted, volume low, thumb pausing on the screen. “do you think there’d be a winner?” you asked it like a joke, letting the phone drop to your thigh.

matt shrugged, noncommittal. “i dunno. weird thing to wanna win.”

but chris? chris just grinned, eyes lighting up with that cocky spark he wore too damn well. “me. easy.”

matt looked over, brows lifting. “what?”

“you heard me,” chris said, stretching, the hem of his shirt lifting just enough to show toned stomach. “you’re too careful. you’d overthink it. i don’t think you know how to really make a woman feel good.”

you laughed, hand over your mouth, but matt straightened up, scoffing.

“what, you sayin’ i can’t make a woman cum or some shit?” he snapped, half-serious now, jaw tightening.

“i’m sayin’ i’d get there first,” chris replied, smirking. “and she’d remember me more.”

they started bickering, voices rising, throwing half-serious jabs, and you leaned your head back on the couch, groaning.

“not like y’all would ever even have a threesome. i’m sure that shit’s weird, no?”

silence. heavy and immediate. you blinked, glancing between them.

matt’s voice broke it, quiet but pointed. “you ever had a threesome?”

you went still. eyes shifted your way—first matt’s, then chris’s. you swallowed, suddenly too aware of the space between your legs, the way the air thickened.

“…no,” you answered, and you hated how soft it came out.

chris tilted his head, his smirk dropping into something slower. heavier. “you want to?”

your mouth parted. nothing came out. and you didn’t know how it escalated from there, not really. it was a blur. touches that lingered too long, glances that grew darker, bolder. and now—now you were perched on chris’s lap, his shirt gone, bare chest warm against your back, and matt was in front of you, kneeling on the floor, steady hands guiding your hips as he lowered you slowly onto his brother’s cock. your breath caught, lips parted, heart pounding so hard it ached.

chris groaned behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you steady. “fuck—shit—so tight,” he breathed into your shoulder.

matt looked up at you, brows drawn, fingers digging into your thighs as you sank deeper. “you okay?” his voice was quieter than before, a little hoarse, like he was trying not to lose it already.

you nodded, shaky, eyes locked on his. your hands found his shoulders, gripping tight.

“yeah,” you whispered. “just… fuck.”

“you sure?” matt asked again, but this time his thumbs smoothed circles into your skin.

you nodded again, this time with more certainty. and when chris rolled his hips up from below, and matt leaned in to kiss you—soft at first, then hungrier—you stopped thinking entirely. your whole body trembled, hands braced weakly against matt’s thighs, face buried there as your chest heaved in time with every slow, deep thrust chris gave you from beneath. he was relentless, cock buried so deep inside you it was like he wanted to live there, dragging whimpers out of you every time his hips snapped up into yours.

“you’re so sensitive, jesus, kid,” chris groaned against your back, voice rough and laced with disbelief. “when’s the last time you got laid?”

“chris.” matt’s tone was sharp, standing now, his hand curling gently at the back of your neck. protective.

but chris only groaned louder, your walls fluttering around him with no warning. “no, m’ serious. she’s fuckin’ clamping down on my dick like crazy—shit—”

you cried out a breath, shaky and broken, forehead pressing tighter against matt’s thigh as your body jolted with the force of chris’s sudden buck up into you. the stretch, the fullness, the heat—it was all too much. had been too much since it started.

“i thought you were messin’ round with that dude you were friends with?” matt asked, his voice gentler than his brother’s, but teasing all the same, eyes focused on the way you squirmed.

you barely managed a reply, voice thin, fucked-out. “o-only sucked him—off.”

chris scoffed behind you, hands digging into your hips. “he didn’t even fuck you or nothin’?”

“chris.” matt again, firmer this time, but it barely registered through the pounding in your head, the building pressure curling deep inside you.

“w-we were—fuck—we were pretty drunk,” you managed, breath hitching when chris angled his hips up again, hitting something that made your vision flash white.

“pretty irresponsible,” matt murmured, his voice dropping lower as he hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his sweats. he pulled them down slowly, his cock already half hard, his gaze never leaving your face.

“matt, you gonna keep fuckin’ lecturing her,” chris grunted through his teeth, thrusting into you harder now, “or you gonna fuck her mouth?”

matt let out a breath of a laugh, one hand brushing a thumb along your bottom lip as you looked up at him, pupils blown wide, drool shining at the corner of your mouth.

“m’ gettin’ there.”

and with that, he stepped forward, guiding his cock to your lips, tapping it lightly once—twice—against your tongue. you opened up for him like instinct, like need, moaning as he slid inside, slow and deep. now you were full in every sense of the word—chris fucking up into you from below, matt filling your throat with quiet groans above. you didn’t stand a chance. matt’s hand settled at the back of your head, fingers gentle but firm as he guided you down on his cock, inch by inch, until your lips were flushed against his skin. he let out a low hiss, thumb brushing soothingly along your cheek as you whimpered around him, tears already brimming in your lashes from how deep he was.

“that’s it,” he whispered, soft and full of praise. “doin’ so good for me, baby.”

behind you, chris was the complete opposite—rough hands gripping your hips like he owned them, holding you still just to drive up into you with bruising, punishing thrusts. the stretch burned, your whole body tensing with every slap of skin against skin, but you couldn’t pull away even if you wanted to. not with the way chris groaned every time you fluttered around him. not with the way matt was stroking your cheek so gently like you were fragile, even with his cock shoved down your throat.

“fuck, look at you,” chris grunted, breath hot against your shoulder. “droolin’ all over matt’s cock while i’m fuckin’ that pretty pussy.”

you whined around matt, choking slightly when chris bucked up harder, your throat constricting. matt’s other hand came up immediately, soothing over your jaw, easing you back just an inch so you could breathe.

“slow, chris,” he warned, voice still calm but firmer now. “she’s not a toy.”

“she’s takin’ it,” chris snapped, though his thrusts faltered for just a second. “pussy’s so wet, she’s fuckin’ beggin’ for it.”

he slapped your ass, hard, and you yelped around matt’s cock, choking slightly again. matt cupped your face, shushing you softly, easing you off him just enough so you could breathe again. “you okay, sweetheart?”

your lips were glossy, jaw aching, mascara smudging under your eyes. you nodded quickly, overwhelmed and desperate, your hips still rocking back into chris with every thrust, chasing the high even if it was tearing you apart.

“atta girl,” matt whispered, pushing his cock past your lips again, slower this time. “you tell me if it’s too much.”

“god, she’s fuckin’ squeezing me,” chris groaned, one hand sliding up your back to tangle in your hair. he tugged, hard, forcing you back against his chest as he fucked up into you. “so fuckin’ desperate, huh? that mouth, this pussy—fuck—gonna make me lose it.”

you sobbed around matt’s cock, everything tightening inside you, your climax winding up impossibly fast from the overstimulation. between the sweet praise dripping from matt’s lips and the rough grip of chris slamming into your soaked cunt, it was like your body didn’t know how to handle it.

“you gonna cum for us?” matt asked gently, brushing your hair out of your face. “you wanna be good and let go, baby?”

chris leaned in, his voice rough against your ear. “do it. c’mon, mama, make a fuckin’ mess all over my cock.”

and you did. hard. your body seized, trembling so violently chris had to hold you up, your mouth falling open around matt as a broken, choked cry escaped you. everything blurred—pleasure so sharp it hurt, heat crawling up your spine, stars exploding behind your eyes.

“holy shit,” chris groaned, hips stuttering as you clenched around him. “fuck—‘m gonna—”

chris groaned, fucking you through his own release, hips jerking as he spilled inside you, his grip bruising on your hips. you were still shaking when matt eased you back into his hands, lifting your chin to look at him.

“can you take me now, or is that too much?” he asked softly.

your lips trembled, eyes glassy.

“w-want it,” you breathed. “please, matt.”

he smiled—slow and sweet—before guiding you down onto the couch.

“good girl,” he murmured, kissing you softly. “let me take care of you.”

you didn’t even notice chris disappearing to calm himself down with a shower when matt laid you down gently, like you were made of glass, one hand behind your head, the other soothing down your side as chris backed off the couch, chest still heaving, his eyes locked on the mess he made between your thighs. but matt wasn’t looking at that. his focus was all on your face—your flushed cheeks, your swollen lips, the tremble in your thighs that hadn’t stopped.

“you sure?” he asked again, thumb brushing tender over your jaw.

you nodded, legs already falling open for him, greedy in a way you couldn’t even be ashamed of anymore.

“want you,” you whispered, voice ruined.

matt gave you a soft, crooked smile. “you got me, baby.”

and then he sank down, pressing a kiss just below your ear, another on your neck, trailing lower, worshipping you in a way that made your chest ache. his fingers slid between your legs first—careful, coaxing, easing through the mess chris had left inside you, his brows pulling in as you whimpered.

“you’re still so sensitive,” he murmured, more to himself than you. “so fuckin’ beautiful..”

when he finally pressed inside, it was slow—so fucking slow you felt every inch stretch you out all over again, your back arching instinctively, a soft moan slipping from your lips.

“oh my god—matt,” you gasped, hands flying to his shoulders.

he groaned low, lips brushing your temple. “fuck, you feel so good. you okay, sweetheart?”

you nodded again, nails digging into his skin as he bottomed out. he started to move, hips rolling in that sweet, steady rhythm that left no space between your bodies, his forehead resting against yours.

“you don’t gotta do anything,” he whispered between kisses. “just let me feel you, yeah? just this.”

you whimpered, body already twitching from how deep he was hitting, but it wasn’t like chris—there was no punishing pace, no sharp snap of hips. matt moved like he wanted you to melt under him, like he wanted to erase every rough edge with every soft, slow thrust. you felt yourself build again, overwhelmed but weightless, like your body was floating under him.

“you gonna cum again, baby?” matt breathed, voice warm against your mouth. “c’mon, let me feel it, pretty girl. wanna feel you cum f’me.”

you clung to him like you were drowning, jaw slack, moans high and soft and broken.

“matt, i—fuck, i can’t—”

“yes, you can,” he said, kissing you again, deep and slow and dizzying. “you’re already there. i got you, baby.”

and he was right. your whole body seized again, wave after wave of pleasure crashing through you, softer this time—but no less intense. your thighs shook, your head fell back, a sound escaping you that barely sounded human. matt groaned when he felt you tighten, his own pace faltering as he buried himself deep one last time, hips grinding as he came with a low, breathless moan right against your lips. everything went quiet except for your breathing. the sound of your heart racing in your ears. matt stayed there for a while, forehead against yours, his hand stroking your hip gently, grounding you.

finally, matt eased out of you slowly, kissing your shoulder, your cheek, your jaw.

“gonna clean you up,” he murmured, already standing.

you reached for him lazily, eyes half-lidded. “stay. i’m fine.”

he gave you a crooked smile, brushing your hair off your damp forehead. “not gonna leave. just gonna get a towel, alright?”

you nodded, letting your eyes fall shut, your body spent and warm and safe on the familiar couch. you were still draped across the couch like your bones had melted, limbs heavy, skin buzzing. matt had tucked a blanket over you before disappearing into the kitchen, muttering something about water. your body ached in the sweetest way possible—thighs sore, lips swollen, your mind floating somewhere far off and soft. the front bathroom door clicked open. chris strolled out in a cloud of steam, hair wet and curling around his ears, shirtless again—of course—and toweling off the back of his neck as he stepped into the room. he paused when he saw you, a low laugh huffing out of his chest as he dropped into the seat beside you.

“you okay?” he asked, quieter this time. his fingers ghosted across your lower back, drawing slow, idle circles. not trying to start something, just… grounding you. like he actually cared how you were doing.

you hummed, too content to even lift your head, cheek smushed into the couch cushion. “m’fine.”

he smirked. “you look fucked out.”

“that’s ‘cause i am.”

he chuckled again, the sound softer this time. “fair.”

you let the silence hang for a second, too cozy to speak, the heat from his hand a steady warmth against your spine. but then—because he couldn’t help himself:

“soo…”

you cracked one eye open.

“who won?”

you let out a sharp breath through your nose, scoffing, head shaking in disbelief. “are you serious right now?”

chris grinned like a bastard. “it’s a valid question.”

“jesus christ,” you muttered, grabbing the nearest pillow and shoving it into his face, not even hard enough to hurt, just enough to wipe the smugness off him.

he laughed behind the fluff. “you didn’t say no to making this a game!”

“i didn’t say yes either.”

he peeked at you from behind the pillow, still smirking. “well. i know it wasn’t matt.”

matt’s voice chimed in from the doorway, smooth and casual as he handed you a water bottle. “yeah? pretty sure she was still shaking when i finished.”

you groaned, burying your face again. “this is insane.”

“so lettin’ your best friends fuck you isnt?” chris replied.

“i’m sorry, he’s got a point..,” matt added with a chuckle.

you rolled your eyes—but you didn’t stop smiling. tonight wasn’t about either of them ‘winning’ or ‘proving’ something. not for them, (at least not for matt,) but it definitely was something.

dividers by @strangergraphics

🎞️ @tits4matt @loser41ifee @sweetshuga @nickysturnss @courta13 @sophsturns @starsforu @h3arts4nat @emely9274 @chestersturn @watercolorskyy @httpssturns @cherryystemm @adoremattsturns @jaybirdie34 @sturnspecial @secretaccountx5 @ivysturnss @fmalewokk @zenithsturniolo @iloveduckssm @facetimemethatpussy3 @iloveduckssm @zenithsturniolo @sturnsrecord

[sluttapes]

what if…

@tits4matt @loser41ifee @sweetshuga @nickysturnss @courta13 @sophsturns @starsforu @h3arts4nat @emely9274 @chestersturn @watercolorskyy @httpssturns @cherryystemm @adoremattsturns @jaybirdie34 @sturnspecial @secretaccountx5 @ivysturnss @fmalewokk @zenithsturniolo @iloveduckssm @facetimemethatpussy3 @iloveduckssm @zenithsturniolo

[sluttapes]

⌞ 𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞⌝

matthew bernard sturniolo

𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨ㆍ𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘴𝘮𝘴ㆍ𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯ㆍ𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨ㆍ𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬ㆍ𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴ㆍ𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨ㆍ

matt’s fingertips dig into your hip, pressing you harder against his lap, head leaned against his chest as his other hand works between your thighs. the faint murmur of chris and nick’s laughter bleeds through the wall, muffled by the thrum of your pulse in your ears, and matt's heartbeat.

his breath is hot against your neck, lips brushing your skin as he whispers, “shhhh, i know sweetheart… gotta stay quiet for me.”

his fingers plunge deeper, curling just right, and you bite back a whimper, nails scrambling at his forearm. his palm smothers your mouth tighter, stifling the broken sounds fighting to escape.

“just a little more,” he coos, voice low and strained. “let me make you feel good.”

your legs tremble, sweat-slick and shaking, as he drags you through another orgasm—your third? fourth?—body seizing as slick spills over his knuckles. he doesn’t stop. the squelch of his fingers is obscene, rhythmic, loud, but his rhythm never falters.

“c’mon,” he grits out, hips shifting under you, his own arousal obvious against your back. “i know you can do it.”

the pad of his thumb grinds against your clit, relentless, and you writhe, tears pricking your eyes. overstimulation burns like fire, but he’s merciless, murmuring, “shh, baby, one more. you can give me one more.”

your back arches involuntarily, a silent scream trapped behind his hand as your body betrays you again, convulsing around him. clear liquid gushes, soaking his wrist, the couch, your thighs. “attagiiirl,” he breathes, finally slowing, easing you through the aftershocks with gentler strokes.

a floorboard creaks in the hallway. both of you freeze.

“matt?” nick’s voice, closer now. “you good?”

his fingers slip free, glistening. he wipes them casually on his jeans, arm loosening around your waist. “yeah,” he calls back, steady. “just washing my hands.”

🎞 @tits4matt @loser41ifee @sweetshuga @nickysturnss @courta13 @sophsturns @starsforu @h3arts4nat @emely9274 @chestersturn @watercolorskyy @httpssturns @cherryystemm @adoremattsturns @jaybirdie34 @sturnspecial @secretaccountx5 @ivysturnss @fmalewokk @zenithsturniolo @iloveduckssm @facetimemethatpussy3

[sluttapes]

uhm so maybe that was a lie..

are we getting another tape?🛐

yesss tonight

[sluttapes]

are we getting another tape?🛐

yesss tonight

[sluttapes]

hello beautiful people! :)

since it’s mental health awareness month, i wanted to come on here and let everyone know that you are seen.

mental health is something that’s very easily overlooked and often not cared about, sadly. it’s a huge struggle and makes life a lot harder for so many people. as someone who’s struggled with mental health issues like anxiety & depression from a very young age, i know how it feels and i want people to know that i understand them and i am always here to talk if anyone ever needs it.

its important to believe in yourself when no one around you does, and that can be hard. it can take a while to learn how to live with these struggles, sometimes it’s nearly impossible, but there’s always something to hold on to. even if it’s the tiniest bit of a happy memory, hope, or the love you receive from the people around you.

if you got up today, you can be proud of yourself. you’re here, and i am proud of you for that.

no matter how hard it gets, remember that one day you can look back on yourself and on those moments where you struggled the most, and be proud of yourself for getting out of that. the strongest thing you can do is ask for help, never hesitate. i am here and i see you, i understand you.

you are loved, you are amazing.

big hugs, and lots of love, malia 𖦹✮⋆˙

[sluttapes]

ily ily ily ily

hehe, hehe. 420. (thank you)

[sluttapes]

Same thing I said on my main goes here aswell. If you support ableism, spread any form of hate or bullying. Get the fuck off my blog.

You’re not better than anyone else because you have a gc where you are genuinely just rude and disrespectful in. saying slurs, making it a joke, taking a screenshot and posting it without even thinking about how wrong and disrespectful it is. In fact, it makes you look incredibly stupid.

“Out of context”

“Our kind of humor”

“Supposed to be a joke”

“Someone in the gc can reclaim it”

Your little excuses are embarrassing. Every single one of them.

[sluttapes]

hehe, hehe. 420. (thank you)

[sluttapes]

anon bc it’s my main but fuck your writing is so good dude literally better than any fic i’ve read. you write the boys so good too they’re so sexy

heheh ty! now i wanna know who this is LMFAOO

[sluttapes]

https://www.tumblr.com/sluttapes/781758768580018176/begging-for-another-part-literally-have

Omg omg ???

I’m so excited

its up its up its up

[sluttapes]

⌞ 𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 ⌝

christoper owen & matthew bernard sturniolo

𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹ㆍ𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨ㆍ𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨ㆍ𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨ㆍ𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 (𝘯𝘰 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝘰𝘣𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺.)ㆍ𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬ㆍ𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨ㆍ𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨ㆍ𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴ㆍ𝘤𝘶𝘮 𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨ㆍ𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘦ㆍ

you didn’t speak about it when the car pulled into the triplets’ driveway.

no one said a word.

not about what happened. not about how far it had gone. not about how far it almost went. the three of you just got out of the car like nothing happened, the silence tight between you, humming with something unfinished. and maybe it was easier that way—pretending the heat from the drive hadn’t followed you home. pretending you weren’t still pulsing with it.

inside, everything was familiar. matt’s room was still messy from the day you guys left—hoodies on the chair, a half-empty water bottle tipped on his nightstand, rumpled blankets he didn’t even bother to fix before collapsing into them. it was unusual for him, but leaving for the weekend was a rush, so neither of you really bothered with cleaning anything. not you at your place, not them two at theirs. matt just dropped onto the bed like gravity hit him harder than usual, face buried in the pillow. you hovered for a second in the doorway, unsure if you should crawl in too.

but he reached back blindly, fingers curling around your wrist and tugging you in without a word. like it was normal. like nothing had changed. so you napped there, the quiet warmth of his room settling over you both, thick and heavy like the rain had been earlier. matt fell asleep fast, his arm slung across your waist. your heart beat a little too fast for your own comfort, but the exhaustion won eventually.

chris had gone to his room. nick wasn’t home, which made the silence in the house even louder. and when you finally woke up, your body still half sore from the car ride and the weird adrenaline of the day, everything felt… suspended.

like the moment wasn’t over. just paused.

the three of you eventually found yourselves in the living room, sprawled out across the couch and floor. pillows. phones. silence. the tv was on but muted, some random tv show playing reruns you weren’t watching. no one was talking. no one knew what to say. your phone screen glowed in your hand, thumb scrolling with no real attention. but you could feel it.

matt kept glancing at you.

you could feel chris looking too—casual and sideways, eyes flicking up between long blinks. and then… they locked eyes. just for a second. like they’d been circling the same thought all afternoon and finally crashed into it at the same time. their expressions didn’t change much. but you felt it. the shift.

your spine straightened slightly. lips parting like your body knew something before your mind did. matt raised an eyebrow, just barely. the kind of expression that said you thinking what i’m thinking?

chris’s lips curved. not a smile. more like an agreement.

you looked between them slowly. and suddenly your phone felt heavy in your hand. because the air was different now. something was coming. and they both knew it.

you didn’t speak. none of you did. but the look that passed between matt and chris—it said everything.

and the way their eyes kept coming back to you? it said the rest.

your stomach flipped, heat curling under your skin again like it never really left. it had just been waiting for a spark. and now it was everywhere. thick in the room. dense in your lungs. matt leaned back first, arms stretched over the back of the couch, his eyes dropping down your frame with casual ease. his fingers tapped along the fabric behind you, like he was weighing something. deciding.

then chris sat forward slightly on the floor, elbows on his knees, phone long forgotten in his lap as he looked up at you. and you could tell by his face—he knew. he knew you were thinking about it. about both of them. about what it meant. what it could become.

matt’s voice cut into the silence, low and calm. “so… we gonna talk about it?”

your heart kicked up.

you glanced between them, pulse hammering in your throat. “talk about… what?”

his mouth pulled into the faintest grin. “you know.”

chris didn’t let you look away for long. “you liked it. don’t pretend you didn’t.”

you swallowed. your voice barely came out. “you don’t even know what i’m thinking.”

“no?” chris asked, eyes dragging slowly down your body, then back up. “i think i do.”

matt’s arm shifted—closer now, the side of his hand brushing your shoulder like an invitation. “you weren’t stopping either of us.”

you sat there, motionless, frozen between them. between choices. between the way matt looked at you like he already had you, and the way chris looked like he wanted to prove you 'belonged' to neither of them. or maybe both. the tension was unbearable now. and yet… you didn’t move. you didn’t want to move.

chris tilted his head, voice quieter. “you ever thought about it before, sweetheart?”

your lips parted. “about what?”

“both of us,” matt said. “at the same time?”

your heart stuttered. there it was. said out loud. no more circling around it. no more careful silence. you could barely breathe.

“you don’t have to say anything,” matt added, voice low, rough with something that sounded almost like restraint. “we can just stop. or—”

“or we don’t,” chris cut in, leaning forward. “and we keep going.”

you looked between them, pulse thudding like a drum. you’d never felt so seen. so stretched between two halves of the same thought—matt’s calm, steady heat, and chris’s sharp, hungry edge.

and the worst part?

you didn’t want to choose.

the silence after matt’s earlier question wasn’t silence at all. it was a roar. static in your veins, the hum of the muted tv, the ragged cadence of three breaths holding, then releasing. your skin prickled under their gazes—matt’s patient, smoldering; chris’s sharp, unyielding. the air clung to your throat, thick with the scent of rain still lingering on their clothes, the faint musk of sweat from the drive, the citrus of chris’s cologne cutting through it all like a blade.

you didn’t speak. you didn’t need to.

matt moved first. always the initiator, the one who bridged gaps with a smirk and a steady hand. his fingers grazed your jaw, tilting your face toward him, and his kiss was deliberate. slow. a question phrased as a statement. his lips were warm, familiar in a way that made your chest ache.

“you don't need to do anything you're not comfortable with” he murmured against your mouth, the words a low rumble you felt in your ribs. his thumb brushed your bottom lip, pressing just enough to part them.

“would never make you do anything you don't want.”

you let him keep going. because as weird, and as new as this feeling, this whole thing was, you wanted it. more than you cared to admit.

chris wasn’t one to watch. you felt him shift behind you, his knees bracketing your hips as he settled on the couch, hands sliding around your waist to pull you back against him. his laugh was a dark puff against your neck.

“you always gotta be first, matt?” his teeth nipped the tendon there, not quite gentle. “already had your fun of being first last night..”

you gasped, arching into the sting, and matt’s grip tightened on your chin.

“eyes here,” he said, softer now, almost apologetic.

his other hand slid into your hair, guiding your mouth back to his. this time, the kiss deepened, his tongue sweeping against yours, deliberate and claiming. you whimpered, torn between the heat of his mouth and the press of chris’s hardening length against your lower back.

“fuck,” chris muttered, palms skimming up your sides, pushing your shirt higher.

his touch was rougher, impatient, the softness of his hands catching on your skin as he found the curve of your breast.

“you’ve been thinking about this, huh? both of us?” he squeezed your tit, and your moan was swallowed by matt’s kiss. “knew it. always knew you'd get turned on by some shit like that.”

matt pulled back a little, his thumb on your lip, pressing in. “can you open up for me, pretty?” you obeyed, your tongue darting out to taste the salt of his skin.

his eyes were fixated on the movement, his teeth sinking into his lower lip as he watched you do as he said. “such pretty lips.. you're so beautiful, sweetheart.”

you hadn’t realized he’d undone his jeans until he got up from where he was sat next to you, looking down at you with an unspoken question behind his gaze, making sure you were comfortable with this during every single second of it. his cock brushed your lips, thick and heavy in your hand now. you hesitated—too much, too fast—but chris’s fingers dug into your hips, anchoring you.

“don’t choke,” he taunted, joking because he knew how nervous you were about this whole situation. though his voice wavered when matt’s tip nudged your tongue. “bet she will, though. bet she’s dying to.”

matt’s hand tightened in your hair. “ignore him,” he said, but his hips jerked forward, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat. you gagged, tears springing to your eyes at the sudden fullness in your mouth, and he froze.

“shit—” he rasped, thumb stroking your cheek. “just breathe through it. you’re okay. tell me to stop if you need to”

chris was already working your shorts down your thighs, his palm slapping your ass lightly.

“c’mon, baby. y'know you can take it.” his fingers slid between your legs, and you jolted at the contact, already soaked.

“jesus,” he hissed, dragging two fingers through your slickness before pushing them into his mouth. “can't believe you got to taste that pretty pussy before i did..” chris scoffed at matt.

but matt ignored him, fully focused on the warmth of your mouth around him. his cock pulsed against your tongue, precum bitter as he rocked deeper.

“look at me, beautiful” he demanded, and you forced your eyes open, blurry with tears.

his expression was torn—hunger and something almost tender.

“attagirl. taking me so well.” he brushed your hair back, tucking it behind your ear like this was something soft, something sacred. but his hips didn’t stop, each thrust measured, relentless.

chris’s hands returned, spreading you open, fingers now plunging in and out of your wet, needy pussy. you moaned around matt’s length, back arching, but chris held you firm, fingers curling.

“so sensitive,” he mocked, the vibration of his laugh against your neck making you shudder.

you couldn’t speak. couldn’t think. the room narrowed to the stretch of matt in your throat, the bruising grip of chris’s hand on your thighs, the coil in your belly tightening with every tight circle of chris’s thumb on your clit. matt’s praise blurred with chris’s taunts, until you were a sobbing, moaning mess. drool and tears streaking your face.

you barely processed the shift, and matt pulling back, and out of your mouth before chris was grabbing you, pulling you on top of him fully. your back hitting his chest. his fingers gripping your hips tightly. you cried out when his cock nudged your entrance.

“look at him,” chris growled, “look at matt. show him how much better i make you feel.”

matt stood in front of you, one hand fisting his cock, the other tilting your chin up. his eyes were black, fevered.

“you're doing so, so good, sweetheart.” he praised.

your lips part as chris sheathed himself inside you in one not so gentle thrust. the pain was white-hot, exquisite. you moaned, loud. nails digging into chris’s thighs, but matt’s thumb swept over your bottom lip.

“it's okay. y' got it,” he coaxed, though his own breath hitched when chris began to move, your tits bouncing, eyes staring up into matt's. “you’re okay. so good for us.”

chris’s laugh was a snarl. “she’s not okay,” he said, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. “she’s fucking desperate for this. always has been.”

his pace was punishing, each snap of his hips driving you onto matt’s cock when he pushed back into your mouth. “yeahhh, taht's it. suck him,” chris ordered, hands fisting your hair to hold you still.

“so fuckin' dirty. lettin' your best friend fuck your mouth like that”

the stretch of matt down your throat, the brutal fullness of chris beneath you, his dirty words, the way their groans harmonized as they used you—it shattered you. you came with a muffled scream, body clamping around chris as he cursed, his rhythm faltering.

“fuck, squeezing me so good—” chris’s hips stuttered, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. “gonna make me—ah, shit—”

matt’s hand tightened in your hair, his thrusts picking up the pace. “such a good girl, y' got it, oohhh—fuck— y' got it, baby.” he choked out, your throat working around him as he came, bitter and thick.

chris followed with a growl, spilling into you, his teeth sinking into your shoulder to muffle his groans.

────୨ৎ────

the living room was quiet again. but it wasn’t the same kind of silence as before. this one was… heavier. not uncomfortable, just thick. like the air itself was holding onto what had just happened.

the couch creaked slightly as you adjusted, still catching your breath, your skin cooling under the weight of the aftermath. pillows askew. one of the blankets halfway on the floor. someone’s shirt draped across the back of the couch—maybe matt’s. maybe chris’s. you couldn’t tell anymore. your body ached in places that hadn’t been touched like that before. not by them, not by both of them. not with that kind of shared want. you sat there, wrapped in the warmth of it, still caught in the glow of what the three of you had done.

what the hell did we just do? you thought, but not in a way that felt like regret.

beside you, matt let out a quiet sigh. it was soft. steady. the kind of sound he made when he didn’t know what to say but didn’t mind the silence, either. you turned your head just slightly, and there he was—arm tossed over his eyes, his other hand resting near your leg, close but not quite touching.

chris was stretched on the other side, head tilted back against the couch cushion, lips parted like he was still catching his breath. one hand on his stomach, the other loosely hanging off the edge of the cushion.

no one was speaking. not yet.

but their breathing—your breathing—still filled the space. like a memory that hadn’t fully settled. you reached for the blanket, tugging it back over your chest as you shifted to sit up a little. your body was still buzzing, raw and real in the aftermath. your heart had finally slowed, but your thoughts hadn’t. you weren’t sure if you should say something. if you should joke about it. laugh. break the weird tension before it had time to stretch too far. but then matt moved. his hand brushed your knee gently, grounding you.

“you okay?” he murmured, voice rough, sleep-heavy.

you nodded. “yeah. just… yeah.”

chris’s voice chimed in next, a little smug, a little curious. “you regretting it already?”

your head turned toward him, and for a second, you thought he was being serious. but the way his mouth curved told you he wasn’t. not really.

“no,” you said, honest. “just… thinking.”

matt shifted to sit up, running a hand through his hair. “we probably should talk about it. we don't have to now, but like... you know..”

no one answered right away. you weren’t sure what there was to say. not yet, anyway. but you knew one thing for sure. things would never go back to the way they were before.

and maybe… you didn’t want them to.

dividers by @bernardsbendystraws

@tits4matt @loser41ifee @sweetshuga @nickysturnss @courta13 @sophsturns @starsforu @h3arts4nat @emely9274 @chestersturn @watercolorskyy @httpssturns @cherryystemm @adoremattsturns

[sluttapes]

begging for another part🧎‍♀️‍➡️literally have notifs on for you PLSS

tomorrow tomorrow, also that’s so sexy

[sluttapes]

⌞ 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴 & 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵 ⌝

boston, massachusetts, twenty one

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