#August rosenbluth x reader

[keravnous]

wanna go where the girls are young and dumb? ; christoph waltz x fem!reader (smut, 18+)

being c. waltz's sugarbaby - the playlist

Your mother dragged you along to southern France for the summertime. Thus, you are forced to spend your spring break with your stepdad.

warnings: stepdad!christoph, lowkey sugardaddy!christoph, age gap (the reader is in her early 20s, christoph is in his 50s), finally putting my native language to good use, daddy kink, light choking, power play, riding/reverse cowgirl, fingering, pet names, name calling, unprotected sex, slight cumplay and breeding, multiple orgasms, viagra (unrealistic effects), controlling/possessive!christoph, bratty!reader, christoph's a little dark in this so heed the warning, he really just wants to wreck you he's been waiting long enough

translations: Liebes - love; Na, sieh mal einer an wer uns heute noch mit ihrer Anwesenheit beehrt - Well, someone's seen fit to grace us with their presence; Oh, das machen wir aber nicht - Oh, we won't do that, won't we

word count: 11,4k

choosing a gif for this was really just playing what's my favourite waltz era

the title is from the song young & dumb by cigarettes after sex

thank you v for not giving up on me <3

"Na, sieh mal einer an, wer uns heute noch mit ihrer Anwesenheit beehrt. Where have you been?", your stepdad's voice is hard enough to cut steel and you freeze dead in your tracks, white heels dangling from your hand. Well, fuck - so much for sneaking back in quietly.

The huge wooden doors to the living room are opened - and you can see Christoph sitting on the sofa facing the lobby, in the shadows of the room, dimly lit by candles. Your feet are pressing against the polished marble, warm skin on cool stone. It's still hot outside, only a small breeze ruffling the leaves of the trees and rolling in through the opened windows, toying gently with the hem of your nearly see-through, white linen dress.

This place could easily be heaven on earth - the old, 18th century countryside bastide with its lush citrus and olive trees, near a cliff at the water and a sleepy, small town nearby - weren't it for the devil himself.

Your vision zeroes in on him - your mother's boyfriend and soon to be husband - and you try your best to glare into the dim abyss of the barely lit living room.

"Why do you care?", you spit, ready to storm upstairs. You just want some peaceful silence, not whatever the fuck he's on about.

And, like he can sense what you are about to do, like he sees the way your calf-muscles twitch, he says softly: "Don't you dare moving an inch, Liebes." His velvety voice drips with acid honey; a threat in candy-wrappers. A frost descends with his voice, making you shiver.

"I am not -"

"Where have you been?", Christoph asks again, voice menacingly calm. He sounds like he knows.

Like he knows, that you have been out to get laid.

You had met a pretty, young man and shared a few flirtatious looks with him at the farmer's market just yesterday. Your French was sufficient to get the necessities across and thus, he was quick to grasp that you wanted to fuck. Sneaking out of the house around 10 you rode your bike to his place, only to find out that what he had to offer in looks - long, dark, and curly hair and eyes like the ocean - he lacked in experience. He had been clumsy and after he tried to finger you for what seemed to be an eternity of aimless thrusting and unpassionate rubbing, you had told him to fuck off and drove back home. You just want to go upstairs, get yourself off, shower and go to sleep.

But you can't just say that, can you? And thus, you blink, unnerved, hissing: "You are not my fucking father."

You wish you could see his face, see his reaction, but it is hidden by flickering shadows. You decide that tonight's not the night to be the pawn in one of his strange games. Thus, you suck in a deep breath, before eventually sighing: "I am going upstairs. Good night."

"Ah ah ah", he scolds and you can see him taking a drag of his cigarette, the tip of it gleaming before he is exhaling smoke that curls into the air, the thick mist illuminated by the flickering glow of the candles, "Is that a way to speak to the man who keeps you in college?"

"I am not having this conversation right now."

"But I will", he raises his eyebrows and you feel glued to the spot, helpless.

Something prevents you from just leaving. You do not know what it is, but you recall a few encounters in which he had a similar effect on you - where he intimidated you into submission. Another shiver crawls up your spine at the thought.

"Step inside here for a moment, please", and as you don't move, his voice turns cold - like you are in real fucking trouble, "I won't be asking you again."

Making a great show out of your reluctant-ness, you groan, rolling your eyes, before you unwillingly drop your shoes onto the marble. Entering the living room, you sigh audibly, throwing your head back a little in exasperation, coming to a halt only a few steps into the room.

Christoph seems bored by your behaviour, deliberately stomps his cigarette out in the antique ashtray before crossing his arms. He's wearing linen, too - in a fruitless attempt to combat the heat - the first few buttons of his shirt opened. You can see the greying chest hair peeking through from where you are standing, dusted on his skin like silver threads.

You are annoyed - annoyed by the pretty young Frenchman who turned out to be an absolute disastrous disappointment, annoyed by being stuck here in the middle of nowhere, annoyed by the heat, annoyed by Christoph looking at you the way he does, annoyed by the way his strict gaze has your stomach tingling.

Annoyed by how pretty he looks in the golden candle light.

The thought hits you like a chair to the head and you sway a little, hands gripping the edges of the armchair in front of you. You swallow, trying to fight the thought. The light toys with his features, has his eyes gleaming and the grey hair on his temples looking like fluid silver.

You can feel his gaze roaming your body, burning and heavy, as his eyes wander up and down - taking in both, your curves, and your underwear visible through the white linen.

"Come closer."

You do not want to. You want to hide behind the chair, safe from the confusing mind games he likes to play.

But you don't. Instead, like a puppet on his strings, you take two steps forward and into the room, standing there uselessly. Disarmed, your only weapon left is your tongue.

"What the fuck do you want?", it comes out rude, brash. Christoph chuckles, unimpressed. For a second, you two just stare each other - a silent battle of authority and obstreperousness.

"Closer", is all he says, with the steadiness of a victory.

"I don't have time for this", your voice breaks, irritated and a little unsteady around the edges. Christoph looks at you, unfazed but something small changes. It's in his eyes, something that grows stern and unrelenting. If your little display of brattiness a few minutes earlier was a joke to him, your behaviour now was an insult.

And thus, a little intimidated by him, you comply, carefully taking a few steps forward until only a couple long strides part the two of you.

It does not seem to satisfy him.

"Closer."

You furrow your brows and close the gap, mere inches between your and his knee. He looks up at you, eyes cold.

"That's it. Sit", you blink dumbly as Christoph pats his thigh, his tone light in an odd, uncanny contrast to the way he looks at you.

Alright, no. Absolutely not.

You aren't sure if he's joking. It must be a sick joke. Maybe he finds it funny: his adult stepdaughter sitting on his lap. You do not move.

You are certain, he will break any second - for Christ's sake, he's an actor - he's just joking. He will break. His lips will curl up any second now --

Looking at his serious face, stern gaze boring deep deep into your soul, you grow certain that he is indeed serious. Very serious.

You gulp. "I am not doing this. This is so fucking inappropriate."

"And I am not discussing this. Sit."

God knows, Christoph isn't - never was - very patient. And you can feel it, too; he oozes with it, the way his gaze grows cold as ice and you nearly stumble over your own feet as your body gives in. He is fucking intimidating, especially when the façade of the European gentleman crumbles, drops, like it does right now - leaves you wondering, what he is capable of. And you do not want to find out. Thus, your brain barely has enough time to fight it or to reason with you, you step closer and sink down on his lap. You legs dangle over his left knee while you avoid his gaze.

Let's get this fucking over with then.

"There you go, that wasn't so hard, now, was it?"

"N-no", you shake your head, feeling the heat of his body radiating through both of your linen clothes. It should feel odd, and maybe it does just a little, sitting on your fucking stepfather's lap like this, but -- it also doesn't feel that bad. It is strangely comforting, with his rich, warm scent now wrapping you in. You have always liked his perfume - a subtle wooden scent, of vetiver and a subtle splash of mint. Sublime, sophisticated.

One of his slender, large hands wraps around your hips, holds you in place, the other gently takes your hand, fingers brushing over yours.

"I -- where's my mother?", you hold onto it like a lifeline.

"Asleep." And there it goes - the lifeline slips out of your hands and you drown in the dark, deep sea that is his presence, all light out of reach as you sink deeper, nothing else remaining but him. Still, you can't help but notice that his voice sounds cold, distant, and you wonder why.

You recall something your mother had told you just days before the flight to southern France. Her voice echoes in your skull as you remember sitting in her spacious living room, picking out a few dresses for her to wear on vacation. "He's not even touching me anymore, honey, I don't know -" - "Ew, Mom! I don't wanna know, my god!"

You wonder, if their little paradise is already crumbling, turning ugly around the edges, and a part of you wishes for it to be true. You want him gone. But there's also a small voice in the back of your head that panics at the thought. You like your life like this - you can't deny the fact that he keeps you afloat financially, that whatever you want or need - you don't even have to ask for it, he just buys it. Like it's nothing. It's comfortable and easy and you would most likely miss it.

No - you are certain you would. Life's never been that easy for you.

It's fucked up, really. You still remember meeting him, and in the beginning, you got along just fine. Blimey, even.

Getting to know him started off well. Your mother had met him at the theatre while he had been working there and despite her being shy around him, he quickly convinced her to Just try it. The first time you had met Christoph in person was at a dinner at your mother's place during Christmas break and he had been so charming, so soft and well-spoken that he had made you feel right at ease, even though you were sitting across someone so familiar with the limelight and the high society of Hollywood.

It had been nice. You found out that he was recently divorced, with children around your age. You told him about college and your future goals. It had been homely and down to earth, just nice.

And thus, you didn't think much of it as last year's spring break rolled around, returning to your childhood and now their part time-shared Los Angeles home, as he was knocking on the door of your old teenage bedroom. "It's just a little something I got you - a special gift for my new stepdaughter, perhaps? The sale's lady said it would be - quite fitting - for a young woman your age." And Christoph had been so so charming that you didn't think much of it, as you unwrapped the large box.

Inside had been a set of lingerie, made of fine, white lace with frills. The soft fabric had felt and looked expensive and you had gasped - the set so pretty that for a short while, you had forgotten how inappropriate it was for him to gift you such things.

As you finally, after returning to your dorm and showing the gift to your roommate ("Girl, that's just creepy."), came to realize just how wrong it was, a sleek beige box awaited you on your bed one night in the dorm as you returned from your classes. Inside had been a Chanel dress, all pale-pink, flowers and bows ("Shit, that one's kind of pretty").

Christoph had kept sending you gifts: jewellery, dresses, lingerie. You dutifully called every single time and thanked him and he usually only chuckled, stating that it was nothing. You know you should have told your mother. It felt off and you knew that it was, too.

But you just didn't.

Unbeknownst to you, he was testing the waters. Every time you'd see him from then on, he would put you through agonizingly long inquiries about what you did on campus, who you were seeing. He would make it painfully obvious that he was checking your credit card billings and whenever there was something out of the ordinary, he would bring it up casually in the following conversation.

You remember going out with some guy from your lecture, meeting at a place you had never been at before. The date had gone horrible and to not lead him on, you had paid for yourself - even though he insisted otherwise. Christoph had enjoyed seeing you squirm, bathed in your shame and uneasiness, as he asked you if the drinks were as horrible as he believed them to be.

That's when the tables kind of turned. You figured that he was just a rich and controlling asshole that had barged into your life, had belittled you and had ruined your fucking peace. Maybe he was an award-winning actor but to you, that didn't matter.

You were fucking glad, that he kept the relationship to you mother out of the public eye. You didn't even want to imagine the media attention. You didn't even want to imagine what he had to say about you - "My stepdaughter? Oh, she's just whoring about, that unthankful little girl, don't you worry about her."

His mellow voice rips you out of your memory. "So, what are we doing about you breaking my rules tonight?"

You nearly burst out a laugh - you are in your twenties; you are allowed to do whatever the fuck you want. His made up, bullshit rules do not apply to you - quite frankly, up until now, they did not even fucking exist to you. He never told you there were any in the first place.

Not that you would have cared, anyways.

"You have no authority over me", you say, but doesn't come out half as cool as you wanted it to. Christoph's lips curls into a smile, gaze wandering over your face. His fingers brush over yours and then he leans in, voice low:

"We both know, that is not what this is about."

Something in your stomach tingles and you want to rip it out with both hands. "What-", you whisper, seriously confused.

"I have seen what little - well, shall we call them movies, darling? - you watch when you're alone", he purrs and then smiles, all dimples and small lines around his eyes, flashes his white teeth at you. A shiver runs down your spine.

You blink dumbly. What? Jesus Christ, please no - oh no. Oh shit.

Mortification burns high on your cheeks; your skin grows warm and red with it. You immediately know what he's talking about and his invasion of your privacy has your head swimming.

"You checked my fucking browser history?", you blurt out.

"Checked", he huffs, seemingly amused, "If you leave your phone laying around unlocked--" Christoph shrugs, gestures helplessly as if he's trying to justify eating ownerless chocolates.

You can feel your gut sinking. "Y-you--", you can't help but wonder how much he's seen, what exactly he's seen. You can't help your mind from wandering there - wandering to what he thought, if he liked what he saw. Stop it, fucking stop it.

"I--?", Christoph smiles smugly, raising an eyebrow.

You wonder if he saw the countless videos of older men fucking younger women, making them beg and cry, teaching them manners. You remember one porn you have watched plenty of times - the one of a greying man tossing a young woman around, ripping her underwear apart, slapping her face and tits and railing her until she was crying, gripping her hair and spitting in her face.

You remember how deep you had plunged your fingers into your tight cunt, squeezing around them at the thought of an eloquent and handsome older man railing you until you couldn't walk, having his way with you for his pleasure, and his alone. Every single time you watched that one porn you came hard, harder than the time before, draining your sheets with your squirt until it ran down your legs. As fucked up as it is, just the memory of it has your pussy aching right in this moment, wetness pooling between your legs.

Shame crawls up your spine at the thought that he knows - that he has seen the frequency of it popping up in your browsing history. Maybe he had even clicked on it, watched it a little, indulged in your secret little fantasy. The thought has your cheeks burning red with humiliation, but there's also something else, something primal clawing at your insides, making your lower stomach tingle.

"This is none of your business", your voice is small and quiet, your eyes avoiding his drilling gaze.

"Oh, but what if it is?", Christoph's eyes gleam mischievously.

"Excuse me?", you blurt out, heart racing in your chest.

"Mh well", he weighs his head from one side to the other a little, as if he's carefully considering a thought, "You know, if you wanted what you saw in those little movies you could've just asked me?"

He says it so nonchalantly, as if he's talking about buying some milk. You blink, completely speechless.

"Do you want to know why? Why you could've just asked me?", and you nod, head swimming a little, "Because I do not want some dirt-poor, hicktown-boy touching what is mine."

Your breath hitches, and he shrugs. "There's no need for you to compensate your fantasies elsewhere any longer, Liebes, hm?", his voice is soft, dark and deep, like soft silk wrapping you in, "I can give you exactly what you crave."

It feels like your brain has just blown a fuse, blinking at him dumbly. His lips tilt up, one of his hands brushing over your knee. "You just have to say it, darling. Just say the word", and you feel like drowning in the grey sky of his eyes, loins tingling, "I can make you feel good, better than the young men can."

You swallow, excitement bubbling up in your stomach, hitching your breath. It's not like you haven't thought about it, about him - the memory buried deep, deep in the darkest corner of your brain.

You should say no. This is not okay, it will hurt your mother. It's not right. It is inappropriate, at best.

But you are also so fucking horny still, your whole body aching for a touch and the way he looks at you - your fucking stepdad who's a full-blown, silvery 30 years older than you - has tingles spreading through your limbs, fire spreading in your loins. Fuck it.

"Y-yes", you whisper instead of doing the right thing - the spirit willing but the flesh weak -,"Yes, please."

And then, he leans in.

Christoph's kiss is soft and firm, and goosebumps roll over your skin at the thought that it doesn't feel foreign or odd, like if it isn't the first time, he kissed you. It feels a lot like coming home, returning to a familiar touch - it's the way he grabs your waist, mostly, like he just knows how to touch you.

His hand brushes over the small of your back, tips gently stroking your warm skin through your dress, before snaking around your waist and pulling you closer - just as his tongue brushes over your lower lip. The other crawls up your leg, grabs the flesh of your thigh, gropes you and feels you up.

You part your lips obediently, letting Christoph's tongue slip past, brushing over yours. He tastes like cigarettes and liquor and you inhale deeply through your nose - his scent wafting around you, rich, and deep, and sophisticated.

One of your hands comes up, cups his cheek, and pulls him closer. You have never been kissed like this before, never with so much verve, so much lust. He kisses like only a man his age does, like he has tasted a hundred women, but decided you tasted best.

The hand on your leg sneaks higher, and you spread your legs needily, allowing it to slip past and between your thighs. Christoph wastes no time, his index-finger pressing against your pussy, gently rubbing it along your panty-clad folds. You are wet already; the fabric damp and you can feel your loins going up in flames as he rubs you through the thin lace.

Christoph eventually breaks the kiss, has you panting against his mouth, his lips curl up in a smug smile. His fingers dance of your cunt, gently circling your clit through your lace string. "Those boys never treat you right, do they?", he is right, he always is, has you gasping quietly, rocking your hips against his digits, "Only I get to touch you, from now on. Do you understand?"

And you nod, mind already a little hazy, nothing more important than the pulling in your stomach and the wetness between your legs. "Yes", you sigh, leaning into his touch.

"Yes --? You will address me properly", his other hand grabs your chin, "That's certainly not hard to do, now, is it?"

You swallow, your cheeks turning red once more as he digs deep into your fantasies. "Yes, Daddy", you say quietly, the word heavy on your tongue, fresh arousal flooding your cunt.

Christoph hums, visibly satisfied, thumb caressing your jaw and a soft gaze wandering over your face, takes you in, before it grows cold again, as he pulls his hands away.

"Let Daddy see what's his, then", and you follow his stern command.

Hooking your legs over his thighs you practically present yourself to him, the soft velvet cushions pressing against your calves as your back sinks against his chest - the soft material of your dress pooling between your spread legs. Christoph's hands roam over your body - from your hips up up up, brush over your stomach and then cup your tits through your flowy linen dress. His grip is firm and he squeezes them a little, making them spill out of your bra.

You gasp, looking down at his hands and watching the way they fondle your tits, pulling the hem of your dress down and hooks the fabric underneath your breasts. Being so lewdly exposed to him, reduced to being a pretty object to admire and to fondle with, has your head swimming, sparks shooting down your thighs.

"I'll show you off, hm, my pretty little girl? What do you think?", he whispers, one of his slender, large hands cupping your left tit and twisting your nipple between his fingers, "Taking you with me everywhere, let everyone see just how beautiful you are." You gasp, nodding frantically at the thought of being his pretty and expensive little arm-candy - all dolled up and looking pretty for him on the red carpet, adorned in shining jewellery and flowing dresses.

"Let's take this off, shall we?", Christoph tugs at the linen dress and helps you out of it, tosses it to the ground carelessly. You can feel his gaze roaming over your body as he looks over your shoulder, feel heat creeping up your cheeks as you suddenly realize that you wearing one of the lingerie sets, he had gifted you a couple of weeks ago.

A low growl leaves his throat, has the hairs on your arms standing up. "Have you been wearing this for him?", he sing-songs catatonically, his index finger hooks underneath the strap of your string, lets it snap back against your skin.

You have, but it makes you feel stupid now. Childish. Like you have done something laughable. Shame bubbles in your stomach and you feel the urgent need to explain yourself to him: "Y-yes, but--"

"Sh, be quiet", Christoph says softly, his hands casually making quick work of your bra, unclasping it, pulling the strings down your arms, and tossing it into the darkness of the room, "It's fine. You didn't know any better, did you, Liebes?"

"N-no, I didn't", you squeal, the cool air brushing over your hardened nipples, making you shiver while his hands run down your body.

"And do you think, it's fair that he gets to see you all dolled-up like this? In something I have bought you?"

Your teeth catch your lower lip as you shake your head. "Right", his thumb brushes over the strap of your lace string, "And why is that?"

You swallow. You know what Christoph wants to hear and you might just be very willing to give it to him. "Because I belong to you", you say quietly, your stomach fluttering after the words left your mouth.

"That's right", his thumb toys with the lace trimming of the string, "You always have, haven't you?"

You blink. "Huh?"

"Don't be stupid, now."

"I -- I don't-", and he tsks at your aimless stuttering.

"My pretty little airhead", Christoph coos, "Why do you think I bagged your mother?", and suddenly - it clicks. Like a heavy lock falling shut.

You remember the first day of rehearsal at the theatre. It had been his first day there and you had driven your mother, who was responsible for the stage designs, to work since she still had a broken thumb from working on the furniture and was pumped up on painkillers. Saying your goodbyes, you had been seeing him standing a few feet away, smiling at the two of you. You had paid it no mind - especially later, since he ended up going out with your mother. But he hadn't been smiling over the situation, he had been smiling at you. You. Not your mom.

The realization hits you like a freight train, leaves you breathless. "I always get what I want."

"Oh", you make dumbly, mouth agape a little, while his fingers dance over your panty-clad pussy.

"You are just a dumb little baby, aren't you?", for a split second his hand leaves you, only to come down rather hard, as he gives your cunt a firm slap, "I think, I might have to fuck some sense into you."

You squeal, a sharp gasp escaping your lips but you can't help it, as you feel fresh wetness pooling between your legs, rocking your hips against the palm of his hand. "Yeah, I thought so", he sounds rather pleased, lips brushing over the shell of your ear, "Nothing more on your dumb little brain than getting off, hm?"

"Y-yes", you croak, flinching as he strikes your aching cunt another time, moaning sweetly, "Daddy - fuck - p-please!"

"I know just how you feel", his other hand grabs your tit roughly, gropes you, pinching your nipple, "You made Daddy jack off to you so often, princess. Can't wait to see if you're really that tight."

And with that, he unceremoniously pulls your string to the side and you sigh, as your plush and hot skin gets exposed to the cool air.

One of his fingers immediately brushes over your slick folds, and you can hear him hum, a low sound that ignites your lust, has you gasping softly.

"Mh, so wet already, aren't you?", you are, you can hear it. You can hear your juices squelching as his finger runs up and down your cunt, circling your hole and giving your clit the slightest bit of stimulation. Your whole body tingles with it, and you look down, watch him exploring your wet pussy. And maybe, just maybe, you have thought about this, too - with your vibrator pressed snugly against your clit and fingers plunged deep in your cunt - maybe, the thought of him had been flashing through your mind, made you cum at least once.

Christoph's lips brush over your neck, goosebumps spreading over your skin, his free hand wrapping around one of yours. "C'mere, let me show you how wet you are for your Daddy, princess."

And you moan quietly, as he guides your hand between your legs, runs your fingers through your folds. You are incredibly wet, wetter than you have ever been and you gasp at the sensation as his hand guides your fingers through your slick. It's thick and watery and warm and your mouth falls agape at just how much there is of it. It drips down your cojoined fingers, that glide along your folds easily, runs over the palm of Christoph's hand and over his wrist.

"I have never seen a cunt wetter than yours", he whispers and you mewl, gaze dropping down between your legs, watching him guiding your fingers over your pussy. The grip on your fingers is firm and his movements come to a halt, as your digits brush right over your clit. Your breath audibly hatches and you mewl, the slightest bit of stimulation already having you begging for more.

Christoph grins against your warm skin, teeth brushing over the soft flesh. He knows that you had had sex before - he has seen the messages you sent to your roommate about the boys from class, about the one with the pretty blonde hair - but he can't help but notice how you turn into puddy in his hands, like you have never been touched before. Like a fucking virgin. It makes his blood boil, dick straining against his trousers, wanting to see you come apart under the touch of his hands. He wants to see you go insane on his cock, until there is nothing else left but him - all your flings from college washed from your mind - a clean slate for him to claim, ruin.

"Are you always that needy? I don't even want to think about how poorly he must've touched you", Christoph mumbles against your neck, tongue darting out, licking a wet stripe over your warm skin before moving his fingers along with yours, rubbing slow and wide circles over your clit, "I bet it was downright pathetic."

Your hips buck and you gasp, eyelids fluttering. "Oh god, yes", you breathe, feeling your own wetness beneath your fingertips, and the lust sparking in your loins like a wildfire, "Yes, it was."

The way Christoph touches you is just so so different from what you experienced earlier - his slender fingers move yours skilfully, rubbing your clit like he just knows how you like it, like he's done it a hundred times before. You sink back against him, and he gently removes your hand from your cunt, places it onto your thigh instead - lips brushing and sucking on the back of your neck. "Let me show you how good I can make you feel, darling", he hums, "Let me show you how a real man can make you feel."

And with that, he unceremoniously pulls the lace of your string apart, riiips it cleanly in two, lets the fabric fall to the floor, before spreading your legs further. His fingers dance over your cunt, gliding through your slick, before two of them dive back in on your clit. Rubbing wide, slow circles he has you gasping within seconds, watching his digits working you with your mouth agape - your hole clenches around nothing, hips bucking.

"Does that feel good, princess?", he sounds so so smug, like he knows that it does. You can feel your loins catching fire, slowly rolling your hips against his fingers.

"Y-yes, fuck yes", you huff, moaning quietly.

Christoph's finger delves deeper and circles your hole, has it fluttering under his touch, before he carefully pushes it in. You gasp, and he chuckles, feels the way your walls clench around him.

"You're so tight, princess", he pushes his finger in completely, curls it a little and you moan as it brushes over the spot that usually has you seeing stars - before he starts to move it slowly, agonizingly even, rubs your walls and feels you squeezing him.

Christoph can't wait to fuck you, to get his dick wet, feels himself growing even harder in his slacks at the thought. He has been thinking about it for so long, that touching you makes him a little dizzy, and it needs a whole lot of willpower not to throw you off his lap and push you into the cushions, ass up, pounding into you until you're a drooling, crying mess.

He really wants - needs - to take it slow, get a taste of every single second, make it last as long as he possibly can. He will make you beg for it, drunk with it; drunk with the way he is going to fuck you until you see stars, until there is nothing left on your mind but him and his dick pounding into you, his hands on your body. He had already made you dependant on him financially, and now, finally, he will own your body and its countless pleasures, too.

Christoph smiles to himself, all crinkled crow's feet, and white teeth, as you roll your hips against his finger, desperately adding some more friction. He loves giving it to you: pulls his finger out of you, only to push two back in, stretching your hole out a little. You are so fucking tight around his digits; he can feel the ring of muscles clutching and straining against his fingers. "No one's ever fucked you real good, Liebes, I can tell."

He shoves his fingers deeply into your cunt, gives you a short moment to assess to the feeling, before moving them slowly, fucking your slick in and out of you. First, your hips tremble and then you squirt, moaning deeply, wetness splashing against the palm of Christoph's hand. Gasping, you watch his other hand crawling between your legs, his index-finger slowly circling your clit.

Pleasure shoots through your body and you moan, goosebumps spreading over your body, your heartbeat rattling with lust. "Fuck", you gasp, head lolling back onto his shoulder.

With his lips ghosting over your strained neck, Christoph gently speeds up, harvests the desperate whines and gasps falling from your lips as he pushes his fingers in and out of you.

You feel like you do not even have to tell him what you want, what you like - it is like he hasn't only dug deep into your browser history, but also your brain - like he just knows which switch to flip, how to touch you and how to rile you up with a deadly precision. It also feels oddly familiar - his touch, his smell, your body pressing against his with lust and a thin layer of sweat - like he has known your body for years, like he had fingered and touched you a hundred times before.

And thus, you do not even have to vocalize it, that you need more, need it harder - he just knows, reads you like an opened book or a fucking road sign. Christoph starts to fuck you quickly, his fingers pushing your cream in and out of you, pussy gushing around his digits. Your hand flies to his wrist, clutches it tightly, as you moan and sigh, desperate of any sort of leverage.

The way he fingers you feels so fucking good and you wish it would never end, but you can already feel your muscles clenching and then his other hand starts to rub your clit hard, two slender fingers circling it quickly and you gasp, mewl.

"D-daddy", you shriek, walls clutching around his fingers rapidly as you feel your orgasm approaching quicker than any time before, "I-- I'm gonna-"

"Go ahead", he sounds amused, and the humiliation that floods you at his tone has your orgasm rolling over you, coming loose around his fingers on his command.

Shudders roll over your body as you cum, pathetic whimpers leaving your mouth while Christoph fucks you through your climax, fingers circling your clit and making you squirt against his digits. You are slowly coming back down to earth, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, before you moan, throwing your head back while you rock down on his long fingers, riding out your orgasm. Your juices squelch around his fingers as he rubs them along your walls, your squirt wet the sofa's cushions beneath. You can feel your slick running down your legs, and you gasp.

"There you go", Christoph coos, lips brushing over your exposed shoulder, his other hand still on your throat, thumb brushing over your jaw, "Doesn't that just feel wonderful, angel?"

You nod, a breathless Yes, Daddy escaping your lips - and you are just so turned on, fire in your loins and fresh wetness pooling between your legs, that you can't help it. You continue to roll your hips onto his fingers despite the last remains of your orgasm still rolling over you, gently and slowly rocking down, meeting the equally gentle thrusts of his fingers. Your cunt squelches as you squirt against the palm of his hand.

Christoph whistles lowly, pulls his fingers out of you - leaving you a whimpering mess - takes a good, long look at them in the dim, golden candle light. They glisten with your juices and he considers shoving them into your mouth for a moment, but the way you roll your hips onto him with your ass rubbing over his bulge, is fucking distracting, has him stalling.

"Oh fuck", you gasp, your head falling back on his shoulder, "Oh god, please, 'stoph, please please -"

"Oho", he chuckles smugly, "Still needy, little girl?"

You are. Your cunt aches, like you haven't just cum and made a mess out of the sofa beneath, but you feel so so empty. You need more. You need -

"N-need your cock, please! Daddy, please--", you roll your hips on his crotch, feeling his hard dick pressing against the soft linen, hot and heavy. He feels big against your wet and aching cunt, leaving stains on his expensive slacks, and you can't fucking wait to feel it inside of you.

Christoph grabs your hips hard, stalling your movement and pressing your slick pussy against his bulge. You can feel his hard cock twitching while you stain and wet the fabric and you moan, needily, while his tongue and lips graze over your shoulder, lapping at the soft skin.

And then, he suddenly buries his teeth in your shoulder - gentle but still hard enough to leave a mark - makes you gasp and sob, before he is licking over the bruised and red skin. Christoph's lips move up up up, over your neck, sucking and kissing. His tongue dances over the shell of your ear, his voice nothing but a deep rumble: "I can't wait to fuck you, darling. Been thinking about it a lot, I just can't get enough of you."

Your breath hitches, and you look over your shoulder, your gaze meeting his unrelenting one. "Please", you say quietly, his grey eyes boring into you, "Do it."

And then Christoph leans in, locks his lips with yours once more, licking into your mouth, while one of his hands wanders down, opens the fly of his pants. He is getting impatient now and you are, too, one of your hands joining his and pulling the hem of his boxers down. He is panting into your mouth, against your lips and your hand wraps around his cock, all hot and hard, gives it a few experimental strokes.

You wonder if he will fuck you like he kisses you; like he is going to swallow you whole, like he is never going to let you go again, with the way his nose digs into your cheek and his hands hold you close while his tongue explores your mouth in between open-mouthed kisses full of panting and groaning, leaving your lips plump and plush. You want him to fuck you like that - until there is nothing left but him.

His dick is bigger than you thought, long and just the right girth and you have trouble closing your hand around it fully. The way you stroke him, despite the angle being a little clumsy with your body in the way, has Christoph groaning into your mouth, licking your tongue, and gripping your waist, his other hand dipping back between your legs.

Your pussy is soaked, and he spreads your slick over the hot, plush skin - so responsive from your previous orgasm, that you gasp and moan against his lips, and he catches your lower lip, gently bites, and nibbles at it. Your hand massages his dick, your thumb occasionally flicking over its tip, smearing the drops of precum pooling beneath your digits. Eventually, Christoph is parting from you, cheeks blushed a little and pupils blown wide, swats your hands away. His voice is deep and dark, nothing but a low and soft whisper, that has the hairs on your body standing up as he addresses you again: "You fucking slut."

And that, that has you moaning. You never thought you'd hear such things from him, but the way his eyes grow dark and his voice rumbles in his chest you are certain, that something primal has kicked in his inner doors and makes itself comfortable. "First, you dress up like a whore for a hicktown-boy and now, all I have to do is to give you a cock and you're gone so quickly you won't even let go of it, eh?"

"It's jus'so big, Daddy, feels so good", you slur, already a little gone, trying to get your hands onto him once more. He tuts at you, shakes his head a little. "You'll get it back, sunshine, don't you worry."

Christoph grabs his dick with one hand - the other arm wraps around your frame and adjusts you in his lap, your naked, shivering body resting against his expensive linen - and presses it against your seeping hot cunt. The feeling alone makes your loins tingle, has you spreading your legs further.

You gasp, needy for him to finally fuck you, finally shove his cock into you. "Please, Daddy--", you whine, rolling your hips against his dick, wetting it with your juices.

"Been teasing me for so long", he sounds unnerved while thinking about it, his cock twitches against your hot cunt, "Did that get you off?"

"N-no", you mewl honestly, because you didn't, you did not know what you were doing to him. You feel guilty, wanting to make it right - to finally be good for him.

"Bet it did", he hums, not listening to you, "I will have to teach you some manners, one day."

Shivers tingle on your arms, run down your body and you nod, the promise of a punishment lingering in the air, your hole clenching around nothing at the mere thought of it. You need him - now. Need him to stuff your cunt, fuck you until you are a drooling mess, not a single thought remaining. "Daddy, please, just-"

"You know, I have kids your age", Christoph is slowly rubbing his cock along your cunt, the tip of it nudging against your clit, making you shiver and whimper. The complete and utter filth that leaves his mouth has you squirming on his lap, his tone - smug and calculating - makes him sound nearly proud that he's bagging someone as young and pretty like you. You can feel some fresh wetness spreading between your folds, warm and sticky, as he rubs his precum through them, eventually presses the thick tip against your waiting hole.

Christoph knows that you usually only let someone fuck you with a condom on, he has seen your contraception laying around in your room but he will make sure that tonight's a little different - he'll claim you, pump you full of his cum and make you remember the way it will mingle with your own juices.

Expecting you to protest as he finally pushes in without one on, he is genuinely surprised as you don't; instead, your hole flutters open, invites him in deeply, accompanied by the sweetest, softest, high-pitched moan he may have ever heard. The second your hot walls close around his dick, squeezing him tightly with your hole stretching around his thick cock, his face comes loose.

You can hear Christoph exhale deeply, a pleased and satisfied sound, his eyes falling shut and face growing soft as he relishes in the feeling of your throbbing, wet cunt. His dick isn't only bigger than you thought, it fucking feels like it, too. The thick head presses snugly against your cervix, while your hole stretches around its base, walls pressed against it, feeling his cock throb.

"Ah, that's it", he sighs quietly, hands gently rubbing your hips.

"'S good?", you slur, already a little out of it but wanting to be good for him, good for your Daddy.

"Better than I have ever dared to dream, darling", one of his hands brushes over your thigh, caresses the warm skin.

You sigh with the praise, hole clenching around the thick base of his cock while it stretches you out. "Y'feel so good, Daddy", you mumble, looking down to where his dick vanishes inside of you, has your cunt spread on it.

"That's my polite little girl", Christoph's hand brushes over your stomach, up up up and cups your right tit, gives it a firm squeeze.

"Why don't you start moving, sunshine? Make sure it will keep feeling good for me, hm?", he suggests, silky voice dripping with honey, and he lets go of a ragged breath as you do. Rolling your hips experimentally once, feeling his cock moving inside of you, and you quiver. It gently prods against your cervix with every moment, making you mewl and gasp.

Starting off slowly, you raise your hips and then move them back down carefully, feeling Christoph's cock stretching you out, rubbing along your walls. His hands brush over your thighs, your waist. "There you go, darling", he croons, lips brushing over your shoulders, "Keep going, make me feel good."

And you really want to - thus, you grow braver, lifting your hips and sinking back down quicker, rolling them on his cock. He groans, throaty and deep, hands digging into your thighs. You start to ride his dick, fucking yourself back onto him quickly, hands darting out to his knees, desperate for any sort of leverage as you lift your hips and sink back down.

Moaning, you throw your head back as your body sacks forward a little, back arched and Christoph gives your exposed ass a firm slap, before his hand snakes around your body, closes in around your throat. "Upright, girl", he scolds, has you gasping and straightening back up immediately. The hand does not vanish, instead, it adds pressure to your delicate neck, pressing your windpipe shut. Your hips stutter and your eyes widen, right before pleasure shoots through your body, hot waves of lust making you squirt against his cock. Your thighs clench, knees darting together. "Keep them open for me, baby girl", he huffs, his free hand darting between your thighs, grabbing your left and forcefully spreading your legs in the process.

Christoph's hand lets go of your throat, now laying gently against your soft skin instead and thus, keeping your upright on his lap, back arched. "Oh", you gasp, so fucking turned on, you might combust on the spot, "Oh, fuck -- Daddy!"

The hand on your thigh gropes you lightly, thumb brushing over your skin gently. You move up and down on his cock, cunt throbbing and walls squeezing him occasionally, while the tip of his dick prods against your cervix. The way Christoph's cock splits you open, rubs along your walls is delicious, has you gasping and whining.

"Mhm, don't you just look pretty, bouncing on your Daddy's cock like that?", the hand around your throat clutches once more and you moan, high pitched and whiny, hips bucking.

The lack of oxygen has your walls clenching around his dick as you rock down on it, hands desperately grabbing the linen of his slacks. The stretch in your back is deliciously painful, the hand on your throat adding to it.

Feeling your orgasm approaching slowly, you speed up a little more, the sounds of your slick skin hitting his cock filling your room, mingling with his groans and your whines. "There you go, sunshine", Christoph's praise is sweet and soft as you speed up a little more, rolling your hips up and down up and down, hands clutching the linen of his slacks, while you fuck yourself back onto his dick. You can feel your heart pounding in your throat, you can taste your arousal on the tip of your tongue, hear your blood singing with it.

With your cunt squeezing him, practically milking his cock as you rock down it, Christoph can't help but wanting more. The hand on your thigh sneaks between your legs, and he feels you shivering in his lap as his index-finger brushes against your clit. Your gasps are sweet and turn into dirty, wanton moans quickly as he starts to circle your clit with it and Jesus fucking Christ - he wishes he could hear it every day, when he wakes up, when he goes to bed, wishes he could just do nothing all day, only play with you, and make you cum over and over and over again. The way you roll your hips and fuck yourself onto his dick becomes more erratic, desperate and a little clumsy and his lips curl up - he just knows you're close.

"That's a good girl", Christoph coos, voice rough and deep, "Cum on my cock. Be a good girl and cum for me."

Adding pressure to your windpipe once more, he presses the hand around your throat down hard. Your hips buck wildly at the sudden lack of oxygen, lust shooting through your veins, while his finger rubs over your clit fast, in rhythm with the thrusts of your hips. You can feel your walls clenching heavily around his dick and then you cum, your orgasm hitting you with such force, that all you can do is gasp loudly. Any sound and thought is wiped from your body as your cunt squeezes his cock, pussy clenching and legs trembling, hips stuttering as you squirt and squirt, your cream gushing against his dick.

Christoph continues to fuck you through it, moaning quietly while you milk his cock, one arm wrapping around your waist and keeping you in place, the other slooowly letting go of your throat. You suck in desperate breaths, your senses slowly returning and you moan, high-pitched and sweetly, as you feel his dick pulsating inside of you.

"Yeah, just like that, sunshine", he groans, while he fucks you through your orgasm, cock twitching inside of you and shooting hot ropes of cum into your hole, painting your walls white, "Such a good girl, taking it all."

Humming with his praise, you spread your legs wide over his lap, letting his dick in a little deeper, welcoming his cum home. His free hand roams your inner thigh, gropes you gently, while he huffs and groans into your ear - the low sound making you shiver. You relish in the feeling of his warm body beneath you, feeling pumped full by his cum and his hands all over you, while your body grows a little sore, your pussy becoming plush and plump.

His dick is still buried inside of you, hard and hot and heavy. You feel so so full, with his cock preventing his cum from leaking out, only a few drops run out of your hole lazily, drip down his balls and onto the sofa. His cock doesn't seem to go noticeably flaccid, having you gasp and moan with the sensation, relishing in the feeling of him filling you up to the brim. You want to ask why he's still hard, but the question becomes obsolete as your gaze flickers to the coffee table. There's a blister of pills there, one cavity empty. The pills are blue.

Christoph's thumb rubs along your chin, catches on your lower lip. "Surprised, angel?", and you nod, only a dumb Uh-huh leaving your throat and he snickers at the sound, pushes his thumb into your mouth. Immediately, like you are fucking programmed to, you start sucking on it, pussy clenching around his hardening cock.

"Oh, my pretty baby, fucked your brains out already? And I am not even done yet", he sounds genuinely amused while his other hand brushes over your inner thigh and your skin and the nerves below are so so responsive to his touch, has you squirming in his lap and on his cock, mewling. It makes him groan, a low sound, vibrating deep in his throat.

"I have been waiting so long for this", he husks, "I didn't want for it to end too quickly, hm?"

You can feel him growing back to full size inside of you, within mere minutes. It feels nice, nice being so full and you are so far gone in that thickly sweet daze that you don't even think once, as you roll your hips lazily - once, twice - while his hands roam over your body, your lower belly, your waist, groping your tits.

Christoph touches you with a righteousness, like you belong to him, like he owns you. Like there's no one else but you.

But you know that's not true. You know that upstairs your mother is fast asleep, and that on her nightstand lays an expensive engagement ring with a huge-ass diamond. If you weren't so fucked out of your mind, you'd care and you'd wonder if this is a one-time thing.

As if he can read your thoughts, he says: "Don't you worry your pretty little head, princess. I won't marry her anymore - it's only you darling, always been."

And you sigh, his sweet talk wrapping you in as he pushes his hips upwards once, buries himself deep into your cunt, hits your cervix. You look over your shoulder, and your gazes meet.

One of his hands comes up, rests on your cheek while he starts to fuck you slowly, softly pants with the way his dick slips in and out of you. "Oh, my sweet baby", Christoph coos while you are hissing quietly as his cock brushes over your overstimulated walls, spreads your tight and aching hole, your hand clutching his wrist.

"Daddy, i-it's too much", you mewl and he pouts at you playfully, shakes his head.

"No, it isn't, is it? You can take it", his thumb caresses your cheek, gives you a sweet peck on the lips, "Be a good girl and take it. You can give me one more."

But you physically can't, and neither does your pussy, walls tightening around him, pushing against his hard dick. "Oh, das machen wir aber nicht, hm?", Christoph scolds, his other hand diving back between your spread legs, two fingers gently circling your clit. You hum, body immediately relaxing, and within a few moments the dull pain of him assaulting your used hole vanishes in thin air, sharp gasps escaping your parted lips, your juices running down your cunt.

"There we are. I knew you could take it", his grin is nothing but devilish, peppers your cheek with soft kisses, "I'm so proud of you, sunshine, hm? Taking it so much better than your mom. I knew you'd be the one."

Stretching your already used cunt further, he nestles back in fully, sighs deeply. "Like you were made for me, angel."

"Yes", you sigh sweetly, because you sure feel like it. Gently, careful even, Christoph continues to circle your clit, pinching and rubbing it. Your body slowly, slowly sinks away from you, growing light and all that is left is the feeling of his hands touching you, his cock buried deep inside of you. Every nerve-ending tingles with it, your brain only focussed on him and the way he feels, the way he smells, the way he sounds. The only thing left is him.

Your body goes limp, arms dangling at your sides as Christoph grabs your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh, and thrusts you onto his cock - once, twice. Deep thrusts, that make your blood sing.

"O-oh, oh Daddy", you gasp, eyes rolling back. Your body practically goes up in hot, burning flames of lust, sparks tingling in your thighs and your chest and you want him to run his hands all over you and feel you up, but you also don't want him to stop manhandling you like he does - all his pent up energy coming lose, practically giving you taste of how long and cruel his wait had been. If you weren't so fucked out of your mind, everything a little hazy already, you would touch yourself, but you just can't - all you can do is spread your legs wider, mouth agape while you pant and moan, relishing in the delicious feeling of his dick fucking you into oblivion.

Your jaw goes slack with it, head lolling back onto his shoulder as he uses you, hammers you down on his dick like a fleshlight. Christoph's grip on your waist and hips is hard enough to leave bruises and tomorrow morning you will be able to see them, an angry red, count the ways he marked you as his.

The thought of you being nothing more to Christoph than his pretty little cocksleeve - young and attractive - that he can take anywhere and fuck whenever he pleases, makes your head swim. You think about him dragging you along to some award-show, showing you off on the carpet and then bending you over the sink in one of the bathrooms because another actor looked at you for a second too long, fucking you until you can't really walk anymore - only to later sit in the award ceremony and feeling his cum leaking out of you. You think of him taking you out for dinner to a fancy restaurant - maybe even with some of his Hollywood-friends - playing with your pussy at the dinner table, whispering sweet nothings in your ear - just because he can, because who would even dare to stop him? You think about visiting him on set, waiting for him in his hotel room - adorned in the jewellery he has gifted you, nothing on but a revealing set of lingerie - waiting for him to take his stress out on you.

It makes you fucking wet, squirt gushing from your cunt, that runs down your folds and that he pumps back into your wanton hole. "Jesus, fuck", you whine, starting to roll your hips with the way he thrusts you down on his dick, feeling him deep deep inside of your pussy, thick head brushing over and hitting your cervix. Hearing him moan with it nearly makes you lose your mind.

You cry out - overstimulated, but so so horny - with his cum squelching out of you with every single thrust, mingling with your juices and dripping, squirting onto the sofa. There are pleas falling from your lips as you yell out with lust and Christoph's quick to clasp one hand around your mouth, your cries and deep moans muffled by the palm of his hand. Your eyelids flutter as you fuck yourself back against his thrusts, his cock hitting your cervix and pain and lust ignite your body, making you want to curl up and just take take take what he gives you.

You feel like you are on fire, your whole body responding to his touch and his thrusts, every single nerve in your body on high alert, as you feel your orgasm coming closer.

Looking down, you can see how he is still thrusting your body down on his dick and you watch, panting. Seeing just how he is using you, like you are nothing but a delicate toy --

It's what tips you over.

A high-pitched scream escapes your mouth as you cum, muffled by his hand pressing against your mouth - before he pulls away, allows you to suck in a few deep breaths through your opened mouth.

Your body practically convulses on his cock, shakes rattling your frame as your third orgasm rolls over you, creaming and squirting against his dick, making a pretty mess of his linen slacks and the sofa beneath. You have left quite a few nasty stains tonight, and your cheeks will turn red in a few days, when your mother spots them and Christoph lies to her face.

Your cunt squeezes his dick and you can feel it twitch heavily inside of you, once, twice, and then he cums too, shoots hot ropes of cum inside of your pussy once more. You feel so fucking full, like you are about to burst, as you roll your hips against his, cunt gushing around his cock.

"Oh fuck", you moan sweetly, sacking back against him. You can hear him pant, one hand on your waist coming lose and resting gently on your stomach, rubbing loose circles over your warm skin.

"What a good girl, huh", he whispers, coarse and exhausted. His words barely reach you through the thick cloud, everything turns white and a soft numbness embraces you, makes you feel featherlight, like you are flying. Christoph's arms wrap you in gently, pulling your naked form close to his, the soft linen crinkling and pressing against your naked back.

You stay like this for a while, with his large and soft hands caressing your skin - rubbing your stomach and gently stroking your thigh - until your breath becomes deeper again, your limbs start to feel heavier, more connected to your body once more. "Oh God", you sigh, feeling his cock still plugging your hole up. It grows flaccid slowly, a few drops of his cum already leaking out of you.

Christoph's lips dance along your shoulder, your neck, kissing and pressing down onto the warm skin. His hands grip your hips tightly. "Ready?", and he sounds so so playful, like he is really enjoying this - taking some depraved satisfaction from it - and you can't help but nod, readying for him to pull out.

He lifts your hips, watches how his dick slips out of your hole easily, hears you hiss with it, and then it trickles down. Thick drops, streaks of white cum flush from your used cunt, and he's quick to swipe his fingers along your folds - spreads your pussy and his cum, collects it with his fingers.

They enter your vision and without thinking, like you're still far gone - despite the fact that you aren't - he shoves them between your obediently opened, waiting lips. You close them around his fingers, while the remains of his cum drip out of you still, and start to clean them up, sucking on them, tongue swirling around his digits.

"That's a good girl", his praise has your blood singing, and you whine in protest as Christoph pulls his fingers from your mouth, "So, tell me - where do you go the next time you want a good fuck?"

"To you, Daddy", you say softly, earning you a warm chuckle and a pat on the thigh.

***

Your legs are still wobbly as you make your way downstairs in the morning and out onto the terrace. Your mother and Christoph are sitting in the sun, a light breeze rolling around the terrace, making the seam of the table cloth sway gently.

Your mother is silently eating her breakfast while Christoph rustles with his French newspaper. He appears to be interested in the Feuilleton but you notice how his gaze flickers to you as soon as you're approaching the table, remains glued to your figure, small lines forming around his eyes.

"Oh, honey!", your mother gets up, happy that you are awake, and gives you a featherlight kiss on the cheek, "Oh god, you look horrible, darling! Did you sleep unwell?"

Christoph snorts, but your mother ignores it - holds you at arm length, iron grip around your arms as she assesses your timid frame.

"Yeah, 's just the heat", you mutter, freeing yourself from her death grip and sit down, flinching a little. You're so fucking sore, legs still heavy and hole aching, pussy begging for another touch through the slight pain. Christoph deliberately puts down the newspaper, a smug smile toying at the corners of his lips. It grows rather surprised than complacent as he takes you in fully.

You are wearing one of the dresses he had bought you. You also draped a silk scarf around your shoulders, hiding the viciously glowing bitemark he gave you. His face is expressionless as he looks at you, his cold stare boring into you. For a moment you think, he might rat you out - tell your mother that you snuck out last night.

But he doesn't. Instead, he wordlessly pours you a glass of freshly pressed orange juice, hands it over to you. Your fingers brush over his, goosebumps spreading over your skin at the thought that just a couple of hours, they had been in you, fucking you to hell and back.

You can still feel them inside of you, growing wet at the thought, squirming a little in your chair. If it weren't for your mom sitting right next to you, you'd get up and beg him to fuck you. Your pussy aches at the imagery that your brain conjures up; tits bouncing, one leg hooked over his shoulder, the expensive dress pooling around your waist, glasses on the table clinking with each thrust.

Your mother - oblivious to what is happening in front of her - brabbles on about her plans for the day, while Christoph's gaze is chained to yours.

It feels like his eyes are undressing you, a shadow dances over his greyish eyes, turning them into a darkened sky. Your hand grips the glass tightly, thighs rubbing together. You really wish you could just --

"Careful", he says quietly, pointing at your hand clutching your glass so hard your knuckles start to turn white, and you let go of it, like you just burned yourself. The glass nearly topples over on the white table cloth, the juice trickles down the insides of it lazily, silent testimony to an accident prevented. He's right - it might've burst.

Thank you for taking care of me, Daddy. You want to get up and thank him properly, unzip his pants and --

"Don't you think, that'd be nice, honey?", your mother chimes, still busy with her avocado, and pulls you out of your daydream - you on your knees with Christoph rubbing his cock and balls across your face and making you look like a cheap whore, before he slips it between your plush, waiting lips with their red lipstick smudged - you barely manage not to moan aloud, quickly turning your head her way.

"Huh?", you blink dumbly.

"Honey", she scoffs, "I said - Do you wanna go to the beach today?"

You rather wouldn't. Especially not with your mother around, gushing about the man who fucked you senseless last night. You would rather spend the day with him alone.

Thus, your gaze flickers back to Christoph quicker than you can think about it, quicker than you can stop yourself from doing it. He gives you the slightest nod, that goes completely unnoticed by your mother and rearranges his reading glasses.

Thank you for thinking for me, Daddy.

"Sure, why not?", you can hear yourself say. Christoph rustles with his newspaper and somewhere, in the trees, a bird chimes.

[unculturedswine-101]

Lemme spoil u bitches <33

[one-boring-person]

You'll Only Regret It.

August Rosenbluth (Water For Elephants) x reader

Warnings: alcohol consumption, drunkeness, slight sexual themes, swearing (in German)

Context: August comes to the reader after Marlene and Jacob leave

A/n: I have a real thing going for Christoph Waltz right now, so expect more fics like this :) also this will likely be a two-parter

Also, tagging @jawline-of-steel because we're both whores for his man and I love you, so have fun ;)

Masterlist

The impatient knocking on the side of the train car snaps me from my thoughts, surprising me considerably; nobody comes to me at this hour. 

Putting down the book in my hands, I climb off of my makeshift bed, frowning as the rapping becomes louder, a voice joining it, calling out my name. I recognise it immediately, curious now as I go to the large sliding door, using my weight to heave it open, allowing cool night air to rush into the warm interior. As I thought, I can see a familiar figure standing out there, a scowl on his handsome face.

"August? What's wrong?" I ask him right off the bat, knowing he only ever seeks me out this late at night if something has happened. 

His sharp eyes find mine, his jaw clenching as he goes to speak.

"Can I come in?" The ringleader requests, accent thicker now that he's in a bad mood, the smooth timbre roughened by alcohol, which I can see grasped in his hand.

Nodding, I lean down to offer him a hand.

"Of course." 

He accepts my help, using my grip to swing himself up into the old train car, his hand rough in mine, calloused from years of physical labour. As he draws closer, I catch a whiff of the familiar scent that clings to him: cologne, cigarette smoke and the indescribable tang of fresh air, marred only slightly now by the presence of whisky on his breath. Passing into my living space, August stands awkwardly in the middle, as if waiting for me to direct him to a seat. Unfortunately, I don't have anywhere comfortable to sit, so I quickly close the car door and go to the bed, straightening the covers before gesturing for him to sit. 

Without a word, he takes a seat, leaning back against the wall, shirt pulling across his firm chest until he loosens it, placing his bottle of whisky at the foot of the bed. I can't help but watch as he works open the top three buttons of his shirt, admiring his good looks in the lamplight. The steady glow casts his smooth skin in a warm hue, accentuated now by the whiteness of his shirt. 

Shaking myself from my thoughts, I take a seat beside him, keeping a small gap between us for now. Wordlessly, he hands me his bottle, letting me take a sip before he retrieves it again, doing the same. We sit together in relative silence for a long moment, content to be in each other's company, listening to the sounds of the other workers outside, the noise of their merriment easily carrying through the walls of the old carriage. 

"She left me." August finally speaks, voice quiet.

"Marlene? When?" I turn to him, surprised at his words; the woman had told me once she'd never leave him, that she had nothing to leave for.

"Some time after the show." His lip curls, "She went with that damn veterinarian."

His tone is harsh, but I can hear a sadness underneath, a sorrow he'll be unlikely to show anyone, even me. 

August and I had met when the circus first started. I'm the longest working employee he's got, acting as a repairs worker whenever something goes wrong, so we've become fast friends in our time together, despite the age gap between us. We come to each other with most, if not all problems, forming a long-lasting friendship that will likely carry on far into the future. We have a few disputes: I disagree with his violent actions towards the animals, and he's often irritated when I comment about it, though he has, in recent years, abated slightly. 

"Jacob?" My brow furrows as I struggle to recall the name, having had very little interaction with the man.

At the mention of his name, August makes a sound of disgust.

"Yes, him."

I frown, silently marvelling at how quickly the boy had managed to rope the star attraction in - she's never been easy, so it's quite a feat he managed to talk to her at all. I go to speak, but August beats me to it, getting incensed now, the alcohol in his system firing him up faster than I'd like.

"She never appreciated what I gave her, never loved me how I loved her. I did anything I could to make her happy, but no, she'd rather go off with some kid who can barely support himself. What does she see in him? Am I not enough?" He speaks quickly, gesturing animatedly with his hands, sounding genuinely upset by the occurrence, though his choice in wording strikes me as odd, "Verdammte Tierarzt (damned veterinarian)."

The ringleader's head falls to his chest and I realise there are tears in his eyes, his fists clenching in his lap. Sympathy fills me, my heart aching for the distraught man before me, my own hand hesitantly finding its way into his, sliding between his palms as he allows me to hold them. Interlocking our fingers, I gently squeeze, trying to get him to look up at me, which he does so after a moment, keeping eye contact as he reaches over and takes another drink of his whisky. It's only now that he's staring right at me that I can see exactly how drunk he really is: not enough so he doesn't speak with some control over what he means, but enough to render him slightly less hindered by the usual inhibitions his mind puts in place.

"August, listen to me. Marlene appreciated everything you did for her. She knew her life only became what it did because of you, and she worked hard to earn that. You were more than enough." I tell him, keeping eye contact with him, "As for Jacob, he just happened to be in the right place at the right time. He got lucky."

"You...you really think so?" He sniffs, showing a vulnerability I've never seen in him.

I nod, giving him a small but reassuring smile, squeezing his hands.

"I'm sure." I emphasise, trying to ignore the way my heart yearns to hold him and reassure him. 

He watches me, before leaning in and wrapping me in a tight hug, pulling me so far into him that I'm almost on his lap. Surprised but not opposed to his movement, I return the embrace, enjoying the feeling of being encompassed by the secure, safe warmth of the man I've come to care for. Holding him tightly, I go to move to be more comfortable, only to squeak when he suddenly pulls me into his lap, arms tight around my waist, face buried in the crook of my neck, breaths heavy on my skin. I shiver slightly under the contact, lifting a hand to lightly caress the small hairs at the back of his neck, resting my head on his shoulder. 

We remain like that for a while, his scent strong around us as he allows himself to relax into the embrace, the alcohol clearly taking a stronger effect now. His hands are spread flat against my back, though they move now to grip my hips, pulling me into his chest. 

I can't help the sound of surprise that escapes me when I feel his lips make contact with the sensitive skin of my neck, pressing deliberately in a slow, hot kiss. Stiffening but unable to help the shiver of pleasure, I bite my lip as August trails his lips further down, leaving another kiss in his wake as he begins to mouth at my throat. Groaning softly into my skin, the ringleader grips me tightly, his nose tracing a line up to my jawline, which he then follows back down with his tongue, one of his hands reaching up to cup my face, angling my head more towards him. 

Sighing in pleasure, I try to lean out of his hold, failing as he gives me a sharp nip, sucking over the mark to soothe it, likely leaving a mark behind.

"August...ah...you need to stop…" I manage, pushing lightly at his chest, only for him to use his other hand to push under my loose shirt, pressing flat against my bare skin. Before I can stop myself, I'm arching into his touch, accidentally giving him more room to pepper kisses all over my neck. The hand on my back quickly dips down, running over my ass briefly before he grips it, using the hold to push me further into him, his hips beginning to grind up into mine, grunts of pleasure escaping him even as I bite back my own sounds.

"August, you're drunk...We can't do this…." I tell him, barely holding back a moan as he suddenly moves his hand round to my crotch, rubbing over the sensitive area. Shockwaves of pleasure erupt from the touch, but I hold firm, gripping his shoulders tightly as I fight to keep my composure. I can't let him do something he'll regret in the morning. 

Fighting my disappointment, I take hold of August's wrists, using my grasp to pry him from me, lifting one hand to cup his jaw as he groans in irritation. Lifting his head to make eye contact, I smile at his needy expression, finding myself taken by the darkened gaze he has fixed on me. 

"I can't let you do this, August. You'll only wish you hadn't." I tell him regretfully, somewhat saddened by the knowledge that I'm likely right.

"No...I want you...I need you, (Y/n)...I've always wanted you…" He slurs, trying to kiss me on the lips before I lean out of his reach.

"You need sleep." I inform him, trying to ignore the way my heart pounds now at his revelation, hoping it to be true, even though I have a feeling it's not. Climbing up out of his lap, I kneel beside him and direct him to lie down on the bed, pulling off his boots as I do so. Pulling the blanket up over him, I place the bottle some distance away, going to walk past August to the chair in the corner, wishing I'd taken the time to refurbish it properly now. As I step past, a hand shoots out and grabs my arm, holding me in place. 

Looking down, I see August gazing up at me.

"Stay...please?" He tugs lightly on my sleeve, and I find that I can't refuse him, his expression striking a chord somewhere inside me. 

Nodding, I climb in beside him, keeping my back to him so he doesn't try anything funny, pulling the covers over us. It's not long before he reaches out and pulls me into him, wrapping his arms tightly around me, pressing his chest flush to my back. I can feel his breaths on my cheek as he sighs, relaxing with me in his hold. Warmth floods me, my own body relaxing into his as I feel myself wishing I could stay in the circle of his arms forever, feeling sleep creeping up on me faster than I hoped it would. 

Before I drift off, I feel his arms tighten around me once more, his face burying itself in my hair as he begins to snore lightly, lulling me to sleep.

[jacobseedz]

art. perfection.

i love you Christoph Waltz

( pics don’t belong to me, credit to the rightful owners )

[marketinghero]

How one B2B brand is taking inspiration from consumer marketing

B2B marketing is all too often see as the poor cousin of consumer marketing, yet SAP’s CMO believes the two have more in common than most people think. I meet Alicia Tillman while she is in London in part to attend the Fortune Most Powerful Women Summit. The agenda is full of speakers who work at brands such as ITV, Procter & Gamble and Booking.com, not the most obvious place for the CMO of a software company to find inspiration. But Tillman is here because she believes B2B marketing needs to become much more like its consumer cousin, moving away from messages that resonate with business to ones that resonate with people. “B2B needs to move the way we market so much more into consumer practices,” she explains. “Consumer brands have always been about connecting personally with your buyer, whereas B2B you are more often focused on connecting with the goals of the company. “You connect yourself more to business metrics – savings, control, transparency, optimisation. Whereas in consumer you are focused on relevancy, feelings, emotion, experience. I find that is what B2B marketing needs to become and is so much of the journey we have been on at SAP for the past two years.” Tillman has spent her career in B2B, starting at travel management services company Rosenbluth International. In 2004, it was bought by American Express, where she spent 11 years before joining SAP in 2015. Initially she took on the role of CMO at its B2B marketplace SAP Ariba, before becoming the marketing boss of the whole business in August 2017. One of the first things she did on becoming CMO was streamline its communications and give the company a “brand narrative”. She did this because she found that, despite the company having a lot of messages and campaigns, there wasn’t a thread that tied them all together. B2B needs to move the way we market so much more into consumer practices. Alicia Tillman, SAP “We didn’t have a brand narrative, something that really articulates our purpose and what the value is we are looking to provide to our customers, that would serve as the anchor for our campaigns, sales strategies and innovation,” says Tillman. “Creating a narrative that works to do all of that and then serves as the anchor for everything you do from there helps to protect our purpose and authenticity.” SAP’s ‘brand narrative’ To find that, she went back through the 47-year history of the company to find the reason it was created – which is to “help the world run better and improve people’s lives”. To communicate that, she brought back a tagline SAP had used 15 years ago, ‘The Best Run’, but updated it to make it “modern and relatable”. That meant shifting the focus from operations to outcomes – rather than communicating how SAP helps companies run better it now communicates how the best run companies make the world run better. It culminated in a new global ad campaign, created by BBDO New York, that ran across TV, outdoor, print, digital, social media and its own websites that featured actor Clive Owen and stories of SAP customers using its tech to solve societal, environmental and economic challenges. “No matter if you are in CPG or pharma or politics, they are all about human relevancy, experiences and how we connect and personalise more at a human level. It is prevalent no matter what your professions, your job title, the business sector you are in – people want to buy from people that understand them,” she says. That’s a sentiment that is backed up by a new study from marketing consultant Peter Field and Les Binet, head of effectiveness at adam&eveDDB. Using the IPA’s databank, they have for the first time taken a look at B2B marketing campaigns to see if the same rules on effectiveness apply. What they found surprised many – namely that B2B and consumer are more similar than most would think. Brand building, broad targeting and emotions are still important in B2B, especially as companies get larger. It’s an outcome that doesn’t surprise Tillman. “B2B marketers can get much better at storytelling. Journalists are in the business of telling and writing a story that their readers will be interested in, that is no different to how I am trying to market the products of SAP or how P&G is trying to market its products and brands,” says Tillman. “How we tell that story, I would like there to be more emphasis put on that all around.” READ MORE: Why B2B brands need to invest in brand marketing She wants that emphasis to start when marketers are being trained. She suggests the clear distinctions made between consumer and B2B marketing at academic institutions are a major problem, and that more training needs to be done on building B2B strategies where there are differences. “It needs to start with our academic institutions that are training the future talent. There are clear distinctions that are made between consumer and B2B marketing but there are more general applications of marketing that are less specific to consumer versus B2B. “I also believe that marketing in B2B is not held as in high regard as consumer-based marketing. When you are in consumer marketing your success or failure rate of your product is based on the quality of the way you market the product and that is very different in B2B. Academically, we need to really get granular on how you understand and can build strategies because there are fundamental differences. But I also think that there are not… At the heart is always your ability to communicate properly.” She adds: “It doesn’t matter whether you are in consumer or B2B, we’re all in the business of helping our companies grow. Storytelling is perceived more as something you do at a consumer level versus B2B.” Becoming a top 10 global brand Another area where Tillman believes B2B can learn from consumer marketing is in targeting. She admits B2B has previously been guilty of honing in too much one particular job title – for SAP the CIO – when in reality there is no one person that makes a decision at a business. Diversity of reach is now one of her team’s key metrics. “Looking at the diversity of the reach is something we pay an incredible amount of attention to. Just reaching the CIO is not good enough because the CIO Is not the sole decision-maker,” she says. “The reality is, and this is a significant shift, no longer is there a single decision-maker for technology within a company.” SAP also tries to balance short-term sales metrics with long-term brand building. Measures such as purchase consideration, new business, acceleration of its sales pipeline, conversion and revenue are all key, particularly proving that marketing activity drives conversion at a high rate to revenue. But its “biggest” metric is brand value. SAP has an ambition to become the first pure B2B brand to make it into the top 10 of Millward Brown’s BrandZ listing of the world’s most valuable brands. When Tillman joined it was at number 21 but climbed to 17 in 2018 and is hoping to see further growth when this year’s results are revealed next week (Marketing Week will have exclusive access to this data on Tuesday). She admits it is a tough task, particularly because once in the top 20 competition is so strong. But Tillman believes SAP is doing “a lot of the right things” and so she is “optimistic” it can continue to rise up the rankings. We believe business today is won or lost based on the quality of your experience and that doesn’t matter whether you are in the consumer business or the business business. Alicia Tillman, SAP “I believe we are doing a lot of the right things to really build what are typically the characteristics of the most valuable brands in the world,” she says. “We have always built technology that disrupts industries, we have a very consistent brand story which we have paid particular attention to because big companies often have a somewhat fragmented message especially if selling to different buyers and attracting influencers, we’re very purpose-driven and finally we are all about service in support of the customer.” That goal also helps to focus the mind of staff, not just in marketing but also sales and product development, who might otherwise get lost in the day-to-day “Our brand goals are an incredible motivator for the team. Oftentimes people set big goals and it’s something fun for a week then they go back to the day-to-day but becoming one of the 10 most valuable brands is something everyone in marketing talks to me about and what they’re doing to help support that goal. That is what inspires everyone.” While SAP has shifted its marketing over the past two years, there is still more work to do. SAP is currently trying to establish a new business category that it refers to as ‘experience management’, which aims to use operational data (or ‘o’ data) and experience data (or ‘x’ data) to improve what it offers its clients and they can therefore offer their customers. “This is really going to be a tremendous shift in terms of how we market and position the brand of SAP. This is the moment strategically when we say there is no longer a difference between B2B and consumer,” she concludes. “We believe business today is won or lost based on the quality of your experience and that doesn’t matter whether you are in the consumer business or the business business.” The post How one B2B brand is taking inspiration from consumer marketing appeared first on Marketing Week.

[unculturedswine-101]

Lemme bless yo feed with long haired ‘stoph

[unculturedswine-101]

August Rosenbluth edit for u bitches thirsty for daddy Christoph

[unculturedswine-101]

Another edit, this time of daddy Landa

[unculturedswine-101]

Hey everyone! Thank you for all the love on my Once Upon a Time in Hollywood fics with Christoph! I thought I would provide a place where you can find all the parts so you can keep track!

(**includes smut, feel free to skip)

Chapter 1: Once Upon a time..in Hollywood

Chapter 2: The Playboy Mansion

**Chapter 3: Home sweet home

[one-boring-person]

A fic request for August (Water for Elephants):

Where he sees Jacob flirting with y/n and gets jealous and reminds her who she belongs to (nsfw)

Also I love your writing so talented urbriekwne

Thank you so much! I hope you like this!😊💛

Reminder.

August Rosenbluth (Water For Elephants) x f!reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, oral, light spanking, light degradation, dirty talk

Masterlist

(Note: where I've used the word "spit", I've used it as a way of speaking, not the action of spitting)

Want to support me more? Buy me a coffee!

Tagging @alan-is-my-ginger-princess @jawline-of-steel @daddywaltz @creme-bruhlee

"Jacob, you're needed with the horses." August's voice is sickly sweet as he comes up behind me, the hand that is placed on my back possessive and promising of more. I swallow as I feel the ringleader step closer, his chest mere centimetres away from me.

The vet looks surprised, opening his mouth as if to say something, only to see what is undoubtedly a scathing look in August's eyes. His mouth closes and he nods, jaw clenching as he looks to me for some help. I don't offer him any, knowing it's futile now.

"Yes, August." He grumbles, turning to skulk off to the animal enclosures. 

Almost immediately, August's grip on me moves to my arm, which he grasps tightly, turning me to face him. My blood goes cold at the dark look on his face, despite the sharp spike in my pulse as I see the hungry glitter in his eyes.

"You and I are going to have a word." He almost growls at me, voice low and dangerous 

He doesn't wait for me to reply, turning and dragging me to his train car near the front of the train. I have to fight to keep up with him, stumbling as he roughly pulls me along behind him, my heart racing in anticipation. It's hard for me to concentrate as he eventually reaches his carriage, opening the door and shoving me inside, getting in and locking the door behind him. Instantly, he fixes me with a hard stare. 

"Did you enjoy that?" His accent is more pronounced in his anger, quiet fury blazing behind gleaming eyes.

I look confused, though I know what he's referring to.

"What?"

August steps closer, looking menacing.

"You know damn well what I mean." His voice is quiet, seething, "Did you enjoy that? Flirting with that imbecile?"

"I didn't-" I go to protest, but the ringleader is faster, stepping forward with surprising speed, my chin taken roughly in one hand.

"Oh, yes you did. Maybe it isn't clear who you belong to?" He practically spits in my face, crowding me into the wall, "Maybe you need a reminder."

I can't help but let out a soft moan at the meaning behind his words, swallowing tightly.

August scoffs.

"Yes, I think you do. And you're already moaning for me. Like a little bitch in heat." He gets closer, his hand moving to my hair, gripping it tightly, "Get on your knees. Now!"

He forces my head down, my body following as I drop to my knees in front of him, finding the quarters cramped between his body and the wall. But I look up at him obediently nonetheless, trying not to rub my thighs together for friction.

"You know what I want, (Y/n). Put that mouth of yours to good use." August commands me, jerking his hips towards me, a bulge already beginning to form as he watches me.

Swallowing, I lift my hands and deftly undo his trousers, pulling them down with his underwear, licking my lips at the sight of his semi-hard cock. I can feel his eyes on me as I reach out and take him in my hand, dragging my palm over him a few times before I lean in and take him into my mouth. Pressing my tongue against the thick intrusion, I squeeze my eyes shut and allow him to slide as deep as he can, letting his cock rest against my lower lip whilst I catch my breath. Immediately, he growls and pulls my hair.

"Keep your eyes open." 

Obediently, I open my eyes and stare up at him as he starts to thrust into my mouth, hips rolling smoothly. Bitten-back groans of lust leave the ringleader's lips, his eyes dark with desire, hand tight in my hair. Every thrust takes the tip of his cock to the back of my throat, allowing it to tap against the sensitive skin. Moaning around him, I watch as his face twists in pleasure, his hips jerking reactively. It doesn't take long for his thrusts to become more erratic.

August braces himself with one hand on the wall, before suddenly slamming his cock into my mouth. It slides down the back of my throat, causing me to make a sound of surprise, swallowing around him as he repeats the movement, grunting above me as he fucks my mouth, using me to chase his own pleasure. Precum already spreads on my tongue, drool running from my stretched lips as I let him do as he pleases, unable to take my eyes off the near-carnal lust above me.

With one last growl of pleasure, August suddenly thrusts one last time, going as deep as he can, holding my head against his crotch as he jerks and twitches in my throat. Cum spills out of him, filling my mouth as he forces me to take it, waiting until he's entirely spent before removing himself. 

"Swallow it. Swallow it like the obedient little girl I know you are." The ringleader spits down at me, watching as I swallow down the bitter cum in my mouth. 

"Good. Now on the bed, ass up." August's voice is rough with lust, his cock already twitching again as he waits for me to follow his instruction. 

Hastily, I do as he says, clambering to my feet and rushing over to the bed, stripping as I go, knowing the unspoken command is there. Getting into position, I wait for him to approach me, anticipation coursing through me. 

After a moment, I feel his hand, smooth and yet calloused from years in the ring, run over one ass cheek, fingers pressing in gently as he grips the flesh. Moaning softly, I push back into his touch, only to yelp in surprise as he suddenly slaps his palm against me, sending a shockwave of pleasure-pain through me. 

"You needy little girl, you'll do anything to take my cock, won't you?" August taunts me, repeating his action as I whine in response, "Answer me when I talk to you!"

I moan as he spanks me again, ass beginning to heat up now.

"Yes! I'll do anything for your cock, anything!" I moan out for him, trying to push my ass back against August's crotch, aching to feel his cock slide deep inside me.

"That's right...you're a little slut for me, aren't you?" He leans down over me and bites my shoulder, using one hand to reach under me and roughly knead one of my breasts.

"Yes…" The pleasure welling up inside me at his ministrations rises quickly, my sex likely dripping now. 

August seems to notice, lowering the hand on my ass to run two fingers through my folds, laughing harshly at the sharp moan I let out as he passes over my clit. Chuckling, he presses his fingers against me, rubbing much harder now, drawing out loud sounds from me at the onslaught of pleasure, my body writhing under his touch. Clutching at the bedsheets, I can feel the knot inside me start to tighten, my need swiftly coming to a head. 

And then he stops. 

August removes his hand, only to replace it swiftly with his cock, which he drives harshly into my clit, nudging it with force. Crying out, I arch my back, moaning louder as he suddenly presses my face down into the bed, using his other hand to guide his cock to my entrance. With one sharp movement, he ploughs into me.

Immediately, the ringleader sets a punishing pace, his cock slamming into me with force as he presses me into the mattress, grunting and groaning with every hard thrust into me. My pussy clenches around him, pleasure blazing through me. 

Wet, obscene noises mingle with the brazen slapping of skin, grunts and moans from the two of us accompanying them. Mine are far louder than his, yet I can still hear the gasps and pants he lets out, each thrust punctuated by a sound of ecstasy and need. His grip on me tightens, fingers digging into my hip so hard I know they'll leave bruises tomorrow. 

All of a sudden, he pulls out again, leaving me shocked. I don't have time to dwell on it, as I instantly find myself being manhandled so that I'm on my knees, hands braced on the wall, ass presented to him. August moves up behind me, pressing his body against mine as he slides back inside, the two of us groaning in satisfaction as he returns to my warmth. 

Once more, he thrusts into me hard and fast, his balls slapping against my clit now as he pounds into me. With this new angle, more sensitive spots are being hit inside me, pleasure building fast as he fucks me, his hands on my breasts, kneading and massaging them whilst his mouth decorates my neck with harsh bruises and bite marks. His tongue caresses every rough mark he leaves behind, teeth grazing over my pulse as he lowers one hand to my clit.

"Who does this pussy belong to, (Y/n)? Who do you belong to?" August growls in my ear, thrusting into me to emphasise his words.

"You, August!" I moan out, breathlessly.

He nearly snarls, lifting a hand to grab my throat, choking me now as he tries again.

"Louder, (Y/n), who do you belong to?"

"I belong to you!" I cry, tilting my head back as his grip on my throat tightens.

"Louder! Who do you belong to? Who's making you feel this good, (Y/n)?" August's hips move erratically now, fingers rubbing my clit relentlessly.

I moan loudly at the stimulation, feeling close to orgasming.

"You! I belong to you, August! My pussy belongs to you!" I almost scream out, desperately rocking down on him now as I chase my climax, needing it badly. 

"That's right, (Y/n), and I'm the only one who can make you cum like this!" August spits in my ear, suddenly pushing me over the edge, sending me into an explosive orgasm, my eyes squeezing shut as white-hot floods through me. Screaming in ecstasy, I collapse into the wall, feeling August thrust twice more before he, too, finishes, spilling deep inside me.

For a while, we remain silent, panting on the bed together, recovering from the unbelievable bliss from moments before.

"I should make you jealous more often." I finally say, gently pushing August off of me, though he doesn't move, only holding me closer to him, lying us both on our sides as his cock goes soft inside me.

"No, I don't like seeing you like that with other men." He replies possessively, holding me close.

"Aw, that's sort of sweet of you." I giggle a little, knowing it'll annoy him.

August only grumbles and pulls me further into his chest, thrusting once in warning.

[unculturedswine-101]

Once upon a time in Hollywood: Part 2- The Playboy Mansion

A/N: I don’t really have an audience yet so idk if there’s a demographic for this series but here’s part 2! Also the chapter was initially longer (including smut) but it was getting TOO LONG so I’m going to post part 2 later, enjoy!

A/N 2: the Matt I’m referring to in this story is Matt Baynton; a British actor so u can just disregard him if u want

“Almost ready Schatz?” “Yup!” I stepped out into our living room striking a pose and beveling my knee. “There’s my girl!” Christoph ran up to me and placed his hands on my waist and spun me around. “Christoph! Christoph!” I giggled as he put me down. I ran away from him as he chased me out of the house finally catching me on the porch kissing me and peppering kisses all over my neck. I got out of his grasp and stole the keys that were in his hand and opened the car for my side as he got in the other “Good things come to people who wait, Christoph” he smiled as he turned the ignition and the radio was already on from where we left it.

🎵93 KHJ 🎵

“This is The Real Don Steele it is currently 7 pm and 60 degrees in Los Angeles”

🎵I got a certain little girl who’s on my mind, no doubt about she looks so fine. She’s best girl that I’ve ever had, no doubt about makes me feel so bad🎵

“ I can’t wait for this party, Sharon’s going to be there, Roman, Steve, Matt I mean- everyone!” “I just hope it doesn’t last too long..” Christoph sighs “I don’t know how long I’ll be able to keep my hands off you..” Christoph places a hand on my knee inching closer and closer up my thigh until I swiftly swat his hand away. “Cmon we’re almost there!” Christoph makes a sharp turn swerving into the Playboy Mansion “Oh look they're here!” I point out Michelle, Steve and Matt. “Welcome to the Playboy Mansion Mr.Waltz” you greet Steve first, “Heyy how are you, baby?!” I jump into Steve’s arms as he swings me around and places me back on the ground. Going into the mansion I reconnect with Sharon as I, Cass and Michelle go dancing further into the backyard with Matt and Christoph trailing behind us as “Son of a lovin’ man” plays over the speakers. We all disperse into the crowd doing the jerk and grooving to the music.

Unbeknownst to us a conversation was happening between Steve and a woman at the party while everyone dances.

“I'm gonna tell you a story.” Steve starts, pulling out a cigarette, “yeah?” The woman inquires. “She was engaged to him. Then she flew to Austria…to make a film with him, and broke off her engagement with him and married him. Then they moved to Los Angeles, and the three of them have been inseparable.” The woman raises her eyebrows, “Really? What's up?” Steve sighs letting out an exhale of smoke “Matt loves y/n that's what's up.” Steve inhales another drag “Mm. And he knows... as sure as God made little green apples... that one of these days, that Austrian prick's gonna fuck things up, and when he does, Matt’s gonna be there.” The woman laughed, “Well, one thing's for sure.” Steve offered the cigarette to her “Yeah? What's that?” She points to you “ Y/n absolutely has a type…Cute, talented, brunettes who have weird accents.” Steve sighed “Yeah…..I never stood a chance.”

“Wooh! I’m exhausted!” Sharon sighed, slowing down from dancing “same here!” I slow down as well as we both look around for our partners. “Look at them, a bunch of teenage boys” Sharon laughed pointing out Christoph, Roman, Matt and Jay all huddled together each with cigarettes in between their fingers. “Cmon, let’s go inside the mansion” Sharon put her arm around me as we went inside.

We entered the living room where there was a conversation pit with Cass, Michelle and others passing around a joint. “Hey guys can we join?” I asked, Cass nodded as we both sat down and settled in among the pillows and blankets. “So how have you and Christoph been enjoying LA?” Michelle asked, taking a drag of the joint “It’s been pretty good, we moved in today and Sharon lives nearby so that’s good”. “Have you broken in the bed?” I slapped michelles arm “Jeez Michelle we just got here today!” I took the joint from her, taking a hit. “Listen, just as long as Roman and I can’t hear you, you do you babe” Sharon smiled as I passed the joint to her. Christoph walked into the mansion with his arm around Roman “y/n, have you heard about Roman’s new movie it’s amazing!” I shrugged, turning around to see Christoph totally fangirling over Roman. Sharon noticed that if Christoph and Roman kept talking they would be there all night so she decided to speak up “Hey Roman shouldn’t we be heading home” Roman glanced at his watch “But it’s only 12 am?-” Sharon quickly shot him a look and Roman instantly understood. “Actually you're right, we should be getting home, “Christoph it was great to see you again..do widzenia!” Christoph smiled and shook his hand “Auf wiedersehen!”. As the two men were saying goodbyes as did you and Sharon “Remember you and Christoph can visit next door anytime!” I gave her a hug “Of course, the same for you and Roman”.

[one-boring-person]

Fic request:

Mutual masturbation with August, so you both only touch yourselves while watching each other 😏

I hope you like this!😁

You Taste Sweet

August Rosenbluth (Water For Elephants) x reader

Warnings: NSFW, swearing

Masterlist

Tagging @jawline-of-steel

My hands shake somewhat as I work on the fastening of my clothing, impatient to get it off me even as August is impatient to get rid of his shirt and trousers. Need and desire race through me, my arousal already pooling in my stomach just at the thought of what's to come, making it harder to focus on getting myself bare. 

The air is cool on my skin as I finally manage to get myself naked, goosebumps appearing on my skin as I slide my underwear down. Righting myself, I look up to find August staring at me, eyes dark with lust, his hand already dragging over to bulge forming in his briefs, soft groans being bitten back as he watches me. A flush of need goes through me at the sight, my hand moving down to my crotch, running a finger through my folds, whining softly at the feeling of my slick on the digit. 

Unable to stand it much more, I climb onto the bed, moving to lean back against the headboard as I watch him hastily yank his underwear off, revealing his thick, large and weeping cock to the air. It springs up, slapping against his stomach, looking painfully hard as he runs a hand over it, squeezing as he nears the tip, a low, guttural groan leaving him. 

Watching him, I bite my lip and lift a hand to massage my breast, teasing my nipple relentlessly as I dip my other hand back down to my aching pussy, dragging a finger over my clit. Whimpering, I stare at the man before me even as he stares at me, joining me on the other end of the bed as he holds his cock in hand, running his thumb up and over the thick vein pulsing on the underside. Keeping my eyes on him, I start to rub figures of eight around my clit, sending waves of pleasure through me, the hand on my chest working harder as I imagine August doing as I'm doing, his thicker, more calloused fingers always feeling delicious against my sensitive skin. 

He seems to be imagining the same, his hand twisting and flicking somewhat now, mimicking the pace I usually set for him, his lip tugging between his teeth as sweat starts to bead on his forehead, hair falling into his face. Precum drips from the tip of his flushed cock, which he uses to lubricate his movements, sliding his thumb over the head from time to time, bucking his hips into his hand. 

My own hips jerk into my touch, too, rocking somewhat uncontrollably as I add a second finger to the mix, rubbing hard over my clit, drawing moans of ecstasy from me now as pleasure floods through me, my hole aching to be filled. Giving in to the urge, I slip a finger down and slide it inside, pressing against the spots within me that I know will have me seeing stars. The knot in my stomach tightens as I do so, my other hand joining the first as I add a second finger inside myself, the fingers of my spare hand rubbing at my clit. 

August's eyes are fixed on me, his hand moving faster and faster as he nears his climax, though he does manage to smirk at me, his voice still cocky and controlled as he speaks.

"Are you close, (Y/n)? Do you like imagining me sliding my fingers inside your tight pussy like that? Because I sure as hell enjoy imagining your hot walls around my cock as I fuck you nice and hard." He grins down at me as I gasp at his lewd words, his skin flushing red now, "That and your little hand around my big cock. You like that, don't you?"

I moan at his words, adding a third finger inside me as the pleasure begins to build, my toes starting to curl. 

"God, August, you're so hot...I need to cum..ah, fuck!" I grit out, bucking my hips into my touch as I move faster, chasing the ecstasy racing through me.

He groans and lowers his other hand to play with his balls, moaning himself now as he throws his head back, face twisted in beautiful lust.

"Me too, (Y/n), me too!" He growls, dragging his thumb over his slit as he makes eye contact with me, hair falling into his eyes, "Let go, (Y/n), cum for me!"

Unable to resist his command, I throw myself into a mind-blowing orgasm, my vision going blank as the pleasure floods every sense, consuming me. Ungodly sounds of euphoria escape me, my body writhing with the sheer pleasure I'm experiencing. 

Groans and moans escape the man above me as he orgasms all over me, spilling hot white ropes of cum over my stomach and chest, his cock twitching in his grip. He falls forwards on one hand, leaning over me as he rides himself through the pleasure, grunting in my ear, eyes squeezed shut. 

As we both finish, we look into each other's faces for a moment, bursting into breathless laughter. 

"That was wonderful." He grins, lifting his hand to inspect it, idly rubbing some of his seed between two fingers. 

"Indeed it was." I respond, lifting my own hands to show him the mess I've created, giggling as he leans forward and licks one of my fingers.

"You've always tasted sweet, Liebling." August smirks, giving me a mischievous look, "And now I'd like to taste more of that."

[unculturedswine-101]

Once Upon a Time...In Hollywood

A/N: I’m combining two of my favourite things: Christoph and Once upon a time in Hollywood, hope you enjoy, and there is more to come!

I woke up on the jet to Christoph with his glasses on reading a book. I arched my back, stretched my arms out and gave out a big yawn, as I looked out the window; it seemed we were going to land soon. “Good morning y/n” Christoph said, not looking away from his book, “mmmm, morning, are we almost there?” Before he could respond the captain came onto the speaker “Good afternoon, this your captain speaking, we are about to land in sunny Los Angeles, please keep your seatbelts fastened as we prepare to land”. Christoph puts away his book into his carry-on as I get out my compact checking my makeup, I’m assuming there’s going to be a lot of press since Christoph and I just got engaged so I want to look my best. We finally skid on the runway as Christoph grabs my hand giving my knuckles a kiss as he smiles at me, reassuring me that everything will be ok. The flight attendant grabs our things as another opens the door to the stairs “Mr. Waltz welcome to Los Angeles”. I take a deep breath as Christoph and I exit the plane, hands still grasping one another as we descend the stairs with no surprise: a surplus of flashing cameras. We both waved at the cameras and each answered interview questions from reporters “How does it feel to be engaged to the most famous director in Hollywood?” I smiled at the question looking down at the beautiful engagement ring Christoph had given me “amazing!” I laughed as did all the reporters. “It’s rumored that y/n is to star in your new movie alongside Sharon Tate, is that correct?” “Yes, it’s true we start filming in October” Christoph replied. He looked over at me seeing how tired I looked so he quickly grabbed my hand and with the help of some security pushed through the crowd to where Christoph’s red convertible was, while some people plunked all our luggage into the back seat. “Ready to go home?” Christoph asked, putting his gold-rimmed sunglasses on, “Absolutely” he laughed and stretched his arm around my seat as I went to rest my head on his shoulder. He turned on the ignition and we sped away, wind flowing through my y/h/c hair as I soaked up the Californian sun on my face. I leaned forward and decided to turn on the radio.

                                     🎵Los Angeles weather!🎵

“Warm tonight around 59, mostly sunny tomorrow with a high near 68!”

Christoph took in a deep breath “That’s what I love about this Los Angeles air, it fills you with warmth and relaxation” you only nodded grabbing a packet of Marlboro cigarettes putting one in your mouth I offered one to Christoph and he nodded as I simply placed one between his lips as I searched for my lighter. I first lifted it to his then to mine, taking a deep plume of smoke and letting it curl in my mouth. “God, I do not miss the chilly Austrian weather” I leaned back in the red leather taking another drag of my cigarette. “Yes, I do have to admit when I arrived, from Austria to LA for the first time..” he laughs to himself, “I never wanted to leave!”. I quickly sat up from my seat taking my cigarette from my mouth “Oh my god is that your- OUR house” Christoph looked over at me admiring how exited I looked admiring the house “you like it?” You tapped your cigarette ashes on the road “I love it”!

[one-boring-person]

Hi ! I have a request for a one-shot with this picture ^ paired with August Rosenbluth !

( I always wondered what would be his reaction if a psychic / medium joined the circus , would he be curious ? Indifferent ? )

Hope this ask isn't too weird lol

I really love this ask! Thank you so much!

The Reversed Fool.

August Rosenbluth (Water For Elephants) x reader

Warnings: none

Masterlist

"May I inquire as to when you joined my circus, and who allowed you to?" A stern voice at the door of my carriage snaps me from my reverie, my hands stilling in their job shuffling the tarot deck.

Looking up, I feel myself go pale as I recognise August, the owner of the circus, standing in the dim light from outside, silhouetted by the lamplight. Blinking, I swallow and stand, placing the deck down as I collect myself.

"I joined some months ago, sir. Your wife allowed me to join." I instantly regret bringing her up, remembering the hellish weeks following her departure from the train with the vet. 

Indeed, the reminder clearly sets him on edge, his jaw clenching as he steps inside.

"And how is it I've not been made aware of your presence?" He continues, looking around at my collection of trinkets and tools. 

"I-i wouldn't know, sir. I've made no secret of my being here." I twist my fingers, swallowing again.

A scowl works its way onto his face as he looks at me, glancing at the deck on the table.

"And? Is your...business drawing in any income?" August lifts an eyebrow, folding his arms.

"Yes, it is. I give all of it to the man who runs the books." I nod, picking up the deck again to put away. As I do so, a card falls from the middle, landing face-down on the floor, my breath catching in my throat; that's a clear message if ever I've seen one.

He just watches as I bend to pick it up, clearly unimpressed with me, still staring as I turn the card over, a frown coming onto my face. Placing the card at the bottom of the deck, I can't help the odd look I send his way as I put them away, taking note of his beautifully highlighted features in this flickering light. Muscle ripples a little along his forearms, showing experience in the ring, made more obvious by the sharp contrasts in light values. 

"As long as you continue to bring money in, I will allow you to stay." The ringleader finally says, meeting my gaze as he goes to leave, sliding the door shut behind him.

I sigh as he leaves, still mulling over the card in my head, confused as to its meaning and message for him. 

It was the fool, reversed...an indicator that he's resisting a new beginning. 

Which new beginning is he resisting? He's done everything in his power to start again, changing a lot of the circus acts up since Marlene and Jacob's departure, changing his own stage personality, repainting and changing up the train, too. Maybe it's something more personal than he's letting on. 

Maybe I don't want to know.

*

A week passes before August's next visit. This time, he takes the time to sit and talk with me, the experience odd to say the least as he simply speaks with me, discussing randomly selected topics of his choice. When he leaves, I'm left wondering what on earth just happened, confused as all hell by the ringleader and his antics. 

His visits become more frequent after that, the man coming and sitting with me many times a week, drinking tea with me and talking about anything we want to. I find it has become a pleasant experience, my opinion of him improving drastically, especially as I hear him laugh properly for the first time, and when I see him smile as if he really means it, my heart warming. I can't help but feel attraction to him, the tarot decks and rune stones soon telling me the one thing I wanted to hide from: I've fallen for him. 

Trying to ignore it, I do my best to stay casual with him, finding it harder than expected with every flirtatious look he begins sending my way, his eyes often taking over my form as we meet, evidently appreciating what he sees. It gets me hot, unused to being on the receiving end of looks like this.

Unfortunately, he must've noticed this, as observant as ever. It took him mere days to ask me to dinner in his own train car after he first told me he liked being around me. Now, sitting in his living space, wearing the best clothes I own, sipping chilled wine from fragile glasses, I'm starting to wonder if the feelings I've got for him are reciprocated. 

Naturally, I'm nervous, admiring his relaxed demeanor as he sits, drinking and watching me, mouth pulled into a friendly laugh.

"Are you enjoying the food, (Y/n)?" He asks me after a while, head tilting to the side curiously.

"Yes, it's wonderful." I nod, smiling politely.

"I'm glad you think so." He replies, clearly pleased, "I'm also glad you joined me tonight. I was afraid you'd say no."

Looking at him, I can see he's being genuine, a vulnerability shining through the facade of confidence he's built up, my heart jumping at the knowledge of this.

"And miss out on your company? I don't think so." I laugh, sipping some wine, not kissing how his eyes flash with happiness at the compliment. 

"Still, I am glad."

We sit in silence for a moment, before he speaks again.

"Have you read your own cards recently?" He asks me curiously, tilting his head.

Surprised, I shake my head.

"No, that I haven't. Why?" 

He chuckles nervously.

"I only wondered if you'd foreseen the question I'm about to ask you in any way." 

"What question?" I frown, confused.

He takes a breath, standing from the table and coming over to me.

"(Y/n), you enthrall me. I've never met someone so clever and wise as you, nor someone as beautiful. You have not been reproachful to me, not that I know of in any case, and you've helped me through some difficult times, even indirectly." He takes my hand, "I wondered if you'd give me a chance, romantically?"

As he says this, the pieces finally click in my head: I know now which new beginning he was resisting, and I also know it wasn't just him resisting.

[headoverhiddles]

My Christoph Waltz Smut Masterlist

Christoph x Readers

The Austrian Suitor 

Ibiza Nights

Emotional Interview (Fluff)

IHOP

Django Unchained: King Schultz x Readers

Candyland

Stargazing

Bedtime Story

Forgive Me?

Right Beside You (Fluff)

Nightmare (Fluff)

Sweet Talking Gunslingers (ft. Val Kilmer's Doc Holliday)

Such A Tease

Assist Me (Part I)

Assist Me (Part II) (Fluff)

The Romance Of A Yellow Rose

Inglourious Basterds: Hans Landa x Readers 

Verführung

Geheimnisse

Meister 

Grotesk Burlesk (Landa x Marilyn Manson)

Downsizing: Dusan Markovic x Readers

Neighborly

Water For Elephants: August Rosenbluth x Readers

Mood Swings