#k.cod ♡

[glossykissies]

könig knows he’s too big and scary to be a gooner. you don’t get the privilege of being creepy and full of hot thick cum when you’re fucking huge like that. but it was an indulgence that he just couldn’t say no to. not when you were working on the base. ૮꒰ྀི ◡ ˶ ◡ ꒱ྀི১ 

he wasn’t really sure what it was you did, which yeah — made him feel a little shittier about the whole thing. but in his defense, he’s seen you patch people up so he thought you were maybe a nurse, but then again he knows you do price’s paperwork, so maybe not. it didn’t matter, he knew you as the girl with those long eyelashes (wispy strip lashes that shaded your eyes extra beautifully from his height when you bat them up at him) and the pretty tits with the lacy bra that sticks out the top of your low neckline.

könig always liked his alone time. didn’t get much of it when he was being sent off to fight, so on the slower days he was doing what he could to find the space and privacy to hunch in a corner with his cargos below his ass, phone on landscape mode, fisting his cock to a disgusting video of sorts. ones with girls that look like you.

that’s why he kind of can’t believe his luck when it came to your little arrangement. he wasn’t sure how it even came about — the two of you had said few words to one another outside of your sessions. polite hellos and small talk which gave no inkling to a passer by on the debauchery that took place in that one dark and dingy hallway several times a week. he figured you’d seen his gaze on you, and liked to think you had a size kink times by one million from the way you gazed back, from the way you didn’t recoil when you’d spot him staring at your ass on flexing his hands at the sight of your tits straining against your top. he wanted to touch you and god did you want to be touched. like he said, lucky. you could have had him written up for that type of behaviour and if he’s being completely honest that also kind of got him off.

it was fairly quiet the first time you’d nodded at him to follow you to the hallway the first thing things commenced. one of those times where words didn’t need to be spoken. you had to step over random discarded dumbbells from the gym and cleaning supplies, the dim light of the the army base most abandoned passage flickered from lack of maintenance which only seemed to add to the grimness of the situation. you didn’t say anything, just pressed your back to the cool cement wall and fluttered those lashes up at him as if to say ‘we’re alone now. do what you want to me.’

for someone so trained to be precise with his movements, könig wanted to be everywhere at once. his hands hovered over you, licking his hips salaciously beneath the mask before settling on your tits, grappling and massaging roughly like the two of you were horny teenagers playing seven minutes in heaven. you wore a fabric bra that day, so he could really knead you, instantly pinning his hips forward to press you harder to the wall and get friction on his cock. he practically sheltered you, so large and casting a shadow over your very being. you were all encompassed.

“shit. dirty girl. dirty fucking princess.” his accent is thick with lust as he tilts his hips to drag his bulge over your mound just to prove himself. you don’t stop staring up at him, breaking your neck — but when he pulls this move your brows furrow and lips turn down a little, quiet pathetic moan mewling from the back of your throat. you wanted more.

könig leaves your tits to stuff a hand down your leggings and cup your cunt. not necessarily doing much to it, just feeling it like he couldn’t believe you were letting him touch you up. you wore these paper thin, white panties that flashed his mind with images of himself ruining them, cumming all over your covered puffy cunt until the fabric was painted onto your skin. he shudders, hard as a rock and pin points your clit, delivering rushed strokes that forced you to pivot your legs wider for him.

the sight that stayed with him was how your eyes never left him once. there was no checking the doorway to the hallway nervously, worried about prying eyes — or staring down frightfully at the baton sized bulge practically levitating out his cargos as he roughly, singlehandedly palmed himself, they were simply staring up at him, needy, willing, dare he say loving. it was as if your gaze said ‘i know what you’ve been doing, and i want you to do it to me.’

that’s what he figured anyway the next time he was tugging his cock in the shower, eyes closed, thinking of you. all he could promise himself was that next time you lead him down that dark hallway path, he was absolutely fucking you.