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fishstyx · 4 years

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“put the maid outfit on.”

featuring. sub!nagito komaeda x fem!reader

wc. 2.2k

genre. smut

tw. nsfw, penetration (pegging), orgasm denial/edging, praise kink, mild (mild!) toxic masculinity

synopsis. peg nagito 2021 + everyone’s favorite e-boy trend.

“You really think I look good in this..?”

Your jaw slackens as Nagito materializes in the doorway, fingers fiddling with the hem of his skirt. His shoulders hunch over and his legs bend at the knee, but if he’s trying to make himself smaller, it does little to obscure your view. The costume fits him so well, corset detailing and silk satin bows lining his midriff, white ruffle trim splayed out against his wrists and thighs. Flouncy frills flare from his shoulders, jet puffed sleeves rounding out his sharper edges and broader sides. A pink flush creeps across his cheeks when you fail to respond, teeth locking his bottom lip in place like he’s trying to keep himself from saying anything more.

“I think you look great in it!”

You clasp your hands together in an attempt to ward off your trance and he cracks a smile in spite of himself, relief washing over his features—but your next words have him standing stick straight. “It makes me feel like I should dress you up more often.”

Suddenly his brows are threaded with vexation, Mary Janes clacking across the floorboards as he makes his way towards you.

“Please don’t joke about that. Even I take some pride in my manhood,” he pouts, somewhat unconvincingly. “But as long as you’re holding to your end of the deal—“

“And whatever deal could you be talking about?” you ask ever so sweetly, lashes batting away all too knowingly. He stiffens at your feigned ignorance, legs knocking together when you tilt your head pointedly.

“...You know what deal.”

Nagito averts his gaze, though unable to escape your own, hands clutching at the lacy material as he sucks in a sharp breath. “The deal we made… where I put this outfit on…” You wait patiently, silent stare urging him to finish the sentence. “...and you pound my unworthy hole into oblivion.”

“Oh? And what exactly am I going to pound you with?”

However fake your play-pretend innocence, the curiosity in your eyes is very much real, blazing with the vehement desire to hear him say it aloud. The remaining shred of his so-called dignity is slashed to pieces, the hopefulness in your voice too compelling to defy.

“My favorite toy. Please, mess me up with it.” Nagito eyes you nervously, expecting rejection or derision or snide, heart fluttering when he gets only an warm smile in return. “The dildo that I can’t live without. I want it—I need it so bad it hurts,” he continues in a near whisper, but it’s good enough for you. You pull him in immediately, your chin nestling itself in the crook of his neck as your lips come to rest at the shell of his ear.

“Such a good boy, using your words so properly.” He shudders against you as you trace the fabric where it lies snug against his waist, mesmerized by the words of encouragement that spill from your lips.

“I’m gonna make you see stars.”

Nagito practically bursts with anticipation as you snake your fingers up his skirt, unmoving from the spot where you pushed him onto the bed. With bated breath he lets you kiss up his inner thighs—lets you because normally he wants to do all the work, wants to be your little joyride fuck toy, wants you squirming under his touch. It’s all he can do just to watch, cock already twitching from how good it feels, how utterly starved he’s been of hands besides his own between his legs.

You push at his thighs, pressing them far apart for easy access, chaste kisses becoming damp squeezes as you traverse up the length. A silent smirk tugs at your lips as he throws his head back, the tent beneath his apron growing taller by the second. You palm it instinctively, rubbing circles through the fabric and inviting blood to his sensitive member.

But it’s more of a distraction than anything else, your other hand uncapping the bottle of lube with skill, lathering itself up with ease. Nagito pays it no mind, instead drinking in how you fondle him with eerie similarity to the most despicable of his favorite fantasies. So when a lone finger begins to circle at his entrance, he reels with an unexpected jolt, back arched like a cat. You waste no time in sinking a digit inside, sinful groans following one after another.

And then you’re pumping him with two fingers, swirling them in tandem and scissoring them apart a knuckle deep, then another. He’s biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, fighting the maddening urge to move on his own, to just take the reins and ram you inside of him. He’s already coursing with the need for something more substantial, and it’s obvious that he’s ready to take additional girth.

“Used to me already?” you ask, more statement than question. Nagito hesitates before nodding, sheepishness written into the slow bob of his head. “You’ve been playing with this lonely hole behind my back, haven’t you?” But he can’t bring himself to confirm or deny it, the way he peers back at you answer enough.

You reach for the harness in turn, untangling the heaps of straps right before him, his dildo of choice following soon after. You snap the towering thing into place with a satisfying click, swaying your hips as you guide the thigh straps to their final resting place. The fit is snug, belt of the strap just about digging into your flesh—but not quite—and you turn your back to add the finishing touches.

You’re dripping with lube when you face him again, glossy slick accentuating every vein, every bulge that graces your makeshift cock. You chuckle at the way his legs are spread already, the way he’s waiting on you with a look that says take me now, hold me down and fuck me silly.

But he’s ahead of himself as usual, and it’s inevitable that he chokes back a whimper when you disappear inside of him. He gives the prospect of pain no heed, silently pleading for you to move, and you click your tongue in distaste.

“Breathe,” you command, waiting for him to loosen. Green eyes shift expectantly from the strap-on to your own, an exasperated whine starting to form at his lips, but he knows his place and does as you say.

Nagito complies with the rise and fall of his chest, evidenced by the soft sway of a centerpiece bow. His muscles begin to relax even as you’re splitting him in two, and you angle your hips up in preparation. The tip of your silicone cock has barely brushed against his sensitive gland, yet it already has him quivering, hungry for more.

It’s in the middle of a deep breath when you finally deem him ready, doubling back before bucking into that same spot that has his jaw dropping and his eyes squeezing shut. A shaky exhale stutters from his wide-open mouth and he melts into a panting mess as you find your pace.

“Good boy. Such a good boy, making all that noise for me,” you repeat, chant-like words a melody to his ears.

“Y-you really think so?” he struggles to get out, little mewls escaping him even as he speaks. “Even when I’m… being so… selfish?”

“Shh, don’t say things like that. I feel it too, baby boy,” you’re quick to say—and you’re not lying, far from it in fact. The hilt of the dildo rocks against your clit each time your hips meet, the pulsating pressure tempting you to plunge even deeper. And with the face that he’s making, all reddened cheeks and parted lips, how could you not?

You’re snapping into him now, reveling in the challenge posed by the sheer length of his choice toy. It’s hard work with the way he clamps around you, but the tingle it shoots up your spine and the squelch it sends to your ears are well worth the effort. The marvelous stretch draws a throaty “f-fuuuuck” out of him, the god-sent sensation making him throb all the more.

But with every plunge you take, you’re met with the bounce of his pretty pink cockhead, a rebounding reminder of what you’ve left unattended. His neglected shaft looms in stark contrast to his black and white garb, breath hitching when you finally decide to wrap around it. Your movements are painfully slow to begin with, building up the pressure before picking up in speed, and he keens his dissatisfaction until you’re jerking him off to the same brutal rhythm of your rolling hips.

“I think I’m gonna cum,” he cries, locks of hair cascading past his pleated headband as you press into a spot so sweet he thinks he just might come undone; but you have other plans in mind. Your movements slow before coming to a lurching halt, the absence of stimulation quick to dampen the mood.

“Good boys cum when they’re told to,” you say, but the explanation does little to appease him. A look of disappointment leaps to his face, his lips pursed in dismay—or perhaps it’s betrayal.

He looks so disheveled like this, staring at your open palm like maybe his wordless begging can coax you back into stroking him. Hazy eyes glaze over, tufts of hair spilling every which way as he sits himself up, but you aren’t done with him yet.

It’s simple to redirect his movement, his weak limbs no match for your own as you turn him over so he’s kneeling on the bed. He tries to look back but you push him down by the neck, hiking his skirt up as you position yourself behind him. His ass is raised in the air without so much as being told, and you align with his fluttering hole before breaking him in again.

You were right to make him wait; he’s shaking in excitement now, tense with amplified arousal as his knees buckle underneath you. Bottoming out is so much easier like this, your pistons devoured whole and spat back out with each and every thrust. You draw back slowly only to bury yourself once more, repeating the motion until his moaning runs incoherent, completely wracked with shivering pleasure. You can’t tell if he’s humping the mattress, grinding against you, or both, but he’s reaching his climax again and the both of you know it.

“Can I finish now? Pretty please?” Nagito asks, so strained and so breathily that you nearly miss it. “Please, it hurts so good, please please please, I’m head over heels for your cock!”

The thought of stopping again is too cruel for you to give even a moment’s consideration, so you pin his wrist against his back and collect a fistful of hair in your hand before leaning in to award him with the magic words:

“Go ahead, then. Cum for me.”

You slam into him as he rides through the peak of his bliss, squirming in wretched ecstasy as he collapses under his own weight. You can only imagine what kind of expression he’s making with his head face-first in the bedsheets, the kinds of shapes his mouth is forming when you pull his hair back like this. Violent spasms render Nagito otherwise immobile, unable to move of his own accord. He’s going completely slack, quivers shorting until you wonder if he passed out from the aftershock.

It comes as a surprise when you notice him barely holding on, eyelids threatening to shut close when you pull him into your arms. He looks like a cheap whore in that kitschy uniform of his, thick white cum smeared all over the black fabric. Beads of drool streak his chin but he’s too fucked-out to notice, let alone care.

“You did so well for me,” you whisper as Nagito nuzzles into your chest, drowsy and spent. I don’t deserve this at all, he thinks, a dull echo reverberating in the back of his mind.

“I’m so proud of you,” you coo as you stroke his cheek with your thumb. Proud of what? My greediness? My utter uselessness?

But he’s too exhausted to fight your praises, self-doubt dwindling away to nothing as you hum your approval. He snuggles against your palm without even realizing it, subconscious of his mind chasing after contact with your bare skin. In his docile state, you can’t help but to hold him close, intimate proximity sating the needs of which he’s too adamant to admit aloud.

But all good things must come to an end, and eventually, your adrenaline dies down, too. You feel as though you’re a husk of yourself, curling up beside him and letting the fatigue tide you over. As much as you’d love to watch your symbol of hope fall asleep, your eyelids feel so, so heavy now, and you expend the last of your energy on little kitten kisses that trail up his temple and dot down his nose. Your collective consciousness fades away until all that’s left is the syncing of your breath, a singular flow of air where you lay wrapped around one another.

He’ll never admit just how good it felt to be pampered this way, but you’ll never regret taking care of him.

#nagito x reader #nagito smut #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa oneshot #nagito imagines #danganronpa smut #tw. penetration.#🍣.food #fishstyx.dr

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hecohansen31 · 5 years

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The Tomboy & The Model:

Model! Michael Langdon+Tomboyish! Reader

(A/N): Hello lovelies!

I am back with a new Michael’s idea I hope you’ll like!

I honestly firstly discussed this idea with @sojournmichael so big shoutout to her, and to my group of friends her for making me actually publish and write this fic, since I ended up having a bit or... PROBLEMS with it...

I am actually very out of the fashion industry so, exactly as with the cam-world, if you see some things which aren’t quite right, please let me know and I’ll do my best to actually correct them.

Also I tried to keep the reader being a tomboy a bit behind, so that anybody can try to see themselves in her, without having to stop anybody from feeling a bit like the Reader, so I hope you won’t hate me too much for that-

With this being said... I really hope you’ll like it, and please if you do end up enjoying, leave an heart, reblog he fic (if possible writing something... I am always the most anxious about hearing what you thought of my writing) or shot me an ask or a DM.

If you didn’t like it, please let me know, kindly, what didn’t work so that I could make it work better in the future!

Much love!

Hope you’ll enjoy this!

SUMMARY: You and shy model Michael could be the most different people in the world, but somehow you end up working quite well together.

WORDS: 9 K

WARNINGS: Sub! Michael, Dom! Reader (also brief mention of Dom! Michael and Sub! Reader), Spanking, Oral Sex (Male and Female Receiving), Orgasm Denial, A Bit Of Dirty Talk, Use of the F-word, and Drunken Assault.

She had been always the type to prefer more masculine things: it wasn’t anything strange for her to run with the boys and play with them and slowly she had started taking over some of their mannerism.

It had been always her true nature to be much more masculine “than women were supposed to be”, according to her mother.

Her mother had been extremely disappointed by the fact that she hadn’t wanted to own a more feminine body and although she had made some concessions towards her style, she mostly went by her own way, which meant jeans, mostly large and graphic shirts for the summer and sweaters for the winter.

She enjoyed the gym and wasn’t afraid to assume a more manly role, such as paying for the bill or being the one who did the first move, which got her in so much trouble and rejections that she sometimes thought about giving up that nature just to get a bit of affection.

It hurt her to think about a future alone, although she had friends who loved and a family who supported her, but when everybody was so crazy about love, she couldn’t help but feel annoyed by her lack of.

She was a big romantic, underneath the harsh armor she wore.

And she was also a complainer, according to her roommate Mallory, who had set her up with a boy that Wednesday, insisting it would have been a fun idea.

“You basically set me up with a stranger” she had mumbled, meanwhile her roommate, a professional make-up artist, put eyeshadow on her lids after she had squeezed her in a nice outfit, still jeans but it was paired with a silky black blouse, giving her a vampire aesthetic she dug, enhanced by Mallory expert work with brushes and beauty blenders “I have watched too many “Law and Order SVU” episodes to believe that this will end well”.

“Shut up, and pucker up your lips” had replied Mallory, pushing out a shiny lip-gloss, getting an eyes roll from her, a clear way of asking her if it was truly necessary “… Michael is a nice guy, I wouldn’t set you up with psycho”.

She only had one clue, since according to Mallory “spoiling the identity of his date would ruin the magic of it”, alongside mumbling something about her being a bit too much of a cyber-stalker…

And that clue was that her date’s name was Michael, biblical and decidedly normal, too little for her to check him out on Instagram (although she had tried).

Mallory had gently rolled the lipstick onto her lips, till she was satisfied.

She already had felt uncomfortable due to the sticky sensation between her lips, deciding to clean it as soon as she was alone in the little diner they were supposed to meet for an appetizer.

Mallory had then pushed a mirror in her face, revealing a flushed face, and although the entire ensemble hadn’t made her feel like a clown, it was a bit too much for her.

Still it had looked definitely badass, enough that she knew why her roommate was so requested: she was lovely, without losing anything of herself.

“… also you look amazing” had mumbled shyly Mal, meanwhile she adjusted her hair, gently pushing out of her face “… he will have a dumbstruck expression when he’ll see you”.

She had doubted it, but she had felt confident and definitely not in need of the validation of a man.

And she definitely hadn’t needed her date being late, already annoyed by the entire ordeal, with a perfect plan to occupy better that night: “B99”, the last piece of cheesecake in the fridge and best of all… her bed, warm and comfortable.

She had been thinking this when suddenly she had felt a deep breath in front of her and she had raised her eyes as soon as the spot in front of her had been shadowed and there, in front of her, was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

An elegant dust of red had been smeared on his lids, meanwhile kohl lined his eyes matching the outfit he had worn an elegant leather jacket on a red graphic shirt with “Gucci” written all over it, tucked in a pair of skinny ripped jeans, giving him a grunge look she fell in love with, meanwhile his face had an angelic trait, a clear contrast with his devilish outfit.

He had been blushing, clearly out of breath, his cheeks blossoming of a pink shade, meanwhile his eyes had tried to meet hers, looking at her as if she was searching something, which had gotten her to assume a confident stance or at least try to.

She had reasoned he couldn’t be a waiter, so he must have just come in, another client like her.

-I am Michael- he had blurted out and it had taken her a few minutes to link it with her date, meanwhile the boy had looked at her expectantly, without knowing what to do and asking for instructions -… Mallory’s friend-.

-Oh…- he was her date.

Her date was very beautiful: an androgynous god, with curly hair she wanted to caress.

-May… I … sit? – he had asked, shyly, ducking his head, meanwhile she had simply nodded trying to square up in her seat, and form a coherent dialogue.

-Of course- what a brilliant answer -… I am (Y/N), Mallory’s other friend- she had mumbled, cursing at the absurdity of her words, since he probably already knew, and she was being a fool, because his beauty had taken away any ability of hers to talk.

-I figured out- his laugh had been nice and warm, and he had offered her an hand after he had settled down; she was honestly grateful he hadn’t tried to come closer and kiss her, even just on the cheek, she was grateful he had half a knowledge of personal space -… I am also sorry for being late, I swear I don’t do it often… I had a photoshoot which took much more than I thought…-.

A photoshoot?

Was he a model?

He certainly had the look for it, being an ethereal creature with a big range, being able to assume a such a strong range, ruling both genders and all the ones between those.

-… you are a model? – she hadn’t meant to sound skeptical or anything, but she also hadn’t wanted to assume and just sound dumb…

-Yeah- his cheeks had become again flushed and she couldn’t help but want to pinch them gently but she had tightened the grip of her hands on her knees -… I know it’s strange, I still can’t believe it happened… one day you are in your grandma’s house and the following… you are shooting a photoshoot for Gucci-.

Hadn’t she been attracted before, she was now.

He clearly had seemed taken by the entire argument and she couldn’t help but love the shining passion in his eyes, his interest peaking when he mentioned the “Gucci” house, before hiding his face.

-… I am sorry I swear I am not trying to seem arrogant…- he had bitten his bottom lip, ashamed.

-Oh, don’t worry! – she had reached out her hand, pushing it over his shoulder, more to comfort him than actually to try anything, which had gotten her a grateful smile from him -…I actually know nothing about this world, but I also am very curious, so please talk all you want-.

He had become so red that she was sure he would have probably busted a coronary or something, but after a deep breath he had simply smiled and went back to talking about his life as a model and he also explained how he had met Mallory, working on a set for one of his photoshoot, since it wasn’t unusual for him to wear make-up (she had complimented the red eyelids, immediately getting a gentle smile).

“She is one of the best I have ever had: we need more sunshine-made people, on set!” he had giggled, meanwhile she had agreed that Mallory was everything good made as a person “… she said that she had a very cute roommate, meanwhile we were talking and she … said… “.

“I am sad that you in the end got a very annoying roommate” she had replied, meanwhile giggling a bit, just to be greeted with a slow gulp from the other boy who had then mumbled:

“I think that I actually got very lucky, instead, you are lovely” this had made her blush and the sudden silence had been interrupted by the waiter who asked their orders, letting them discuss on what they had chosen, Michael complimenting her drink choice, meanwhile she asked him if what had ordered wouldn’t make him gain weight, getting a wicked smile from Michael, who after a few minutes had started getting more at ease, even asking question on his own.

In the end, the night was nice and she actually had felt very enchanted by the shy model, who had suggested on her not getting an uber but getting a lift from him, so that he could apologize for his lateness; he had also tried to pay for the entire appetizer, getting instead a strict refusal.

“If you want a second date, you better understand that I am a pretty independent lady”.

She might have been wrong, but his eyes had shone interested at her own feistiness.

She had been bewildered at the elegant and sleek sportive car, immediately looking at it for a few good minutes, meanwhile Michael had explained he had paid it with the first money he had had, wanting something that could make him run away from everywhere.

“.. it’s presumptuous”.

“I think she is the prettiest” she had giggled, entering it with extreme attention, not wanting to damage the pretty thing in the slightest “… you know the night is definitely going amazingly”.

“I thought that when I saw you in the table” again a simple mumble getting her to smile and her cheeks were rushed with blood “… I mean… I was honestly expecting some creepy girl”.

“… same” she had replied, meanwhile she had laughed shyly, the car revving itself up underneath her and she almost had had to restrain a scream of excitement meanwhile they rushed to her home, a soft choice of classical music, mixed with jazz coming from the radio.

“You can change it” Michael had mumbled, eyes on the road, but she could sense the self-conscious note in his voice “… all my friends say that I have the musical tastes of an old man”.

“I don’t mind it” she had sung along, humming softly at the tone, soon Michael was with her and when a few more popular songs came on the radio they belted out, the complicity that had started that night clearly shining and although it was just an appetizer, she was extremely taken by Michael.

She just hoped he felt the same, although they had joked, Michael’s shyness made it difficult for her to understand him and although she had wanted to try to be more proposing, she also hadn’t wanted to disturb the quiet of the poor boy, whereas he had confessed how awful some people made him feel.

“It is all so crazy: people somtimes say that they admire me, and then get into fights “for me”, they insult others because of that... and I mean... it is stupid and terrible to have this kind of power”

So, she had opted for a more posed approach, waiting for him to act, but they had arrived all too soon in front of her house, and she had to invent something to conclude the night happily.

-I had fun, tonight- he had mumbled, looking in front of him, his tell-tale blush reappearing -… I mean… I usually do not got out to these kind of things… it’s been so so long since I have had a date, so… I can understand if this sucked-.

She had been honestly surprised for his love failures: such a pretty face with that enchanting manners shouldn’t be left all alone.

-… it didn’t suck- she had leaned in, again caressing softly his shoulder, again to comfort him and suddenly he came extremely closer to her, enough for a kiss.

But she, instead, had panicked: it was the first time it happened with a boy, she usually was so confident and…

… and she had grabbed his cheeks, indeed the softest she had ever felt.

But she was also extremely aware of how silly the entire thing must have seemed.

Perfect.

She had met a nice guy… and she blew her chances.

Michael just looked at her in the face, definitely confused but then a shy smile had taken over and he had mumbled something about having had indeed fun and then had gone to open the door, as a gentleman, wishing her goodnight.

“Goodnight” she had mumbled back, fidgeting with the cars, then adding “… it was a very nice night”.

“Definitely funny” he had smirked, and waited for her to be inside of her house (she knew he had, because when she had turned around she had found him propped onto the side of the car, waiting for her, clearly wanting to seem disinterested, but he was blushing, a lot…) before running away with his sportive car.

She had been sure it was the last time she would have ever seen him.

He hadn’t tried anything and certainly he hadn’t kissed “goodnight”, which wasn’t a bad thing.

She didn’t mind boys who took their time and didn’t shove their tongues down her throat, but she had halfway hoped that with a cutie like Michael, the spark would fly and although she had known that his shyness would be a bit in the way…

… still she had no sign of his interest, except the “I had fun, tonight”.

Had he “had fun” with her just as a friend? Or as a date?

Both?

Neither?

That’s what she had asked herself the entire day: she had never been this level of head over heels for anyone, but shy, model Michael who was way out of her league…

She thought that fashion was a beautiful industry but not hers: fashionable dresses looked good, on everyone except her.

And the bad thoughts keep on annoying her, mostly because usually she handled well rejection: she moved on quickly, thinking that it was simply not the guy for her.

But this time, it made her feel bad, about herself and her feelings.

Mallory had noticed her struggle that night, when she had come back and immediately had asked info on her date, just to receive her extremely gloomy roommate, who thought that Michael had disliked her in everything:

“We had a nice night… I mean… I did, but I am not sure about Michael… he was…- “she had bitten her tongue, meanwhile she had thrown her head back “… he seemed a bit off… and definitely not interes…”.

But before she could have finished her thought, Mallory had sent her a look which said “please don’t speak bullshit with me”.

-… I literally had Michael fanboying all over me, about how wonderful it was to have a date with you- she had mumbled, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel her heart burst of pure satisfaction.

-Tell me more- she had mumbled, even adding the entire sing-song voice as if she was in “Grease” and Mallory had looked conflicted.

-… I am not sure I am allowed to say more… Michael is my friend…- she had mumbled, just to get (Y/N)’ puppy eyes and after an exasperated sigh -… he says that you were very nice to talk to, he is an introvert so he needs people who don’t feel life-sucking and he said that you were also very respectful, and that he tried to lean in for a kiss but you went to pitch his cheeks, so… he was sure you were the one who didn’t like him…-.

Oh shit…

Shitshitshitshit…

That poor self-conscious boy.

She must have scared him.

Mallory had been a step from spilling more tea, when her phone had buzzled and she had gone to retrieve it from its charging point just to realize it was an unknown number and she was halfway from not answering, sure that it was a call center, but then Mallory had just shouted quickly:

“Answer it! It might be Michael! I gave him your number” which had made her be extremely nervous, sending her an incredulous look: Mallory had taken this matchmaker role too far.

-Hello? – her voice wavering, not giving out too much, since she had been honestly scared of what might happen next… and worst of all that it might have indeed up to be a call-center.

-(Y/N)? – Michael’s voice was low and sweet, clearly shyness again shining in it, but she had known it all too well, although it was a bit distorted -… I am very sorry to bother you-.

-Oh, don’t worry, Michael… you are not disturbing me, in the slightest- she had adopted the immediate charm of her best flirting -… I am actually glad that you called me-.

-… oh…- she had then known that Michael was straight up blushing behind the phone -… well, I am glad that you answered me, and I hope you won’t think this is creepy, I asked your number to Mal-.

The entire phrase had been a continued babble, too fast that she had found it a bit difficult to follow him but it was extremely endearing.

-I don’t mind it, in the slightest- she had smiled, confidently -… I am actually happy she did, so that we can talk a bit more, I enjoyed our conversation, yesterday-

Michael had choked on the other line and after a few minutes of silence, she had felt him try to breath out a deep breath, before blurting out:

-…what about talking more, on a second date? -.

The second date had been lovely and they had been able to know each other in a more intimate way: she had talked about her body-issues, and how she had slowly moved upon the more tomboyish side, baring a part of her soul she hadn’t expected him to get and to even compliment.

“I am an androgynous model” he had mumbled, meanwhile they discussed over it at dinner, this time in an elegant restaurant he had suggested “… so I know that the entire thing about gender roles is stupid”.

He had also told her about his life, before modelling, stretching out on how comfortable he felt with her…

“… these are extremely delicate things…” he had mumbled, as a way of requiring her discretion “… my parents had trouble because of me, I was a very unwanted pregnancy and they both… died, when I was a child, so I was passed onto my grandmother: she wasn’t an amazing person, but it was due to her that I first got into modelling”.

She had shot the photo, which had made him famous, more out of pride, a prize to show to her friends, the one she met at the hair-dresser and the one with whom he she played bridge: she had posted it even on Facebook, with Michael’s help and the following day… a model agency was at his door.

“It was all too sudden” he had commented, meanwhile he had munched onto their appetizer, clearly not as refined in his aspect as with his manners “… but it was worth it; I am away from that horrible place and I have a bright future, for me”.

“That seems honestly lovely, I am glad that you had this all” and she still hadn’t understood why he would even think about going out with her, whereas everything around him was so bright, so charming and fascinating.

And she was just a simple piece.

Not the best one, not the worst one.

He had then proceeded with modelling funny stories, meanwhile she narrated her own ones, laughter had been leaving her mouth constantly the same from his, although blush never left his cheek, but his confidence had been slowly appearing and this time when he had leant in, after he had accompanied her back, she had kissed him.

Softly and shyly, clearly not wanting to hurt him or scare him away, but he had surprised her being bold enough to ask for a second kiss, and a third one and then she had felt his phone vibrating in his jacket (they had been so close during the kiss) and he had ignored it, a first time, just to lean in for his fourth kiss, his nose bruising against hers.

But at the second vibration, he had had to answer, with a grimace and she hid a little silly smile.

“Give me just a few minutes, please” he had asked, pleading with puppy eyes, and she let him, moving towards her house, blowing him a silly kiss.

They hadn’t met for another two weeks, since Michael’s phone call had been from his agent, John Henry Moore, an ex-model, who had programmed for him a little trip in Asia for a special photoshoot, and then, a little stay there for a modelling workshop with models from all over the world.

“You literally have no idea how boring it is in there” he always told her, when she was allowed to call her, time-zones always coming in the way “They are all so self-absorbed”.

It was a big joke, because he then told her all about how he had managed to make friends with each of the other models, although some were indeed presumptuous, “something was definitely stuck up there” he laughed, meanwhile she told him, about her “non-model routine”.

“I woke up, went to my job, passed a bit at the gym, did a bit of grocery shopping…” and he listened to her as if she was narrating him some epic adventure, whereas her life was completely the most annoying “… you seriously never get annoyed by my silly stories?”.

“Maybe I like the sound of your voice, a bit too much” he joked, and it was in that time that his voice and words made her center turn into molten liquid.

But Michael was not only shy, but sexual suggestions or innuendos were ineffective on him.

She could have probably laid naked in front of him and he would have been like “how was your day, lovely? Have you forgotten your clothes?”.

And part of her liked him all the same, and another part… wanted to push him down her bed, half of the time they spent together, because of that innocence.

A month had been enough to declare them “boyfriend and girlfriend”, which had gotten a delighted squeal from Mallory, one of the few who knew about their relationship, since they preferred keeping it private for another bit of time.

And for her it was enough: her sweet and handsome boyfriend who had a real talent for seeing beauty in each thing, even a tomboy like her.

A week, after two months together, he had suggested she joined him as his plus one at a party for the release of a collection of one of his stylist friends:

“I thought it would have been a fun idea for a different night out” he had mumbled, meanwhile he had blushed, probably because she had sat down on his lap, meanwhile they were in his luxurious loft, which he shared with other models, but they went out for the night so it was just the two of them “…if you don’t feel comfortable or anything…”.

“I think that I would enjoy it very much, Michael” she had giggled, staring to lay joking kisses all over his face “… I am just a bit confused on what to wear, I don’t know if I have anything proper for it”.

“What about the pantsuit you wore, when we went out, the last time” she couldn’t help but remember Michael’s face at the elegant pantsuit she had worn at their date in an expensive restaurant, an impulse buy, which had proven worth of its price (which was a lot) after she had seen Michael’s surprised face.

Her shy boyfriend had looked at her as if she was a freaking night goddess.

“I don’t think that it would follow the theme of the night” she had reminded him, hugging him closer, and leaving a few kisses in his exposed collarbone, meanwhile her nose followed the scent of the cologne he used, something which drove her crazy “Isn’t it “rock and fashion” themed?”.

“I am pretty sure that nobody would mind, after they see you in that outfit” he had blushed, hiding softly his face in her hair, meanwhile she had giggled at his silliness, diving in for a kiss on the crown of his hair.

“You are too cute, Michael” she had complimented him, meanwhile he had taken a step back to look at her in the eyes.

“… and you are a goddess, (Y/N)”.

This time it was her who had hidden in his neck, meanwhile he had smirked happily, as if his goal in life was to breakdown her tough exterior.

In the end she had managed to find something which was “fashionably rock and roll”, putting herself in a tight mini-skirt of jeans with fishnets and a leather jacket, which basically showed the least effort into it, not that she actually cared of matching the theme or seeming like the queen of the night, but she didn’t want to shame Michael, who clearly belonged into the world.

She had also allowed Mallory to paint her face, choosing a tough smokey eye with a crazy eyeliner and a dark lipstick, and she thanked God that it was matte, because she didn’t know how to applique it again without making a mess.

It was a bit excessive and Mallory had smudged it to match the grunge aesthetic of her outfit.

She had sent Michael a picture, after the make-up was realized getting back a ton of emojis (mostly fire and hearts), since when words fail, emojis worked perfectly for the model, so she felt a bit confident of her ensemble, although she felt like she was going to a masquerade party instead of a stylist lavish party.

And she couldn’t help but feel even worse, when she saw Michael’s full outfit: he had worn a pant version of what she had, with ripped jeans, showing fishnets under it, a strange cut shit, clearly made so it would seem ripped, but what was even more attractive was the corset over the shirt, which was extremely revolutionary but also it low key gave her a shit ton of ideas…

His make-up was spectacular, red highlighted the tiny speckles of green in his azure eyes, meanwhile the expert contouring highlighted the strong bone structure of his face, his cheekbones basically standing out on their own, with an elegant trace of blush, mixed with expert contouring.

Dark lips were smeared like hers and she low key sent her thanks to God, knowing that if they did make-out they wouldn’t have ruined the effect of the lipstick.

It was definitely the work of an expert, but she guessed that he had done it himself, since he had admitted, expecting her to hate him, that he liked the creative expression of make-up, the way it could change a face and highlight gracefully or destroy flaws, empowering a human.

“It’s a body-art, I honestly love it with all my heart, although it isn’t masculine or…”.

“If you think that I care about anything like that, you probably got me wrong” she had replied, caressing his curly hair “… you could dress up as a clown, and I would still want to kiss you”.

But that time, Michael had honestly outdone himself and she couldn’t help but admire him, beneath the lights of the entrance of the rented place they had chosen for the party.

“Do I have something on my face” he had mumbled, meanwhile she just awed at his face and as he had gone to grab her hand.

“Yeah… it’s a thing called beauty” she had replied, getting a quick laugh from the boy, who had just smirked, leaning in for a kiss.

“I really dig this Billy Hargroove’s girlfriend dress, babe” he had complimented her, with the sarcastic side she had discovered he did own “… but seriously, I think that I will have to keep you by my side for the entire event, or some model or stylist might steal you away from me”.

She had just blushed, mumbling about being only his, before they had strutted in, her less confidently of Michael, who, if he was even slightly nervous didn’t show it, at ease amongst elegant people in the chicest clothes she had ever seen, the kind you saved on your Pinterest boards.

She had met a lot of people, quickly forgetting a ton of names, but everyone seemed nice enough and they had kept offering her champagne, complimenting her for landing a beauty such as Michael, although she honestly felt like it wasn’t beauty the only thing that brought Michael out and made him special, but she had tried not to fight with Michael’s “friends”.

The stylist Ryan had been actually very nice, and she had been thankful for Michael’s fashion history lessons, so that she could navigate comfortably the conversation, but also Ryan, unlike the others, was actually also interested in her and asked a bit about her.

At a certain time, Michael had left her to give a cheer, something for which he had needed a few kisses of reassurance for, but he had done just fine as she had observed him raising her glass with complicity in her eyes, when he had finished his discourse.

And apparently her smile had done something for him.

He immediately had cornered her in a shadowy place, the boldest move she had firstly seen him do, not that the others had bothered, since they had been all busy taking in the next talker on the stage.

“We should get out, now that I have done my thing” he had suggested, clearly he had also reached its maximum of social energy.

“… what do you suggest, my knight in a shining armor?” she had asked, her hand in his, meanwhile they had moved out of the elegant house, inventing excuses as they met the people that they had talked with at the start of the night.

“There is a little diner not too away from here, it’s cute and it has a wonderful 50s aesthetic that I know you would dig” he had said, and you couldn’t help but feel moved by his sudden confidence: was it the confident outfit or the expressive make-up who brought this side of him out?

She hadn’t been complaining and she had let herself be led, in the diner, which was supposed to be only a few block away, so they hadn’t taken Michael’s car, and this had given them a good excuse to make out clumsily, dizzy on the champagne in the first alley they fhad ound, feeling like horny teenagers, but she hadn’t minded it so much when Michael had kissed her neck like rose petals, his curly hair tickling her face, meanwhile she giggled a bit too loudly.

Right when hands had slipped under the clothes, she had heard coughs and two guys, a bit drunk by the way they held onto each other, and she immediately straightened up, exactly like Michael, who blushed lightly.

She and Michael had moved to get away from the embarrassing situation but the two drunkards had started laughing and used the q-world.

Michael had seemed greatly unaffected, but he had just tried to pass of, but she couldn’t ignore it and had shot those two an hateful glare, but this was ineffective, since the two men just whistled at her but worst of all they said:

“What is a pretty girl like you doing with such a faggot?”.

But it didn’t stop there.

“Maybe she is the one with the dick, you know there are these disgusting people…”.

Michael couldn’t stop her, although he had tried to grab her arm, to stop her and get her to run away as fast as possible from those two, he had deemed dangerous.

“You just insulted my boyfriend, pricks” she had never been one to speak up about anything, but she had always had her own strong opinion, and this constant feeling of having to defend those she loved, like Michael “… I suggest you to say sorry”.

She had tried to keep her tone calm, but it didn’t work so well, since her fists had been shaking on her side, and Michael had tried to call her, saying it was no big deal.

But she had known it was a big deal: it was why Michael cowered in fear when he had to admit his passion for make-up, the fact that he was a model and he struggled to see that she loved him for who he was.

“What if we don’t want to, little freak?”.

Well, she had always known one way to make men listen.

And she had kneeled the nearest bastard straight in the groin, and as one went out, the other went down with him.

“Leave us alone, assholes” and she had turned around, cleaning her hand over her fishnets, meanwhile Michael had had this heated glance on his face, as if she had just stripped naked in front of him.

“I think that the diner might not be the best place after this” his pupils had been full-blown, he clearly had seen something he liked and she had dared just a light glance to his skin-tight jeans, just to discover, there was indeed a bulge in them.

“Mallory is over at her girlfriend’s house” she had suggested and soon they were again in Michael’s car, his hand gently skimming over her thighs.

Sexuality was something that she hadn’t very much explored with Michael, both due to his shyness and both to the fact that they were both taking it slow, but to say she wasn’t suddenly aroused was a lie.

She felt powerful for the effect she had had on Michael when she had fought those two pricks.

The rush onto the stairs almost made her trip onto herself and Michael, a few good laughs coming from their mouths, quickly shushed by their kisses and as soon as they were behind closed doors…

… she finally got her hands on the corset which had been teasing her all night, the idea of it staying during sex made her smirk, meanwhile Michael helped her out of the loose blouse she wore, immediately eyeing her simple bralette: she hadn’t meant to dress sexy, although it was almost part of the aesthetic so…but at least her panties and bra matched.

Michael looked at her, reverently and shyly, as if he was waiting for her to decide what to do, next… as if he was completely in her hands, a sensation which got to her head and to her thighs.

“That corset…” she mumbled, through kisses, Michael did know what he was doing, “… it made me feel things for the entire night”.

“… and that stunt, with those guys…” his eyes were honestly so dark that she almost thought he had contacts on, and he was so hard against her thigh “… I honestly was so scared, but you were so brave, you always are”.

She blushed, the mood dissipating a bit of sexiness in exchange for a softness, shining in her eyes as she guided him gently towards their sofa, straddling his lap.

“I am not, I was scared shitless, and it was definitely the champagne…” she joked, caressing gently his hair, pulling them back, away from his sweaty forehead, before laying a soft kiss on it “… you are the cool one, looking fearless on the catwalk, I would just fall on my face and make fun of myself”.

“You wouldn’t” he still laughed at the image “… but even if you did, you would just get up, as fierce as when you kicked that man in the crotch. Also remind me never to make you angry”.

“Right now I am awfully horny so…” she mumbled, meanwhile grinding against his thigh particularly roughly “… you better do something about it”.

“Not on the couch” he giggled, gently raising her “Mallory wouldn’t be happy”.

She continued with the kissing, the mood settling on a more romantic night, with him releasing her on the bed softly, not missing her little smiles.

And that was when the entire mood of the night shifted.

“You looked like a goddess, with those two assholes” Michael’s voice was breathy and before she knew it he was rutting into her, the hotness of the entire situation letting a silken breath be let out from her lips “… you were definitely the hottest woman I have ever seen”.

She didn’t know where it came from, but she couldn’t help but love that submissive tone in Michael’s hazy eyes, pleading her to do something, anything, and she did it, reversing their position and throwing herself on top of him, clearly in power right now.

This was power: the reverent look in Michael’s eyes, as if she was just sitting on his hipbone as if she was on a throne, her throne.

She tentatively grinded against him, slowly almost a caress against his clothed cock, meanwhile his face scrunched, eyes rolling back and she lowered herself to lick his neck, from his collarbones to the soft skin under his ear.

Moans erupted from Michael’s mouth and she giggled, at the tone, immediately going back to her previous position, smiling wickedly at the effect she had on him, before leaning down to kiss his lips, and whisper:

“Is this ok?” for her to take control on him for that night, drunk on the sheer power of relented dominance, but before she did more she wanted to check with him.

Sex and sexual preferences hadn’t been that discussed between them, so she wasn’t sure if this was something that Michael might even slightly be into, and she didn’t want him to regret this or to be even slightly uncomfortable with her.

“I thought that what I had between my legs was enough to say that I am enjoying this” giggled Michael, with more words she had heard him utter since the two drunkards had interrupted their make-up session “… but yeah it is ok… I actually prefer being… submissive in bed”.

She knew she wasn’t his first partner, Michael had had a previous relationship with a fellow male model (he had told her this when things had started being actually getting deeper between them, mostly because he was scared that she might be “prejudiced” towards him… strangely she wasn’t in the slightest) but she wouldn’t have guessed that he preferred the submissive role.

He was pretty shy, but Michael knew what he was doing constantly, unlike the constant chaos she was.

“Oh” she simply mumbled, before gently grabbing his hand from his side, pushing them up, over his head “… then… I think it’s my time to do something about it…”.

And she reached behind his legs, touching him over the clothes, meanwhile his hips keep rutting in the heel of her hand, meanwhile she giggled with mischief in her smile.

“… if you feel uncomfortable in the slightest, say “Gucci”…”.

She had never been the “dominant” of her relationships she hadn’t also very much thought about it, since sex was always some kind of childish thing with her previous partners: it was as if it had its passages and then… it was done… finished, whether you came or not.

Things had never been discussed and, although she tried to be vocal on her likes and her dislikes, most of the time “the man knew better” and she was always halfway through kicking them in the groin the following morning when they offered a second round.

That’s why she wanted Michael to be comfortable.

And also… not to lose that gaze full of admiration for her, although she felt like she might not deserve it.

“Did you…?” Michael laughed straight up in her face, and before she knew it her hand had quit the movement on his clothes and delivered a sound slap to his thigh, getting a pained moan “… that hurt”.

“You disrespected me, baby boy” she didn’t know how she had managed to speak like that, mostly due to her hate for pet-name, but Michael (literally) stood at attention “… it doesn’t work like that, you do it one more time, and you will not come for the entire night”.

Michael gulped down a big load of saliva and she took a moment to wait for his answer, taking in the beauty of the model: some of the red eyeshadows had been roughly smushed around the lid, and she saw the lipstick mark of the color she had worn that night on his neck.

He still looked like a beauty and she was curious about how beautiful he could get if ruined.

“Yes, mistress” he replied, searching her approval, since her gaze had wandered off him, but he didn’t dare touch her “I will be more respectful”.

She gently caressed his face, collecting a bit of sweat, before she leaned down on a kiss-mark to bite on it gently and leaving a hickey on it.

And meanwhile this happened, she delivered another slap to Michael’s hip, hearing him let out a pained moan which she quieted with a kiss, cooing him in his mouth, meanwhile she gently guided to turn him around.

“Good boy” she started peppering kisses on his shoulder-blades, Michael relaxing again under her touch and didn’t see the sound slap she gave him on his plump ass, which got an howl from the poor boy “… this is for speaking up, in matters you don’t have a say into”.

She then delivered another.

“This is for not being quick in answering me, I expect the best from my boy”.

Another.

“This is for not counting… and believe me you will get one till we reach ten” she waited for Michael frail “three”, checking any discomfort in his voice, but although Michael’s held a painful sting to it, it was hazed and rough due to the excitement he was in “… and then if you are a good boy… I might think about letting things go further…”.

And this got Michael to count, whining for each slap, till ten, meanwhile she adjusted him onto her laps (she couldn’t help but laugh at the size difference, but only inside, outside she needed to try to be stern).

When Michael breathed out the “ten”, she gently helped him to get in a more comfortable position, meanwhile he kind of limped due to the redness and stinginess on his ass, which she caressed in an attempt to comfort him, as she gently cooed him and complimented him on how well he had taken his punishment.

“My beautiful good boy…” she cooed on his lips, gently kissing him with peppering kisses, in an attempt to get his hazy eyes to focus on her, which happened and immediately Michael was on her lap, trying not to crush her, giggling gently.

“Wasn’t I good, mistress?” mischief shined in his eyes, which clearly told her that he knew the answer “… don’t I deserve a reward?”.

She knew that she was being a bit too easy to satisfy him, that she should have made him beg more…

… but he was the cutest with his pouty lips.

And she lowered onto him, her nose skimming his stomach, laying wet kisses on it with carefulness to his gasps and his moans, mapping his skin, from the most sensitive to the least, passing again on the formers in order to blow air on them and leave hickeys on them.

She then reached his pants and brought them down, alongside the fishnets, his bulge appearing from his designer boxers, the length clearly bigger than the ones she was “accustomed” to, and her mouth watered, opening slightly and mouthing over the “Versace” boxers.

Michael shifted and she just needed a glare to make the flinching stop, a nervous glance shone again in Michael’s face, as if he was scared, but that fear brought him even closer to ecstasy she knew it, but the way its body trembled under her fingers, meanwhile she traced patterns on his stomach.

“Don’t ruin your reward, sweetie, wouldn’t want to hold you over the edge, right when you are falling from it”.

And then her mouth engulfed him again, taking more than before, still over the fabric but he lost himself, still he kept himself stiller than before, for which he was rewarded with a tiny peck on the tip of his cock, meanwhile an hand went to fondle him inside the boxers, finally pushing them down.

Her eyes shone at the leaking pre-cum on the tip, at the redness and silky feeling of the entire length which was confirmed by a quick touch, getting a shy moan from Michael: he sounded almost pathetic, but there was some melody in that ruin.

She lowered her mouth on him, meanwhile her eyes met him and soon their gazes were enthralled and linked, and she was unable to watch away as much as him…

… and when her mouth wrapped on him, he closed his eyes, just to be slightly reprimanded with a slap on his thigh, and a silly pinch.

She started with the tip, kitten lick and engulfing it in the warmth of her mouth, and the moved further, trying to take as much as she could and fit the rest in her hands, meanwhile teeth were sheltered under her lips, and hair fell down deliberately around her.

She must have been a truly masterpiece.

But Michael kept on looking at her, as if she was indeed some goddess and she only felt spurred by this to continue her ministration, till she felt him twitch and she backed off from him, a devilish smile on her face.

“… beg me, my sweet boy”.

Michael was clearly taken by surprise and she couldn’t help but lean down to kiss his lips, letting him taste pre-cum on them, but retreating to quickly, another way to tease him, as the hands that wasn’t working on him, caressed distractedly his nipples.

“I am not hearing anything, Michael” she taunted him, lightly.

“Please…” it was soft, and low, and she pretended not to hear it “… please, mistress, I need to come…”.

“That was quite cute, but you didn’t seem so desperate…” she considered, even holding an hand under her chin, as if she was thinking about it as the other speed up the rhythm on his cock “… and don’t forget… you have to wait for my permission to cum”.

Michael sniffled, slightly, showing teary eyes and she broke off character thinking that maybe she had gone too far.

“… did I go too far?” any teasing or annoying tone was brought away, and just worry filled her eyes.

Michael also broke away from his role, although tears shone in his eyes, he smiled, shyly.

“I haven’t said Gucci, have I?” he asked, sassily and the ruling part of her wanted to gently slap him across the face, for such disrespect, but then his voice broke off, excitement and haziness showing in her “… I am fine”.

“I was just scared I got a bit taken by this…” she tried, meanwhile he gently “… but now that we both know it’s fine, I suggest you to beg, because if you are not that desperate we can go on, for a little bit… longer”.

Michael’s teary eyes this time didn’t stop her and she just waited, till Michael obnoxiously mumbled a “please” after another, and another and she knew that he was basically on the brink of an orgasm, and although it would have been truly cruel to let him like this, she gave him the nod, which led to the permission…

…which lead him to come roughly and thick creamy cum was soon coating her hand.

He almost passed out, since not only he was breathing heavy enough for her to be sure that even the neighbors heard him, and worst of all his eyes rolled back and for a few moments she was sure that he was out for the tonight.

But then his hand reached out for her, as if he was asking for something to anchor him back after a mind-blowing orgasm, which got her to cradle him closer, his hand on her thighs, gently caressing his hair, meanwhile she waited for him to come back.

And when he did, he smiled softly and shyly, and she did her best to reassure him with gentleness and softness trying her best to make the atmosphere feel comfortable with him.

“I have to admit that I have never… you know… that hard”.

It was almost cute to see Michael like that after he had just acted that loosely with her, but she tried not to bring it up, the poor boy was already burning from embarrassment, she just shushed him,,kissing his forehead.

“Well… it was also my first time, in that kind of dynamic, I hope I wasn’t too rough” she asked, meanwhile she kept on taking slow care of him.

She thought about seriously giving him a bath, mostly because they were both a sticky mess, and the eyeshadows she had loved was smeared also on his nose, which she flickered gently to get his attention.

“… you were amazing” he replied, softly, his tone rough “… I think that nobody did make me feel like this, I honestly felt so secure with you, you always make me feel, like that”.

“Of course, sweetie” she kissed his nose, this time; the compliment went straight up to her mind, she couldn’t help but feel amazed that he felt like that about her, it was an honor, truly “… I love you, and this means that I want every inch of you”.

“People have always made me feel stupid for what I was…I was always too pretty, too stupid, too feminine and nobody ever wanted me for me” he gently reached for one of her hands, to kiss it gently “… not you, you are infinitely patient with me, and don’t mind each of my ‘flaws’…”.

“They are not flaws, Michael” she replied, meanwhile he looked at her up, surprised “… they are what make you, you, and I wouldn’t change anything in the slightest, so don’t even think about a moment that they ‘flaws’ “.

“You make me beyond happy, (Y/N)” he mumbled shyly, kissing again her hand, and laid a soft kiss onto her thighs, and she couldn’t help the shiver that left her body at the sheer contact.

For the entire time she had been focused only on Michael’s pleasure, but she couldn’t hide for much more hers, copious and heavy between her thighs, wetting the inside of them and she was sure that had Michael kissed a bit higher, he would have met her wetness.

She was still wearing her fishnets and panties under them, but her excitement was evident, and Michael couldn’t help but take in, a guilty look on his face.

“I wasn’t a true gentleman… I didn’t let you finish first” he mumbled, shyly and he quickly moved to make himself place between her legs, his intention clear.

“… oh you don’t have to” she giggled, trying to dissipate her embarrassment, closing her legs to stop him “… it was fine, I actually”.

“Oh no you don’t get it” he rapidly broke her fishnets and she couldn’t help but wonder where her gentle boy had gone, mostly when he looked at her like that, with a devilish glint in his eyes “… I want my revenge for before, so sit back, little princess and let me handle it”.

And soon his tongue was between her legs and she couldn’t think about anything more, except begging for more.

… oh, how the table have turned.

Mallory was drinking her coffee, when they finally decided to exit the bed, Michael had insisted for a morning round, just to be remembered halfway through it that he had a meeting in thirty minutes, and she had had to take the reins in her hands.

Well, now they were both satisfied and in need of breakfast, just to be welcomed by Mallory’s knowing glance, and she discovered even more because of the evident hickeys on both of them, and the little bruises she had left on Michael’s hips with the pinching and the slapping.

(Michael still hissed when he sat down on the table, for the spanking of the previous night).

“Shouldn’t you be at Coco’s?” she asked to dissipate the embarrassment.

“I have a meeting in twenty minutes” and then she looked at Michael, after she had taken a sip from her coffee mug “So does Michael”.

The boy, smiled shyly, almost hiding behind her and she wondered where had gone the boy who had eaten her out till tears, last night, rutting his hips in the mattress…

… probably the same place where Mallory’s interest for her own matters went.

“I can give you a lift, if you get me a mug of coffee” suggested Michael and Mallory just smirked, going to the kitchen, leaving them alone, meanwhile Michael gently leaned down for a “goodmorning kiss”.

“… see you tonight, lovely” he giggled, before kissing again his forehead.

“So we are that couple?” she replied, sarcasm coming from each poor of her.

“Sweetie you kicked somebody in the groin for me, of course we are that couple” he exclaimed, kissing her forehead quickly “… love you”.

“Love you, too”.

---

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