#macho dadddies

[maturetemptations]

Ronaldo Carletto. Still one of the hottest men I ever saw. Pure sex.

I always save an extra special hardon for a man with aquiline nose.

[finn-ray-nal-beads]

I posted 2,448 times in 2021

207 posts created (8%)

2241 posts reblogged (92%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 10.8 posts.

I added 629 tags in 2021

#adam driver - 155 posts

#kylo ren - 90 posts

#adamdriver - 67 posts

#clyde logan - 58 posts

#flip zimmerman - 55 posts

#flip zimmerman x reader - 54 posts

#clyde logan x reader - 44 posts

#maybe your left fuck you - 40 posts

#flip zimmerman x you - 34 posts

#kylo ren x reader - 32 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#i’m sorry this is the last post i’m doing y’all i’ve been blowing shit up i need to do actual things and i’m avoiding them because dadddy

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Afternoon Delight

A/N: Hey everyone! I finally have another update for these two! We’re thankfully out of the drama that was Woodstock and headed to prep for the last half of this lil’ novella! I hope everyone has enjoyed it so far! So much more to come! As always please lmk if you would like to be added or removed from this taglist and as always, ya girl has songs added into this chapter that are linked and on my Flip Playlist located in my Masterlist. Thank you all and I love the support and love on here! I will update again when I have the time! 

Warnings: face fucking, Dom!Flip, gagging/choking/coughing, aftercare (because our soft mach man can’t stand not taking care of us), mentions of floofs (we do something... naughty), mentions of BJ’s, mentions of handjobs, mentions of children, dirty talk, slight daddy kink (not very much and it’s not DDLG), smut smut smut and more SMUT, cum swallowing, cum eating, diddling your own skittle, copious amounts of fluff, and a dash of razzle dazzle

(6 months later) 

The sun peeked through the ivory curtains, revealing the chirping birds and the alarm clock as it sounded through the quiet room. 

“Mmmm,” you mumbled under a mess of crisp sheets and a down comforter, feeling out for the ringing on the nightstand to switch it off, “Ugh, fuck, Phil,” you groaned, knowing full well he had set the alarm so you’d wake up at a better time than you previously would alone. 

Your messy hair appearing from under the clouds of pillows to punch the clock off, rubbing your tired eyes as you stretched out to see the glorious morning showing through your huge window. After the drama-filled weekend in Bethel, Flip insisted you move in. The truck halted at your house in a frenzy as he loaded boxes of your stuff into the dusty tailgate to which you offered help but were snubbed because he was a man for God’s sake and couldn’t have you lift a pinky even if he did need assistance. 

It was both endearing and suffocating to have such a macho man in your presence, but of course, you got used to it as the months trudged on. He was so helpful, making coffee in the morning before the sun rose, chopping wood in the backyard for the gorgeous fireplace in the living room, and you returned the favors by being the doting wife-to-be. Decorating the house with kitschy knick-knacks, throws, pillows, and shifting the vibe to become more ‘homey’ as you called it. Flip had never been one to decorate, nor knew what a down comforter was before you both went shopping for one on his very few days off. 

______________

“Honey, why would we get a white bed?” he gestured to the set you’d been eyeing in the department store for months, the matching sheets a crisp white as well, “this has got to be the worst color to pick,” he groaned, rubbing his goatee as you smoothed out the display, motioning the checker over to ring up the prices for you.

“It’s the style I’m going for, cowboy,” winking at him and looking around for some accent pillows, curtains to match, and a rug to put the whole room together, “it’s gonna go so perfect with the wood in the bedroom honey, I promise!” gripping his shirt collar to drag him down for a kiss. 

“Please?” whining with puppy eyes as you made him feel a furry pillow you’d been holding, “we can stain test it if you let me buy it?” biting your lip as you set the pillow in his arms. 

He rolled his eyes, picking the back pocket of his jeans where his wallet laid and handed you the cash to get whatever you felt would decorate the room the best.

“This,” he flailed the money in your lit-up face, “is your budget honey,” glowing amber eyes staring into your smile as he handed it to you. You squealed, turning around to find the rest of the accents to compliment the bedding and settling on just enough to fix it up just right for you and him. 

This, of course, was how you got the entire house decorated the correct way. Buttering him up with dirty ideas, hand jobs in the car rides to various places, the occasional road-head when needed for a large purchase like the sectional couch that adorned your living room. 

“Can I smoke in here?” he panted, sweating from the price tag of the couch, “fuck it I’m gonna do it, holy fuckin’ shit,” grunting as he lit a filter in the showroom, feeling relief as he saw the salesman light one at his desk before approaching you both with the numbers. 

“Honey don’t you worry,” patting his thick chest as he exhaled a plume away from your face, “I’ll give you a nice sloppy one on it once we get it home,” tugging his collar as you kissed that special spot on his ear, sending shivers all the way to his dick. He loved it when you went shopping for this shit, but of course wasn’t going admit it for fear he’d go bankrupt over the carnal sex you were having. It was all a give and take dance, after all.

The wedding preparations were also going fairly smoothly. You’d both decided the best place to ‘do the deed’ would be in an outdoor setting, booking a gorgeous Cheyenne Mountain Campground for the hoards of guests who had been RSVPing since the invites had been sent out. 

The wedding dress you’d picked was found out of the blue when walking down the street past a local shop. The gown was a perfect ivory tone, the lace cinching just right in the fitting for alterations. It was a vision and it made you and your mother cry when she visited from out of town to see her daughter try it on. 

Things were just perfect. Flip was perfect. The house was perfect. The wedding was coming together in every way. A sigh of relief since the Woodstock incident.

_______________

You finally got out of bed after your second round of coffee, enjoying the spring morning as you sipped and read a few chapters of a book. You had put on The Led Zeppelin album via the record player in the living room. The echoing of the guitar riffs floating in an effervescence through the home as you danced on the hardwood floors. 

You went to turn on the shower, singing along to Stairway To Heaven, seeing the steam emanating from the glass box as the water heated to the perfect temperature. You loved your morning showers, taking the time and effort to wash every nook and cranny as it had been most likely railed the night before in a sweaty fervor of teeth, tongue, and inevitable cock shoving. You had to make sure you were perfect. Not just for him, but yourself. That’s the one thing your relationship with him had brought out. 

In the previous years, you were always worried about the pleasure and satisfaction of everyone around you, bowing and catering to every whim a boyfriend asked for. Losing yourself in their personalities and suffering as you cowered in your low self-esteem. But with Flip, it was wholly different. 

He was as independent as one could get. Survived on very little and bowed to no other person to get ahead in life. He was tough, rigid, and knew what he wanted out of life. His tenacity struck a chord with you. His drive made you want to be better for him and even more so, for yourself. Whether he knew it or not, he changed how you saw yourself. You would wake up in the morning feeling a better sense of purpose, shying away from the temptations of being absolutely rebellious, and focusing on things that made you happy and a better person. 

Hell, he even changed his stubborn ways… mostly. He learned to be patient with you, to take you as you were, and to love you with everything he had, which wasn’t hard for him. 

So, you cherished being life partners. Loving the cozy little home you’d made together, the laughs, the love, the sex, and the very few fights. It was just kismet. 

“What should we do today, Y/N?” sipping your third cup of coffee as you glazed over the guest list, making sure to check off the people who had mailed in more RSVPs the day prior. 

You picked up the ads in the paper after going through the list for the final time, folding it so you could look for a decent catering company to go up to the grounds and serve the wedding. You glazed over them, looking for signs of any restaurant offering deals when you came upon something. 

“Oh my god,” putting a fingernail in your mouth to bite it, looking at the ad staring you in the face, “Y/N don’t fucking,” grabbing the scissors to cut the thing out of the newspaper. 

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93 notes • Posted 2021-02-01 22:01:10 GMT

#4

Restraint

Pat + Five Dollar Footlong + 🌽

Ily

JUST CALL ME THE CORNCOB QUEEN BECAUSE IMA MAKE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THESE BOYS COBBLE US IF IT KILLS ME... 

@butyoudidthis4what​ YOU ASKED FOR IT NOW TAKE IT LIKE A GOOD GIRL FOR ME 🥴

“Honey?” your sweet husband called from the bedroom having just arrived home from a long shift at the station. 

He came in straining. His shoulders tense, his neck wrung, and even more apparent his cock ached. Pressing on the inside of his slacks, listing lazily to the left as he kept tucking it in through the duration of his shift. 

Everything he had seen that day reminded him of you. The faint smell of your perfume lingering in his nose from earlier that morning as he kissed your forehead goodbye. The thought of your naked body encased in those soft sheets as you slept in while he trudged in the cold to work. The warm embrace of the shower caressing your form as his hands would have if it were a weekend morning. It all was overwhelming his mind the majority of the day. 

He couldn’t wait to get home. With every tick of his watch, he became giddier at the thought of you crying underneath him as he railed into you, the headboard knocking the paint off the wall in the bedroom as he reveled in your want for him.

And tonight when he walked in the door, seeing you in that curve-hugging dress you wore around the house to do odds and ends things, he nearly came in his pants. He knew you weren’t wearing underwear. You never did when you were home alone, bearing that glistening cunt for the whole house to see as you did your chores and cooked up a storm. He didn’t notice a bra either given the stiff peaks that rose when you opened the fridge to grab some minced garlic for the pasta dish you were slaving over. 

He wanted to grab you. Wanted to bend you over the counter while he pulled that little dress up to reveal the globe of an ass you had underneath and smack the skin until it was raw with raised prints. 

He was feral for you. The sweat beginning the bead on his forehead as he gulped a swig of water from the sink in the bathroom. His disheveled face staring him back in the mirror as he removed his layers, leaving him in his trademark t-shirt and tented boxers. 

The fabric catching on his glistening tip as he tried to adjust himself for the dozenth time, giving in after the pep talk he gave himself in the mirror. 

That’s when you heard his timid voice call you. That sweet song of his as he beckoned you to the bedroom. 

“Yes, baby?” singing back in a melody that made his cock twitch, “what is it? I’m kinda busy making-,” you couldn’t even finish as you took in the scene before you. Your poor husband, completely spent as he heaved out breaths from his thick chest, his erection so apparent it pained you upon looking at it peaking from his briefs. 

“Oh my sweet baby,” you pandered, crossing your legs as you leaned in on the doorframe, “did someone miss me today?” walking in strides over to him as his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. 

You traced a finger down his jawline, neck, encircling a nipple as it strained in his t-shirt, and then finally gripping the elastic on his boxers. Breathing slightly on the side of his head, your lips ghosted his earlobe. He shuddered at the feeling of you, inhaling a deep breath as he took in that floral scent of yours, practically on the cusp of cumming again. 

“Is there something… special… you’d like to do to me, honey?” begging him to take you with everything he had. Kissing along his neck as he tried to formulate the right words, gripping your ass as he ground himself on you with a low grunt. 

“Use your words, honey,” voice just above a whisper as he kissed the side of your neck, the fire stoking in your spine as he touched you more and more. 

“Take this fucking thing off before I rip it to shreds,” growling into your shoulder blade as he bit it just enough to hurt slightly.

“Yes sir,” winking as you backed up removing the garment with a show, of course, shaking your hips to make your tits bounce in the air, gasping and fanning your hair out as you dropped it on the floor. 

“This better?” inching your way to him as he strained another set of breaths, his patience wearing very thin at this point. 

“Almost,” he whispered, ghosting over your collarbone as he ate your figure with a thousand-yard stare, “I want you to get on your knees and beg for my cock, Y/N,” the words leaving faster than his brain could comprehend as he pouted his lips looking at you. 

You smirked, the goosebumps forming on your body as you reveled in his domineering behavior. This was rare for him to be so forward, and when it happened it felt like Christmas.

Getting down on your knees with an eagerness, you looked up at him as innocent as you could muster, showing him your open mouth while he gazed down at you. The angle showing his thick cock in the best way as you salivated for it.  

“Just like this?” fluttering your lashes as you wiggled your ass like a puppy, his hand gripping his heavy sac watching you be the best girl for him. 

“Take my pants off,” he grunted, feeling your delicate hands pull them down in one fail swoop as his member bobbed in your face. It hooked to the left in a flush of magenta as it strained for release. His huge balls dangling your face as you took in his weeping tip, the white contrasting with the angry red as it dripped for you. 

As you reached for him, the electricity pulsing through your body while you followed his gaze. The sudden feeling of his tip slapping the side of your face sending you into a blacked-out state of shock. You reached for your cheek, feeling the precum that slid on the skin as you scooped it in your fingers. 

“Holy shit,” he whispered, looking frightened as you met his line of vision, “honey I’m so sorry I-I don’t know what came over me I-I,” not able to finish as you sucked the spend off yourself in a sloppy kiss and a pop. 

“Do that shit again,” a devilish smile painting your face as you strained your neck to meet the tip of his cock, “come on baby, slap me a little harder than that… I can take it,” the tingling moving straight to your cunt as he gulped another breath down.

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94 notes • Posted 2021-02-04 23:56:15 GMT

#3

Sackler, my love. Sackler. I neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed him to give me a little slap or a few. I'll let you and Sackler decide..

A/N: @mariesackler I LITERALLY CANNOT WITH YOU... I HOPE YOUR CUNT IS AS SLICKED UP AS MINE WAS WHEN I WROTE THIS. I LOVEY OU MOST MY DARLING!

Warnings: Cock slapping, face fucking, cum eating, cum swallowing, using cum as lipgloss if that’s a warning?, all of the cum I can fit in to one fic, mentions of huge cocks (horsecocks if you will), DOM!Sackler, degradation, slight edging, slight breeding kink, doggystyle, dirty talk, stuffing like an Xmas turkey, just all of the smut possible, a little fluff at the end for my baby 

*SNAP* 

‘My kitty misses you baby 😘’ 

*Three bubbles immediately popping up* 

‘When I get home, you had better be on your knees waiting for me, kid’ 

Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach as your cunt clenched the open air. Your smirk staring through your phone as you marveled at the skill and lighting it took just to send a simple picture.

You bit your lip, bringing a finger to them as you rubbed the moist skin, looking at your closet to figure out what to wear to impress him even more. 

He was out on an audition, the prepping before meaning there was no horsing around or funny business to be had. He had to get into the zone, going over his lines endlessly, even dressing in character to nail it down just right. 

The pent up tension was too much for you. It had been two weeks. TWO WEEKS. Since he touched you, made you feel utterly full of him while he whispered sweet nothings over your sated figure. 

You missed the sound of the headboard knocking, the smell of his musk wafting through your nose as his sweat would drip over your tits while he fucked you into oblivion. 

His dirty words would have you moaning like an absolute whore for his cock. You were practically on the verge of tears as you got up from the bed, rifling through your clothes while your body shook in the open air of the bedroom. 

You slipped on a lace number, the cleavage spilling out the top of it in the best way as you tightened the straps of the garter belt, your thighs looking extra plump as the curve of your ass hugged the thong in a sinful way.

You finished the look with a killer red lip, smacking your mouth together to spread the gorgeous color that paired so perfectly with your garb. You tapped your foot, glaring at yourself in the mirror to decide whether or not you’d finish the masterpiece off by wearing his favorite pumps. The ones that he stated ‘made you look like his favorite pornstar’ had been sitting collecting dust since the beginning of the year, begging to be worn. 

“Oh, what the hell,” you relented, sauntering over to place them on your feet, then admiring your figure in the mirror, “Mhmmm, yes ma’am,” you playfully smacked your own ass, satisfied with this plan as you glanced at the time on the clock. 

He’d be home any minute now. You readjusted your tits in the mirror, puckering your lips to make sure nothing had gotten out of place, and clicked over to the front door, situating yourself like the good girl you were. 

The burning sensation in your pelvis a full-on flame as you heard his heavy footfalls climbing the stairway. You jumped a little, so excited you’d taken this chance to rile him up, waiting in anticipation for what he was going to punish you with for being such a bad girl.

The key turned in the lock, his heavy body pushing it open, his head hanging low looking at the knob while he slammed it tight, locking the deadbolt before dropping his messenger back with a thud. 

He let out a heavy breath, running a hand through his hair as he threw the keys in the bowl, then turned around to find you perched looking so delicious. 

“My lil’ brat does take orders,” he growled, his t-shirt hugging his taut muscles as he surveyed his prize in front of him, “doesn’t mean I’m not gonna punish you for makin’ me all hard before my audition.” 

You whined, watching his long legs come in front of you, doe eyes gazing up at his dilated pupils, “I know I was a bad girl, baby,” putting your hands behind your back while you arched your back to show your jugs to him, “I deserve everything you’re gonna give me,” showing your tongue as you wiggled your ass for him.

“Such a lil’ slut I have,” he cooed, running a thick finger down the bridge of your nose, showing it in your mouth as he watched those cherry red lips suck them feverishly, “so fuckin’ needy for my cock,” your whines emitting from deep in your belly as he pulled his digits in a pop from your face. 

He chuckled darkly, taking his shirt off to reveal his thick body, undoing his belt and his fly as you watched hungrily. His cock popped out like a jack in the box, the springing making it bob deliciously in front of you as the tip wept a thick bead of precum. You licked your lips unconsciously, your tongue falling out again as you moaned from the sight. 

“You want me to fuck your face that bad?” he ran a thick hand up and down the shaft, inching closer as it touched your waiting tongue ever so slightly, a single tear falling down your cheek in anticipation. 

Just as you thought you’d get a release, he whipped the side of your face as hard as he could with his member, the stinging of it radiating as you audibly cried from the blow. 

He reveled in your cries for him, grabbing your face with his free hand as he wiped a tear from the other cheek, “you’re gonna take my whole cock, kid,” pushing your uninjured side to face him and slapping you with his dick to match, “and you’re gonna swallow like the good whore you are,” bringing your half bitten lip to line a precum coating over the lipstick. 

You nodded, black streams mixing with the raised bumps on your cheeks as you glazed your lips with him. 

“Open that fucking mouth,” he commanded, watching your gaze meet his, barely giving you any time to breathe as he bottomed out to your windpipe. 

The sensation taking you aback as you gagged around him, his hands finding clumps of your hair while he held you still on his pubic bone. He mused at your moans, feeling your tongue graze his shaft, your lips pulse on his base, and the feeling of your hair in his fingers. 

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107 notes • Posted 2021-02-07 01:40:39 GMT

#2

A Tight Squeeze

A/N: You all can blame @contesa-lui-alucard for this monstrosity... I literally am in love with this character now and I will never stop... I slept on him SO hard and I REGRET IT! Thank you for the inspiration and this fic is so self indulgent I wish Pat was my true baby daddy... Enjoy loves!🖤

Warnings: tw: pregnancy, tw: pregnancy kink, obscene amounts of marital fluff and love, tw: breeding kink, tw: unprotected sex, tw: doggystyle, tw: very slight edging, tw: body image, tw: slight depression (regarding body image and self esteem), lots of fluff (because Pat is fluffy), tw: daddy kink, tw: hair pulling, creampies (I mean when am I NOT doing a creampie?) a smidgen of Dom!Pat because I CANNOT control myself

(PLZfor the love of Satan lmk if I miss a tag or TW... I am only human and I make errors all the time)

“Goddammit!” you practically cried, seeing the thousandth piece of clothing you owned barely fitting around your new curves. The look of defeat and sorrow running across your pretty face from the mirror as you twisted and turned to somehow wish the new poundage away.

“Honey?” a sheepish voice called from the kitchen in your quaint home, his heavy footfalls coming steadily as he padded back to your bathroom.

His precious features gracing the floor-length mirror as he crowded the edge of the molding on the frame of the closet.

He gasped slightly, surveying the scene before him. His cock stirred in his jeans as he appraised your body, the new planes from the growing baby inside you making you glow with an effervescence he had never seen before.

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he caught his breath, your tits plunging out of the small tank top, bouncing as you frustratingly tried to pull it over your growing bump, to no avail as the bottom half and your belly button poked from under the hemline.

The leggings barely fitting on your thighs as they clutched onto your globe of an ass. He wished on all the stars that you couldn’t fit into your underwear and had forgone them all together so he could rip the seam and go to town on your backside.

“Pat,” you whined his name, running your hands over your belly, clearly upset you had a dwindling wardrobe as the days progressed.

“I need to get some new stuff honey,” your pretty lips going into a full pout as the tears rolled down your cheeks. You never had any reason to feel as unattractive as you had just now. He had never given you any indication he didn’t think you were the most beautiful creature on this planet. In fact, when he and you had found out about the baby, he was completely overjoyed and more touchy than he had ever been in the years he’d been married to you.

His feral instincts had kicked into hyperdrive when he became a father-to-be. Making sure you were well taken care of in all aspects including but not limited to cleaning, cooking, foot rubs, nightly baths, and of course reading poetry to you and your unborn son as he grew bigger and bigger.

He loved every detail of it. The gross and good parts, and ebbed and flowed with every single mood swing and nauseous feeling you had. He was the perfect husband, and here he was, looking at you as if you were the most gorgeous goddess he had ever seen. In fact, you were to him, no matter how many times he had been in utter disbelieve that you gave him the time of day let alone let him fuck you three or more times a day.

“Okay baby,” he cooed, coming over to wrap you in the biggest hug he could, rubbing your back as you sobbed over this minor detail in your pregnancy.

He hushed and rocked you, petting your hair, while you inhaled his fresh scent, rubbing your face in his cotton t-shirt as he whispered the sweetest nothings into your ear.

“It’s gonna be okay honey,” he murmured, “you still look absolutely perfect to me my sweet love,” the words making you tear up even more as he kept with his praises.

“You’re absolutely amazing,” his chorus kept going, the baby suddenly joining in the party as he kept talking, “we both think you are, mama,” the sobs catching in your throat as your son kicked a series in your stomach, his low baritone only encouraging the movements as he kept on.

“In fact, I think mama could use a nice bath and something sweet to eat… What do you think?” he arched back to see your head pop up from its place, his precious smirk making you smile with glassy eyes while you nodded.

“That’s exactly what I think too,” kissing your forehead with the lightest effort, “okay, go get out of these, and I’ll get it going for you, deal?” his eyebrows raised as he ran a hand over the expanse of your bump, cradling underneath while you wiped your cheeks off with your hands.

He kissed over your face before heading to the bathroom to run the tub, the lavender scent emanating as the water filled the basin.

You struggled out of your clothing, cursing the companies who made your clothes as you did so. You felt like burning them in a fire or ripping them to shreds but settled on maturity rather than violence as the clothes weren’t the issue.

Your body ached from the weight of everything. The baby of course wasn’t your average-sized fetus, being that his father was a whopper when he was born. You never assumed, however, that he could be as heavy as he felt the more he grew inside you. And you also didn’t take into account the toll his size would take on yourself as the months dragged on. But willful ignorance is what you went with, and with that came karma in its truest form.

No matter how much you hurt and complained, you loved your boys, size and all, and you knew you wouldn’t do this for any man except for your precious Pat.

He was truly just the best partner in every sense of the word. And this simple gesture of making sure you practiced some self-care was his way, amongst many, of showing you how much he appreciated the sacrifices you were making for him and your growing family.

You waded into the steaming water, the enveloping hug of warmth shrouding your emotional state into numbness as the floral notes caressed your senses. This was heavenly, you thought, submerging your body as far as possible into the water, the top of your belly poking out like a small island in the ocean as you relaxed.

You closed your eyes, trying to take in the serenity, rubbing slow circles on the sides of your taut stomach as the baby relaxed within you.

Your meditation was so deep after a few minutes, you never heard Pat come in to check on you.

His hand found the exposed skin, calloused fingers enveloping it in a heated touch as he whispered to you, “how are we doing now mama?” he cooed, his soft smile in the warm light bringing you to tears again.

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124 notes • Posted 2021-04-14 04:29:42 GMT

#1

peanut butter balls w clyde

A/N: ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE ANGEL... @maybe-your-left I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY WITH YOURSELF! I AM NOW GOING TO UNSUBSCRIBE TO MY OWN BLOG..

Warnings: Voyeurism, BLUE BALLS, tw: pregnancy, tw: breeding kink, cum eating, masturbation, dirty talk, also sweet talk because Clyde is baby, cowgirl style, fondling those BIG BALLS, copious amounts of description of horsecocks, copious amounts of cum (just a swimming pool size full of his cum if you will), just pure fuckin’ smut and fluff because I cannot get off the DadBod train tonight or ever (thank you @in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather I love you forever), tw: mentions of somnophilia, tw: I am back on my bullshit and better than ever bitches! 

The clock read five in the morning as he stared it down menacingly. Having just gotten home from the bar to your sleeping form peacefully huddled against his pillow, inhaling the sweet scent of him while he slaved away at work.

He laid down gingerly, careful not to disturb you as he knew you hadn’t been sleeping too well given the state you had been in over the first few weeks of it all. The vomiting, the tears, the rush of hormones coupled with outbursts of anger and pain from your breasts had all been weighing on you. 

He gave you your space, knowing from his research that the second trimester would be so much different. Hoping the book wasn’t lying to him about that and waiting as patiently as he could for you to come around. 

Those nights he’d find you keeled over the toilet, cursing his name as he stumbled through the door of the trailer. He hated all of it, wishing he could take the ugly parts away for you. But he knew, and so did you, that it was all for the greatest adventure yet, so it was worth the endless tears and heartburn. 

So, on nights like tonight, he’d rub the stray hair from your face, peeking under the covers to place a gentle hand on that growing bump of yours, hoping soon he’d feel a little kick as he teared up thinking about how amazing you were for growing this precious baby. 

He loved you even more than he could count on his fingers and toes, and when you’d both found out, it was both a sigh of relief and joy as you both finally had the thing you’d been afraid wasn’t possible. It was perfect. Except on these nights when he couldn’t sleep. 

When he ached for your luscious cunt enveloping his after a long day’s work. He wouldn’t dare wake you up for it, for fear of the mama bear wrath, but godammit did he wish you were having just as tough a time sleeping as he was. 

He tossed and turned, the light of the clock seemingly getting brighter as he huffed around in the bed. Clad in only his boxers, as he kicked off the sheets in a fit of frustration, his tent very apparent as he adjusted his blue balls in between his thighs, the burning sensation causing a low hiss to leave his mouth. 

“Fuck me,” he whispered, getting up with his good hand to sit his huge frame on the edge of the bed, rubbing his face in it as he let out another heavy sigh. 

He strained up, cracking his back as he meandered to the living room and then the kitchen. Shuffling to the kitchen window, he huffed, looking out into the blackness of the early morning, thinking about making himself something to eat to curb his lack of sleep. 

He padded over to the fridge, grabbing his favorite huckleberry jelly out of the side door, then the pantry to get his bread and peanut butter. Laying out a paper plate as he slowly opened the drawer to grab a knife, making damn sure he didn’t make a peep as he slathered the contents together. He pulled the stool out from the island, straining himself to not scoot it too loud on the tile while he devoured his sandwich in the light of the kitchen. 

He looked around, reaching for some chips you’d left out on the counter earlier, crinkling the bag to get a few out before he became thirsty. He strained back up, the pain in his balls returning with every movement as they hit his meaty thighs. 

“Jesus,” he whispered, gripping them in his hand before he took another step, “I gotta do somethin’ ‘bout this,” gritting out as he got the gallon of juice out of the fridge to cop a swig from it, knowing if you had witnessed it he’d be in the biggest trouble. 

Letting out a huge sigh and a burp, he got back on the stool and finished the rest of his five AM snack, still feeling that dulled pain in his lower half as he tossed the remaining things in the trash and plopping on the couch to turn on the TV as he still didn’t feel tired. 

He mindlessly flipped through the channels, settling on a sitcom before wincing in another sharp pain as he adjusted himself, legs spread wide on the couch. His cock still half-hard knowing your half-naked ass was laying in bed, no doubt the wetness building up from your sleep. He loved surprising you in the morning, feeling that slicked up pussy as he would snake a hand or his tip in between your folds, waking you up in the best way he could think of. 

His dick twitched at the thought, his hand sliding in his briefs as he gripped his thick girth at its base, unveiling it in the brightness of the TV. 

His chest heaved, the sensitivity that had built up over weeks of nothing was too much for him to take at this point. Spitting on his large hand as he spread the slick over himself, his dripping tip mixing with his saliva as he traced his bulged out veins along his shaft. 

Throwing his head back at the feeling, wishing it wasn’t his hand fucking himself, and picturing that pretty mouth of yours covering him from stem to stern. He pumped his hand up and down steadily, setting the scene for himself while he closed his golden eyes.

You were perfect, knelt in between his thick thighs, kitten licking his tip and pecking sweet kisses on his tummy while he begged for you to do more. Your gorgeous eyes boring into his as your lashes fluttered in innocence licking a long stripe from the base to the tip. A beautiful moan escaping your lips as your tits hit his sensitive sac. 

You grip his belly in your delicate hands, kneading and scratching at it for leverage while you shoved your mouth over his length, the gag escaping your chest causing his breath to hitch as he watched you take him like the good girl you were. 

He thrusts on himself sped up, thinking of you bobbing your pretty head on his large cock, the spit, and tears streaming down your cheeks and jawline in a sloppy mess while he pushed up into you. Holding your pretty hair in an iron grip as he lead you down on him more, your one hand snaking down to grip his pained sac and rolling it in your fingers while he exhaled a groan at the sensation. 

“Goddammit baby girl,” he gritted out, feeling the warming of his release creep up slowly as he kept his imagination running on and on. His eyes still closed as he jerked it on the couch, seemingly unaware of how loud he truly was in the moment. 

You had woken up a few minutes after he’d begun, leaning in on the doorframe as you bit your lip looking at your big bear going to town in the living room. His thick cock making the drippage seep out of your bare cunt as you tried to keep as quiet as possible. 

He kept up with his thoughts, blissfully unaware of the mess he was making you feel in the moment. Your lower belly burning for him as you gripped the little bump that had become more apparent as of late. 

Crossing your legs to avoid more leakage, you leaned your head on the frame as well, reveling in the sweet sounds your husband was making on the sofa. His grunts, curses, moans, and groans were enough to make you blush as he repeated your name over and over. 

The strains getting more feral as he neared his orgasm. You inched forward just before he was about to burst, knowing the faces he made so well as you crawled on your hands in knees like a tiger stalking its prey. 

“Holy s-shit, Y/N,” his low baritone muttered out, the speed on his angry cock had picked up as fervently as he could possibly go in the moment, his precious face conjuring up in all signs of pleasure as the sweat dripped from his temples, his teeth gritted while he tried to reach his edge. 

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247 notes • Posted 2021-02-05 06:20:03 GMT

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[maturetemptations]

Jorge Arango Arias. Panama.

Pure macho!

[maturetemptations]

Ahmet Metin Genç. Turkish.

I love how he's holding hands with the police officer :)

Impressive thighs!

[maturetemptations]

Siljan Micevski, Macedonian

Yumm!

[maturetemptations]

Julio Genesini. GORGEOUS!