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pascalssbabyy · 6 months

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The Accidental Solution

Pairing: Jackson!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ Explicit

Word Count: 17.1k (wtf am I okay?!)

Summary: Joel accidentally walks in on you naked when you’re fresh out of the shower. The situation as you expected leaves questions in the air and Joel to avoid you as much as he can. That’s until you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, no use of Y/N, age gap (Joel is 52 but age of reader is not specified), friends to lovers, plot of how Joel and reader met, description of readers body but again not that specific, sub!Joel, insecure!Joel (he just needs some lovin), but also mean!Joel, Joel gets called a good boy (oops?), pet names, dirty talking, M!masturbation, Joel having filthy thoughts 💭, blowjob, fingering, P in V, unprotected sex (don’t be naughty!), creampie.

Okay listen, I don’t know how the hell this turned into a 17k fic but here we are 🤦🏻‍♀️ why do I have to be someone who has to write in so much detail (because shit this took me ages 😭) anyway… I hope enjoy 🤣 and let me know what you think! Thank you all for being so patient with me as I know it’s been a while! 🥹

Taglist: @harriedandharassed @mumma-moonchild @chyannealaniz @millercontracting 🤍

Warm water cascades down your bare back and shoulders as the heat begins to unravel all those aches and tight knots in your worn-out muscles. You can slowly feel your body letting loose from the long day you’ve just endured; the lengthy walks, the cold nights, the tense stretch felt in the soles of your feet swiftly easing from the water pooling on the shower floor. The steam starts to travel up, surrounding the enclosed walls and clearing up your sinuses. You can smell the freshness of your shampoo and conditioner, the floral scent giving you that comforting feeling of finally being back in the familiarity and safety of your own home. You lather all your products in between your fingers and palms, rubbing them deep into your scalp and across your body, your fingertips massaging the headache and ringing in your ears.

You’re happy to be home. Eyes observing the clock and knowing before your shift even started that patrol this time would be a long one; abruptly waking up at dawn to the repetitive sound of beeping coming from your alarm on your bedside table, tired eyes failing to adjust to the sun rising through the split of your curtains and fighting to pull yourself out of the warmth of your covers. Mornings were always a struggle for you. Attempting to get through your morning routine, having breakfast and quickly getting ready for the day. Your shift goes by smoothly which you’re thankful for, but once it’s over it seems to remind you that you’re returning home to another day gone so soon, your walk back home filled with empty streets and dark skies.

🍃🍃 A few months ago 🍃🍃

You knew Tommy was hesitant at first glance when you’d offered him an extra set of hands with patrol duty. His wide eyes and furrowed brows peering down at you, displaying nothing but a face full of determination and so much willingness. His reaction didn’t surprise you and never bothered you in the slightest, already expecting that certain response from people and knowing exactly why.

You were young; soft in personality and had a pure heart, always being able to see the good in all people. You weren’t someone who belonged within the dangers that surrounded the outskirts of Jackson, and it was rare for someone who’d been in a world that held endangerment and risk to still have that positive outlook on it. But that wasn’t all that you were. You were also devoted and strong-willed, knowledgeable of outside life and full of eagerness, so it didn’t take long to prove to Tommy that you were just what he needed to get the job done.

You were dedicated, fast on your feet and capable of doing and making any necessary decisions to help others you worked with. After a few shifts, you began to notice how the rest of the team started to warm up to you, considering you were still fairly new and just making your way around the ins and outs of the job. Apart from this, everyone who you worked with was kind, respectful and you were able to make a few friendships along the way with a different range of people.

That’s what you enjoyed about the job, how effortless it was for you to get on with the community, and how welcoming they were to any newcomer.

Of course you knew you’d come across certain situations that would have you questioning yourself; how could it be dealt with. How to get around it as efficiently and effectively as you could make it. You were ready for that moment to arise, but what you didn’t expect was that this was first coming your way in the shape of a man. Tommy’s older brother in fact.

And his name was Joel Miller.

You’d heard the name, the way it was whispered around town, eyes unable to look away when said person was nearby. Tommy had mentioned his brother a few times around you, whether it was in meetings or general conversations, and what you had gathered so far was that Joel had been new to Jackson for just a few weeks when he started patrolling, barely having time to settle down in the new environment and heading straight to protecting the people of the town. It didn’t surprise you that Joel was immediately giving himself a persona of negativity and dislike, being a hard man to please and someone who had no intention of getting to know people apart from the obvious; Tommy, Marie and Ellie. He was intimidating, vague and held a stern facial expression that had everyone stepping back.

You knew it was coming. Joel had made his way around certain shifts with different people who’d found it difficult to break him out of his hard, concealed character. So when Tommy mentioned that your next shift was with someone who you hadn’t yet worked with, it didn’t take you long to know exactly who that person was going to be.

Tommy meets up with you before your shift starts, expecting that if he somehow warns you about Joel first, it’ll make the situation less tense. “You see my brother…,” he lets out a deep sigh, “he’s…he’s a complicated man. He’s not one for talking or getting to know people.” You can see Tommy wince slightly at his own words, having a picture already drawn up in his head with how this’ll go.

“I just wanna try one shift with you. To see what he’s like.”

You weren’t someone to say no, conscious that Tommy was already having a hard time getting his brother to ease up to people. You give him a reassuring smile and nod at his request, and happy in yourself that you receive a smile back, his stance now not as tense and face softening at your reply.

Everyone you’d worked with so far had been fine, shifts running in order, so you thought surely he’s not that bad.

To your surprise, it’s worse than bad. It’s just unwelcoming.

The first time Tommy introduced Joel to you he didn’t even bother to shake your hand, small arm outstretched ready to finally meet the man whose name had been on your mind since you’d heard it. The way he’d take a glance at you and just grunt when you told him your name, with that simple look of unimpressed planted across his features. Joel knew he didn’t have to mention his own, certain that he was already known around the people of Jackson. What was even worse than his rude posture and not-so-open welcome was that he had very little vocabulary and a miner attitude in having any sort of conversation, just simply having no interest in others and just wanting to get on with things without distractions.

Even with his not-so-keen introduction, his ways of communicating should take you back, upset you in some way or maybe even annoy you. That’s what you expected from yourself but somehow it did the exact opposite. Yes, he was rude but you knew behind that harsh exterior held someone who’d just been through a lot, done things he knew were wrong but for reasons he knew deep down was right. His eyes held a lot of his true self. They were a dark brown colour but were so soft, eyes you could get lost in if you looked in them for too long. They were so different in comparison to how he showed his persona, how he stood his ground.

So when you’d mentioned to Tommy that you didn’t mind having more shifts with his brother he seemed taken aback. “You sure?” he says, tone high and dubious, “I don’t want you sayin’ that just cause of what is said—”

“Tommy…,“ you console him before he can get you rethinking your decision, giving him a light chuckle. “I’m sure. I’m more than happy to have him around more. Wasn’t as bad as I thought he’d be.”

You can see that Tommy’s grateful, going through certain shift plans with you and letting you know which ones you and Joel will be paired on together.

You can feel the butterflies flutter in your lower stomach, an unknown feeling tickling its way up your spine. Could it be nervousness? Maybe doubt? Or perhaps you’re feeling sceptical about your abilities to change the way Joel perceives you.

Or maybe, just maybe, deep within yourself, that feeling you felt was excitement.

🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃

You and Tommy had agreed on a few shifts a week working with his brother, just to see how you’d both get on with one another. Tommy demanded updates from you every time you got back from patrol and each time, the feedback became more positive; the shifts not being as awkward or dealing with Joel’s quiet moods, his negative attitude.

He starts to become more at ease with your presence. You begin to see more of what you knew he wanted people to see, to understand.

You liked how with each minor conversation you had with him they’d become longer, talking back and forth about everything and anything you could get out of him. His replies back now came from a place of interest, wanting to let out any built-up resentment or just wanting to talk about the little things.

Of course, he was adamant about you in the beginning, but what you began to realise was that Joel was someone who needed time and patience. Time to trust and accept you and others around him. That people weren’t there to be his enemy, they were there to show him that Jackson was good and that he was in a community that would keep him and Ellie safe.

You started to like having him around, warmth building in your chest when you’d look at the patrol board and see his name right next to yours, even when you knew already that you were on shift together. The more he opened himself up to you the more you craved his company. You’d never met anyone like him, so it didn’t seem to shock you that you’d started to see him in a different light.

It hadn’t taken long for your feelings to develop into a minor crush, subtly taking longer glances at him when he wasn’t looking, heart pumping out your chest when you’d make him smile or chuckle at something you said. You were aware that he wasn’t like this with many people, being so open the way he was, and the thought had you blushing.

You’d take time to admire all his frame; his wide shoulders, his broad arms hidden in his thick coat, mind picturing what he’d look like without any fabric covering his physique. Even in the cold weather, his skin was tanned in colour, his hands large and fingers thick. His hair was scattered in salt and pepper strands, with tight curls that rested atop his furry collar. You’d wonder what it’ll be like to run your hands through them, to even tug on them, him wincing at the pull as you cover your lips around his neck and jaw.

His nose framed his face, soft brown eyes and a scattering of wrinkles around his temples and forehead. Fuck he was attractive, and the in-depth staring started to become a continuous reminder that Joel was a man much older than you, which only made you like him that much more.

You struggled to conceal the hidden desire that shivered up your back when he told you his age, “uh…I’m 52. Been doin’ this for a long time… N’too damn long if y’ask me.” You give him a short and sweet reply, too afraid your voice would give you away with how badly it turned you on.

Fuck you definitely shouldn’t be attracted to someone twice your age.

It comes to into full effect when he starts calling you certain names; every once in a while, a darlin’ or sweetheart leaves his carefree lips when he asks you for a favour, or when he initiates a certain change of plan when necessary. The words glided off his southern tongue so smoothly, having to clench your thighs together to ease the ache you felt for him.

He had changed every single aspect of your thoughts. Wondering what he would be like if he’d give himself a chance to feel. To give himself a moment of vulnerability. Was it something that he’d even allow himself to have? To drop his guard down just a little and delve into that part of him that maybe he hadn’t felt in a long time.

🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃

Joel wasn’t someone for getting too close to people.

It had been that way for him for as long as he could remember, and he knew it was selfish, but that’s the way he wanted it.

And it was so easy for Joel, not to feel. To not be someone whose emotions got in the way of everything. To be a person who was closed off and shut down that part of himself that made him feel anything other than his own protection. This meant he’d never get hurt, even if it meant damaging people in the process.

It was until he’d become acquainted with you, he’d question everything he’d set his mind to.

🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃

Joel doesn’t remember the last time he’d felt so intimidated by someone. He was shocked at how quickly it had taken you to become confident around him straight from the get-go. You were keen to show him how knowledgeable you were, how you’d face any problem with intelligence and no trouble. And he hated to admit it, but he liked how ahead of the game you were, how you took everything on with attentiveness.

It had been a long time since Joel had met someone like you.

He’d never let you know this. Joel was too proud and stubborn to admit that you had challenged him first-hand and that you’d started to make him question his ability to be someone who’d work better on their own.

The more shifts the both of you were on together and being within each other’s company, Joel had noticed his shoulders weren’t as tense as they’d usually be. His body became less formal and opened up to your company and the warmth that radiated off of you. He liked how you brought out that side of him that he thought had disappeared. It was even rare that at certain points in the shifts your humour and wit would catch him, small and subtle chuckles escaping deep in his chest.

You had fire and you were headstrong, determined to get him to let go of that rough ego and just be himself around you, which Joel initially though he’d hate, but it didn’t take long for him to privately crave the attention you gave him.

🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃

A few months into patrolling, Tommy had set you and Joel up as official partners.

Your constructive feedback at the end of each shift had Tommy already making the clear decision to pair you both up permanently.

Even noticing himself how well you were getting on with his brother, and how you both thought it would be the best option for him. To stay with someone who he knew he got on with. To Joel’s surprise he didn’t mind, knowing that you worked well together and got on with the job quickly and efficiently.

Throughout the months of getting to know each other, the relationship between you two had developed into something much more than work colleagues and had eventually made its way out of patrol hours. On a whim, you’d asked Joel if he wanted to grab a drink with you after one shift you had together which was rougher than usual. You knew this was a big offer and Joel, as always seemed hesitant, but after a moment of silence, he accepted your invitation. Because fuck he could do with a drink right about now.

This then turned into a routine for the both of you. Meeting for a late night cap after your shifts were over and also in your free time, either having a few at the Tipsy Bison or at each others houses.

🍃🍃 Present Day 🍃🍃

This of course was no different tonight. Patrol running fondly and you both getting back to Jackson much earlier than anticipated.

Once you arrive back at the gates you look up towards Joel. “So…same tonight Joel? Wanna pop by mine and grab a drink if you’re free?” You secretly adored how Joel would react when you’d ask him to come over, still slightly unsure and not used to your kindness and simply wanting to be with him. While he stares down at you in thought, all you can think is please say yes, please say yes, please say yes. And after what feels like minutes have gone by, he gives you a gentle smile, “yeh sure darlin’. Just need to pop by mine n’ I’ll be over.”

You nod at him, grinning at his acceptance until eventually you part ways, rushing back home and hoping he’ll give you enough time to quickly freshen up until he comes round.

🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃

Joel gets to yours in no time at all, making his way up your porch and standing outside your front door. He knocks on your door a couple of times, ready to hear your small footsteps and see your wide smile welcoming him inside your home.

Whilst he continues to stand there, trying to wait patiently, you don’t answer. He waits a few more moments until knocking again and doing so much louder this time, but after another minute of waiting…you still haven’t answered.

He knows this isn’t like you; front door opening the second you hear his hard knocks echoing through the four walls of your front room, barely giving him enough time to prepare himself and ushering him inside with your open body language and sweet voice.

It makes Joel think that you’re somewhat excited that he’s here.

He isn’t worried, that’s what he wants himself to think and he knows he shouldn’t be, trusting you fully with how you carry your independence and welfare. The many times he’s been inside your home you’ve always reassured him that you don’t take longer routes back and that once your shifts are over, you’re making yourself straight home.

But yet why does his chest suddenly feel slightly heavier? Why does his throat feel tight and restricted? You would have got home by now, so why aren’t you here? He’d never doubt you by all means, but right now he needs to know if you’re safe.

So he thinks fuck it, and lets himself inside.

You two had become close enough now that he’d know you wouldn’t mind if he walked into your house on his own accord, especially with the unknown certainty of your wellbeing in his thoughts and it becoming his main concern.

He pulls down the door knob, initially thinking to himself, please be unlocked, and thankfully when it is, he lets himself inside. Firstly he checks the front room and kitchen, which are both encased in darkness, softly being lit by the moonlight sliding through the sheer curtains hanging on your window rods. He lets out a frustrated sigh, you’re nowhere to be seen.

He calls your name, followed by a darlin’, y’here? Again, no answer. Once both rooms are looked over he’s making his way upstairs, his large boots creaking across each step, careful not to trip over himself. He notices that the first door which he suspects is your bedroom is halfway open, the absence of light clouding the room and just the gleam from the landing light outside dimly illuminating the space. He gently opens the door and like the others, the rooms are empty. Once he’s about to make his way back downstairs, you waltz out the bathroom.

You were naked. Towel in both hands and currently drying the ends of your hair, with soft hums of a song vibrating along your sealed lips and eyes closed. Mind oblivious to Joel's now wandering gaze.

Joel couldn’t move, his body frozen and lascivious eyes glancing down at every inch of your bare skin that was visible to him.

Your hair was drenched with droplets of water falling seamlessly onto your shoulders and goosebumps covered the skin of your arms from the abrupt coolness that hit your body once you walked out of the warm and steamed-covered bathroom.

Your breasts were fully in view, the shape of them accentuating your waist and your nipples hard from the cold temperature change.

It was like Joel’s life had instantaneously gone in slow motion, and fuck he was so grateful for it. His eyes mapped out every line and curve of your smooth skin, how the water covered you and cascaded down your body making you glisten in the dim light.

His knees buckle under him when his eyes land in between your legs, his vision getting a subtle glimpse of your sex.

He can feel his cock growing for you, becoming hard and twitching with need. He has no control over it, and he knew if he looked down now there’d be an evident tent expanding in the thickness of his denim jeans.

Your eyes abruptly open when you feel a radiation of heat in front of you, your throat letting out a surprised yelp. Your limbs act quickly, throwing the towel across your bare chest so it covers your upper body and ends just above your knees, swiftly giving yourself some dignity.

It takes a moment for you to contemplate what’s happening in such a quick amount of time, and once you realise it’s Joel who’s stood in front of you, seeing you naked and who’s in such close proximity to you, you jump at the act.

“Fuck Joel!” You squeal in surprise.

Those two words spring Joel into action. Who the fuck does he think he is? He knew he was expected here but never like this. You must think he’s a creep, wandering into your house to catch you so exposed and open, and all for him, just for his own personal pleasure.

He brings his large hands up to his face, palms covering his now reddish features and blocking all images of you out of his mind. His voice gets stuck and his words stutter in his chest, all thoughts fogged and glazed over, hoping anything will come to mind as to what he can do to explain himself.

Your hands clutch your chest tightly, your touch easing the thumping of your heart. “Jesus Christ Joel…,” you chuckle awkwardly, “you scared the shit out of me.”

He looks down at your stairs, body retreating to provide you with some comfort and to insinuate that he’s not trying to make you feel uncomfortable.

“F-fuck darlin’, I—shit, I’m sorry,” the words fall quickly off his lips in hasted rambles, voice attempting to explain why he’s put you in this situation. “Y-you weren’t answering the door I thought—fuck I don’t know what I was thinkin’—I thought somethin’…”

The more he hears the miserable attempt in his tone, he knows there are no words that’ll make this circumstance any better, so he comes up with the next best solution.

“M’gonna go. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

Before you can help relax his nerves, his feet are moving faster than his thoughts, throwing all his weight down each step of your stairs and straight to the door, not even daring to look back, dreading to see that look of shock and how flushed your face had become from his sudden presence. He needed to get out and get out quickly, slamming your front door firmly shut and leaving you in silence.

The loud bang causes your whole body to flinch, shoulders and face wincing inwards from the harsh sound.

You never expected this to be the way it would go. Bluntly coming face to face with the man who’s been lingering on your thoughts right in front of you, him now seeing every part of you, slowly being uncovered by his lengthy stare.

His face was in full shock, eyes wide and mouth fully agape, all of his warm colour being ripped away from his features, but his feelings kept unrecognisable as he eyed your body up and down.

You cannot help but think to yourself; Why did it make you feel so good, seeing him become so shy and flustered in comparison to his hard and demanding nature? Knowing that you were the one who pulled his guard down. Seeing that undisclosed side of him that you’d never get a chance to see.

You begin to wonder what he’d thought. Did he like what he saw? Would he think about you when he’d return home? What could’ve possibly happened if he hadn’t scurried off when he did? The different scenarios cause your heart to race again, a toying smile caressing its way across your face.

But then maybe his reaction was out of pure disbelief, not wanting to present you with the thought that he was giving you the wrong impression. False hope. And that it was just a simple mistake and he’d never want it mentioned again.

You don’t move from your spot on the landing, feet concreted to the ground and mind puzzled, racing with too many questions that you know can’t yet be answered.

So for right now, all you know is that this is going to be something that could possibly change your relationship with Joel, either for the better or for the worse.

And you beg it’s the first option.

🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃

Joel feels humiliated. He feels ashamed. He knows he’ll never be able to come back from this, having possibly ruined the relationship that he knew you had ought to seek out of him for so long. That moment his eyes had finally seen you so intimately he knew his current feelings for you were now out of his control, and that he would never be able to keep his thoughts about you hidden, like he had been doing pretty much since he had got to know you.

It’s become too much for him to bear. What the fuck is he going to do. He’s completely embarrassed of himself and too much of a coward to face you. He needs time away from you, to alleviate the stress he’d put on himself.

So he decides to change his routine altogether so he can avoid you as much as he can. To avoid the crumbling mess that he’s made. But no matter how many times he tries to sidestep the obstacles of that sudden consequence. He sees you everywhere.

Whether it’s in the mornings. Just when you were about to start your shift with whoever it was you were now working with, fuck he wanted it to be him. Or either at the canteen eating your breakfast or through the frosted window of the Tipsy Bison, clutching a drink in hand, with just an empty stool and silence beside you to keep you company.

He feels terrible, fully conscious of your confusion as to why he’s pushing himself away from you, leaving you with numerous questions in the thickened air that now surrounds the two of you, and Joel having no intention of answering them.

It had been a long time since Joel had allowed himself to feel or do anything other than protect himself and others, and he was fucking terrified that out of all the people he had been acquainted with throughout the years that it was you that had these unknown feelings of wishing and wanting someone resurfacing. Even during and before Tess, Joel had never been interested in those sorts of relationships, until now with you.

Joel had lost a lot of people he’d put his care and trust into, and every single time that affliction happened it crushed him down even further than the last.

He thought that maybe if he’d push you away intentionally, he wouldn’t have to deal with losing you all together.

He knew that empty void inside could easily be filled if he allowed himself to relish in the feelings he felt for you, and deep down he wanted nothing more than to show it to you, but his mind and body had been deprived of it for so long he’d simply forgotten how to.

How could he just become so honest and vulnerable in such a short space of time, and with someone he’d only known for a couple of months, even if your relationship had developed quicker than any other he’d had? How can he be with you in such an intimate way and come full face to face with the truth?

Because fuck, it had been way too long since Joel had given another woman pleasure.

He knew it was wrong. The wanting. The craving he felt for you. And you were so much younger than him it made his chest hurt. He knew what people would say if they found out, Joel being involved with a much younger girl. He cared more about what people thought of him than his own and it pushed his feelings down even further.

You had been so soft and sweet and kind to him when all he wanted to do at the start was ignore you altogether. He was so impolite when he barely introduced himself to you, and the fact you had swallowed down the rudeness of his words with a smile, he knew you’d forever change him.

He wanted you so bad, and it felt like a huge weight off his shoulders once he’d finally admitted it to himself. But it wasn’t just your beauty that had him questioning his whole life’s purpose and what he believed he wanted. It was how confident you were, and the way that confidence radiated off you. How you’d persevere when people or life threw obstacles at you. And you were so fucking welcoming to everyone that added to it.

Just seeing you for all you were, so supple and bare and open to his gaze just moments ago was just the last straw for him to cave in and just accept his feelings.

He knows it’s bad but there’s not one ounce of him that feels any regret. The constant pondering of what you’d look like finally coming to light, and it is better than anything that he’d pictured.

🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃

The moment his feet make their way through his front door he’s rushing his body through the house and straight up the stairs, not even bothering to switch on any of the lights or even question if Ellie was home. Once he’s upstairs he takes himself into the bathroom and turns the shower on so cold water runs out of the fossil. His skin feels hot to the touch, burning sweat coating his forehead and clothes suffocating him as he frantically shreds the fabric that clings tightly to him.

He hisses through his teeth, the cold water falling onto his bare back and shoulders, trickling down his body and cooling his heated condition. His breathing is laboured, chest rising and falling in quick bursts while he attempts to calm himself.

He pushes his body forward, eyes meeting the floor and preparing himself for the crisp temperature as the water pours onto his hair, the wet strands dropping in front of his face as he allows his head to fall in defeat.

He’s hard. His cock standing strong in between his thighs and aching. His tip was red in desperation, with that tight coil of pressure rising in his low abdomen.

He shouldn’t. But his minds to overpowered with the need to come he’s pretty sure that if he doesn’t, he might pass out.

A low grunt rattles in his chest when his shaky hand wraps around his shaft, stomach muscles clenching and legs quivering with need.

He can’t take it slow, fucking his hand at a vigorous pace and already feeling his peak creep its way up to the surface. His head hangs back over his shoulders, eyes falling shut and small, deprived moans leaving his lips.

His tip is so sensitive he can feel it everywhere and all over his body, pre-come pooling at his slit and covering his fingers as he uses his other hand to grip the shower wall in front of him.

The moment his vision is blurred and his mind explores all of his demands, all he can see is you. The image of you carefully opening the shower curtain, your body exposed and knees falling onto the shower floor as you take his cock into your mouth, savouring the salty flavour and pushing him to the back of your throat.

He thinks about how you’d look; mouth so small compared to his thick cock and using your hands to wrap what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, wetting every inch of him with your saliva, and swallowing his release down with that sweet smile you curse him with.

He’s going to come, and it’s happening painfully quickly. Your appearance bringing him so so close to his orgasm that it’s like he has no control of his own body, yourself having full dominance over him and you weren’t even there.

He stutters over his words, those exact words he wishes he could really say to you, “fuck darlin’ that’s it. You’re—shit y’gonna m-make me—.”

He inhales in a sharp breath and his body eventually lets go, his cock left without release for too long as his hand continues to tug on his thickness in irregular and faltered motions, pleasure rippling through his whole body like a tidal wave.

His release runs down his fingers and spurts on the tile wall. And there’s so much of it. His cock is pulling so much neglect from him that his other hand has to grab into the shower curtain to hold himself up.

His mind races through the thoughts of how your mouth or cunt would feel in comparison to his hand. The way you’d swallow all of him down your throat, opening your mouth to show him exactly how good you were for him, mouth all empty and tongue licking your lips to taste all of his come. And fuck he knows you’d be so tight; so warm and soft as he’d fill you with all of him, your eyebrows knitting together in slight discomfort from the stretch. He’d know you’d take him so well, begging him to fuck you like he knows you truly deserve.

He freshens himself up and makes his way into bed, hoping that sleep will give him some sort of a stress-free night, and to mostly block out the image of you. Joel feels that regret instantly, knowing too well that he shouldn’t have let his body take over him the way it did.

Joel already knew it was going to be a long night.

🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃

Joel avoids you like the plague.

His way of steering himself away from you has gotten so bad that he’s asked for his patrol shifts to be with other people, and to be cut to shorter hours to avoid you completely. His reasons are that he wants to try again with previous partners, saying that he was harsh with them before and wants to do better. Or he’s too occupied with things at home and with Ellie. You didn’t even hear this from Joel himself, Tommy confessing it to you one morning when your patrol shift was about to start.

Whether it be in the early mornings at the canteen or weekly patrol meetings; he’d be up and off the moment you’re entering the building, chair tucked under the table and the entrance door opening and closing before you can get the chance to scan him out from the crowd. He’d even begun to skip his daily drink at the Tipsy Bison, which he never missed out on. He’d just make his way back as soon as his shifts were over, muttering quiet goodbyes and marching his way down the street and straight home.

His absence makes your heartbreak. Did he think the situation was that bad? Was he that embarrassed by it that he’d made the decision to avoid you forever? It wasn’t you that had made the situation awkward and it didn’t have to be. You thought he’d come up to you by now, but yet still after the two-week mark, you hadn’t spoken one word to one another.

You want to scream till your voice aches, till that hurt in your throat replaces the other pain felt low in your chest. You want to let out that built-up frustration that had begun to boil over, to talk to someone who could easily give you hope about the whole situation.

And that one person who you knew could help, didn’t want to talk to you.

You need answers and you know you have to talk to Joel eventually, even if he didn’t want to. This circumstance can’t go on for much longer and the both of you know it. So if it has to be you to initiate it first. Then so be it.

You don’t know what suddenly gives you that burst of energy and confidence to confront him, but your body’s moving before your mind can even process where it’s going.

🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃

It’s late. But not too late at night so you know Joel will still be up and that you won’t be disrupting him. Once you freshen up after your patrol shift you’re making your way to his house, the walk from your home not being too far from his which you’re thankful for. Your mind attempts to drift elsewhere; analysing other things as you know if you reflect for too long about the possible outcomes, your mind will start to counter multiple reasons as to why this is indefinitely a bad idea.

But then was it such a terrible idea? The both of you were grown adults and people who were now close enough to be able to talk to one another and to have a reasonable conversation.

Without having any opportunity to regret your decision and give yourself more time to back out, you’re standing right in front of his porch, feet walking up the few steps and hand now inches away from knocking on his front door. You take a final deep breath in through your nose and exhale out your mouth, giving a few gentle knocks as you wait for Joel to open.

How long have you been standing here? Would he even answer knowing it was you who was waiting nervously behind the door? Fuck, maybe he was asleep. Yeah, he’s definitely ignoring—

Your ears pick up that sound. Those familiar boots treading across old oak flooring, getting louder and more prominent with each step until finally the door opens and a tall frame stands in the doorway.

Well you think…this is it.

“Hey Joel…” your voice is quiet and just slightly above a whisper, like your throats pushing it straight back down, too anxious to speak as you take all of him in.

He looks tired, his hair fuzzy and sticking up in different directions. Fuck maybe he was sleeping. His beard hasn’t been trimmed, but the stubble brings out the sharpness of his jaw. He’s wearing a checkered flannel, a dark forest green with burgundy red crossed stripes, the fabric buttoned up only halfway showing the bare tanned skin of his chest underneath it. Your eyes drop down to the sight of his chest and quickly rise back up to his face, heart pounding and mind racing with all the thoughts of what you’d rather want to be doing to him at this defining moment.

His face drops when he sees you, and fuck it hurts to see it. His stare wanders around you like he’s lost. You can see that distinct look in his eye, like his mind playing tricks on him, and dumbfounded as to why you were here on his porch so late at night, with that look of distress on your face and in need of answers.

“Uh, hey…”, he runs his hand through his hair. An act he hopes would proceed as confidence, but he’s worried it’s showing every ounce of apprehension running through him, “what are y’doin—“

You beat him before he can finish his sentence. “D’you mind if I come in? I thought we could talk.”

Joel’s said no plenty of times, and it’s such an easy word for him to say. Mostly all of his life he’s been rejecting people and saying that one term more than he could count. But with you, no doesn’t exist in his vocabulary, “yeh—,” he coughs out the strain in his voice, “uh yeh. Sure darlin’.” He moves his frame to the side, “come in.”

You smile at him before making your way past him and into his home. And once you step in, the side of your arm subtly grazes his front, your body trying to abstain from his touch. The hold he has on you and he doesn’t even know it. Feeling him so close for just a second has your mind going dizzy, his body giving off so much warmth that has your cheeks heating up.

You make your way inside so you’re now standing in the middle of his front room. And once you’re inside…it feels weird. You’ve been in his house plenty of times, but in this circumstance, it feels different to you. Like you’re seeing it from another perspective. The whole room feels bigger somehow, the décor and frames covering the old brick feeling somewhat unfamiliar and unrecognisable as you look around, hoping that the walls surrounding you will give you some sort of consolation.

Outside his house you felt confident to a certain degree, preparing yourself to get straight to the point but right now, your mind conjures through all the different scenarios that could possibly happen.

You hear the click of his door shutting, his frame coming into view as he just stands there and watches you watch him. It’s awkward, hardly having talked or even looked at one another for weeks. You try and break the silence. “I hope I didn’t wake you. I thought I’d pop by as I thought you’d still be up.”

His voice is quiet, “no you didn’t wake me. Just didn’t expect to see you that’s all.”

Of course he didn’t expect you, he’s been avoiding you as much as he could for the past couple weeks.

The silence is loud, bouncing off the walls and deafening. You can just about hear the voice in your head as it tells you to leave. It’s saying yes, yes this is a terrible idea and why did you come? He doesn’t want to see you. His feet can only just be picked up over the roaring in your ears as his boots make contact with the floor, his body moving only a few steps in.

He doesn’t look you in the eyes, “So…everythin’ alright?”

He has no reason as to why he’s said it, and he regrets it the second it leaves his lips, already knowing that everything’s not alright. That he’s aware of the suffering he’s put you through. How he’s constantly and intentionally ignored you for as long as he could, how he’s escaped all possible interactions with you.

You give him a blank stare, eyes boring into his faltering stance, “Uh...I don’t know Joel,” you cross both arms over your chest, “why don’t y’ask me.”

You were getting straight to the point, your courage outweighing his without question, something that he’d already anticipated the moment he’d see you again.

But yet, that’s what he loved about you. How you weren’t afraid just to throw yourself into situations that could become awkward, how self-assured you were to confront him about something he knew was out of his depth, and those lingering unknowns with what the consequences would entail.

But this doesn’t stop Joel from becoming flustered by your words, his stare firmly locked down at the floor, voice flat and one tone, “don’t know what y’mean.”

That makes you chuckle, his vague response causing the air in your lungs to contract, annoyance clearly being shown in your pitch, “oh Joel please. You don’t speak to me anymore and apparently have no fucking time for me. You’ve been ignoring me for weeks and to even swap partners and cut your shifts short just because you want to avoid this. To avoid what’s clearly been bothering you.”

He can hear as each word falls from your lips the substantial burden he’s placed on you. And he feels awful for it. He never wanted it to go this way, him leaving you with nothing but his neglect on your side of things and not giving himself the chance to act on what he’s really been feeling.

The look of bewilderment is held strongly on his face, brows furrowed and mouth firmly fixed straight, blocking anything he might want to say. His posture remains restricted, bend forwards to hide himself from his own mistakes.

“I just…,” you let out an exhausted huff, “I don’t know what to do. What’s been going on with you lately? Why won’t you just talk to me. You’ve been so distant with me and I want to know why.”

He’s still stood near the door way. Hands down and glued firmly on his sides. He’s agitated, not having any ounce of preparation for your statement, his body being thrown into hot flames without hesitation.

He shrugs his shoulders, “s’nothing. Don’t wanna talk about it.”

You burst. “Bullshit Joel. I know it’s mostly because you walked in on me that one night. Because if so. I don’t see why it’s such a big deal. It was a simple mistake.”

His voice becomes much louder, and it surprises you. “What do you want me to say? Huh? Yes that’s the reason,” Joel now makes his way into the room, marching over in your direction, “and yes it’s a big fucking deal, okay?”

His statement has you easing, finally noticing that you’re getting somewhere with him. You want him to understand that even though his reaction came out of pure astonishment and humility, he didn’t have to act this way, even if you liked that he saw.

You attempt to calm him, “it doesn’t have to be Joel. Why can’t we just go back to—“

“Because I can’t get the image of you out of my god damn head. The way you looked I can’t…,” he eventually sighs in defeat, “I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s there every time I see you, even when I try n’avoid you you’re still in my head. It’s there when I close my fuckin’ eyes a night.”

You look up at his face, your expression is wide and body shaking with adrenaline. He’s frantically staring at you now, in desperate need for you to say anything as to why he knows this affair between you both is a bad idea.

“Joel—“ you say in condolence.

“I shouldn’t…fuck I shouldn’t. I know it’s bad and I know I shouldn’t be thinkin’ about you like that.” He runs his hands across his face. “It’s wrong darlin’—so wrong.”

It’s all starting to make sense, the missing pieces connecting and creating a full picture. The realisation hits you fill force; the reason as to why he’s been avoiding you, why he’s cutting down his hours and how he’s swapped his shifts around, all because his thoughts about you since that moment you both shared have had him questioning his feelings for you.

And that he liked what he saw.

Now that you’ve recognised his emotions, it strings your own into action. Gently moving yourself closer to him, taking small steps forward and watching for any doubt in his eyes, your words simple and hushed. “Joel. It’s not wrong. It’s okay.”

His shoulders stiffen when he catches how close you’ve gotten to him. He knows if you come close enough, it’ll have him pushing all reasoning out the way. He sees the way your body’s moving so intently, walking so slowly to him, his head already shaking in disagreement.

“I’ve wanted to talk about it…” his eyes visibly bearing the shame he’s felt in himself since he’d slammed your front door shut, “n’ I feel so fuckin’ bad for how I’ve been treating you. I jus’ didn’t know what to say or do to explain myself.”

Joel has your face softening as he tries to explain to you why he’s acted the way he has. Being too ashamed in himself to confront you about his reaction on that night, and how negatively his actions were after it.

You’re still making your way towards him, his words only spurring your movements on with nervous excitement building in your stomach. His eyes are fixated on your face, seeing nothing but acceptance and understanding washed over your facial features. And it makes his palms sweat, “sweetheart I—.”

“Joel just listen to me. If you’d had just talked t’me we wouldn’t be in this situation. We’re both close enough now that we should feel like we can talk to one another. N’whatever you’ve been feeling for me I’ve also been feeling for you. And if I’m being the honest one now, I’ve felt this way about you for a while. Fucking hell Joel if it’s taken us this long to admit it I’m glad you saw me like that.”

He backs away slightly, pulling himself from the magnet that’s forcing you so close to him. The pressure that surrounds him is suffocating, the tension in the room beginning to thicken, “I shouldn’t of— sweetheart it ain’t right. This. I can’t… “

He wants to give in, and he can tell that you can see it in him too, his body language yielding into you too easily. He needs to finally feel something he’s missed out on for so long, and fuck he wants that with you. It’s right here in front of him as your words and gaze initiate it, but now it’s in his grasps, his mind can’t seem to comprehend it.

The two of you are that close now he can feel the heat emitting off your body. But he can also sense that your still sceptical, not moving too close where you’d break the revealing traction that’s growing between the both of you. You look into his eyes, watching him earnestly. “And why not Joel? What’s stopping us from doing what we both know we’ve wanted for so long?”

And the fact is, there’s absolutely nothing. Not one single thing Joel can muster up or give any reason as to why he shouldn’t stop himself from having you, to take you right here and right now.

So he thinks of one pathetic excuse, and his face grimaces. “I’m a lot older than you sweetheart…”

His justification makes the corners of your mouth curve upwards. If only he knew. “You think I care about that? Joel there’s so much more you need to be worrying about these days. We’re living in an apocalypse for fuck sake. Your age has never been a bother for me.” Your eyes fall down to his mouth, “I actually like that you’re older. I like it a lot.”

A haltered exhale flows from his lips. All he can see is the pure want in your eyes, pupils dilated and eyelashes fluttering. He can feel the desire pouring out of you and drenching his skin, affecting him more than he thought it would.

He knows the more you stare at him the way that you are, with that look of just surrender Joel. I want you as much as you want me, he’ll do anything you want, no matter what the price may entail.

You gently place both of your hands onto his firm chest, but not too forcefully, hoping the touch would be just enough to ease him into you. You can feel the beating of his heart hitting the skin of your palms as his chest palpitates wildly. And that’s when you try and relax him, your hands moving up and down to inspect the newly felt part of him. You dig the tip of your fingers into his muscles to help relieve his rigid stance against you.

“Joel—,” his name falls so cautiously from your lips, so indifferent to how you usually say it. As this time it’s said with lust drooling off every letter. This moment has been replayed over and over in your thoughts too many times; how he’d feel so close to you, how his body would tower above you, how he’d gaze at you with need in his eyes, his mouth leaning in close to yours.

Your hands follow further up his chest and onto his shoulders, pulling at the neck of his collar so your hold makes contact with his bare skin, making more of his tanned chest visible to you.

You voice follows up his upper body, “I want this. And I know you do too. So don’t be nervous with me. Let me take care of you Joel...”

You step a little further in, his body as near as it can get and now brushing your front. Your hands stay where they are, your head falling back so you can see his face, your doe eyes peering into his, “please. Let me show you how much I want you.”

He doesn’t say anything, eyes locked on the shape of your lips and arms still placed at his sides. His form however leans into you voluntarily, begging him to just simply give in. His backs curved over, face almost level with yours as he waits patiently for whatever you want to do to him. You pull down on his shoulders just a little more and stand on your tip toes, luring his lips closer to yours.

You give a faint kiss to his mouth, just so subtly and quickly that he doesn’t have the time to react. His moustache tickles your top lip, and the sensation has your mouth quivering. You move your lips to the corner of his mouth, kissing him there once and then kissing his cheekbone, pouring every ounce of appreciation you have for him onto his skin. He breaths heavily against your face, his breathing low and eyes falling shut.

It’s his turn now, and you can slowly feel him returning the affection. With every graze of your mouth on his you can see the affect it has. Your body waits in anticipation, waiting for him to wrap his arms around you tightly, to squeeze and grip as much of you as he can.

You place another light peck on his lips, your mouth now hovering over his, the both of your faces only millimetres away from each other as your voice whispers the honest truth.

“I really need you Joel.”

His body shakes, tongue already salivating just from the slight taste of your lips on his mouth, so sweet as he finally gets a tease of how you feel. His arms that have been secured straight on his sides are reaching out to your safety, his embrace wrapping around your back, holding you close.

His eyes open so faintly, glancing down at where the two of you are lightly attached. And you’re so close. He can smell the freshness of your shampoo, he can feel your hands caressing his muscles, your needy touches igniting that fire inside of him. Your eyes tell him everything; that once hidden stare saying please Joel. Give in. Let me show you what you need.

He needs you, and he wants you to show him exactly what you want to give him. So he mumbles a low and greedy fuck before his mouth pushes strongly towards yours.

Once Joel moves in the rest of the way, you allow him more of your body to touch, arms wrapping round his neck and pulling his mouth down harder onto yours, small fingers threading though the soft curls on the nape of his neck.

When you brush your tongue across his lips he’s easily giving you access, opening his mouth wide as the both of you savour the taste of each other. A satisfied hum leaves your mouth and travels straight into his, your tongues dancing with one another.

His hold on you can’t let go, hands lifting up and grasping hard onto the back of your neck and knotting his fingers in your hair, growling in fervor as he continues to explore the inside of your mouth.

Your body contorts so effortlessly into his, moulding in shape as he bends forward to push himself so boldly into you, your spine curving backwards with the way he’s gripping you.

But you pull him back way too soon for his liking. He pinches your skin and prepares himself when he notices your feet are moving him backwards, his hands clinging onto you in until he feels the back of his knees hit the corner of the couch.

His whole body drops onto the sofa, the touch of your mouth and hands leaving complete numbness on his skin that he misses instantly. He holds onto the cushion and arm rest, knuckles turning white from the clench as he just watches you stand there, bearing down at him, with a gentle smile plastered across your face.

It feels so overwhelming. Seeing him like this. Having known Joel for as long as you have it hadn’t taken you long to uncover that cynical persona he’d put out for himself. Joel was strong. Joel was a man of integrity and leadership, so watching him melt into the palm of your hands has your insides tingling with control.

His eyes are steamed over and his mouths marginally open while he takes all of you in. You lean your body forward as your hands land on his chest, putting most of your weight on him to make yourself comfortable, your knees being placed on the sides of his legs and lowering yourself down on him.

Fuck he knows there’s no going back from here, now that you’re sitting on his lap, sighing in fulfilment when you drop yourself down on his thick thighs.

He knows you can feel his hard on, his cock becoming needful the moment your lips touched his. And he can’t help but feel embarrassed by it, how easy it’s been for you to have him right there, his body quickly responding to your hands on him.

You trace patterns on his arms, fingers following the creases of his flannel and hands moving up to his shoulders. His atmosphere’s hot and heavy underneath you, the trust in his own actions buried beneath him while he looks at all of you in complete awe.

You slot your hips more into him so they’re flushed up and close to his groin. Yep, you can definitely feel his cock now. You moan his name and your voice comes out strong, much more pronounced than he knows his will be. “Fuck Joel. You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted you like this.”

Joel bites back the desperation that pressurises the back of his throat, “christ sweetheart,” his shock is followed by a harsh swallow, “you can’t say that to me’.”

Your words have power over him, and you love it. You lean your lips down to the side of his face, mouth inches away from his ear as his stubble tickles the side of your face, “why not Joel? Don’t you wanna hear how badly I’ve wanted you.”

He doesn’t say anything whilst you continue to spur him on, your kisses travelling down his jaw and neck as his pulse rapidly beats against your mouth. You give a lingering kiss on his sweet spot, finding that place that has him shuddering under you.

He’s quiet. And you feel like you’re back at square one with him, hands not touching you and his words have disappeared. You’re now contemplating your own beliefs, his silence starting to come off as unsureness, mind fixated on too many things at once.

You try and make him feel less tense, “hey…” you brush the strand of hair that’s fallen in front of his face, also lifting his chin up to look you in the eyes, “talk to me Joel.”

Depending on who he’s with, Joel has always been a man of very few words, having never found the time or place to be so talkative or to make general conversation. But the situation you’ve put yourself in with him, silence is the last thing you want him to be.

You want him so much, but you can’t let your pure want overcome the circumstance too much, needing him to express that he’s wanted what’s about to happen as much as you have.

His voice is hesitant, “it’s jus’… y’sure? Y’sure you want to do this with me?”

“Yes,” the answer leaves your mouth in a instant, as it holds so much certainty in it and so much truth, “I’m sure Joel. Since the moment I met you I knew. You’re the only one I wanna do this with.”

This isn’t like him; his easy comebacks, his sarcastic jokes. You wonder where has that Joel gone? Why is he so concerned about you. You’re throwing yourself at him and he’s yet to catch you. It has your mind twisting and turning until…your eyebrows droop in, mind deciphering in understanding.

“It’s been a long time since you’ve been taken care of. Hasn’t it Joel.”

He’s motionless, jaw firmly closed and hands still resting on the sofa, his touch only inches away from your thighs. “Answer me Joel,” you say in solace.

“Yes…,” he chokes out, fuck he’s feels stupid, eyes closing in complete surrender and voice trembling with how easily you’ve read him.

He expects you to laugh at him. To humiliate him. Tell him how can he be so weak with you when all he’s ever known is the hard life that’s been full of danger that lurks around each corner. How can this world that he’s had to adapt to pull such a doubtful response out of him.

But instead, you caress the stubble on his jaw in sympathy, and his head follows suit. You hold his face in the palm of your hands, your voice faint and warm, “poor Joel. It’s been a while since you’ve had someone want you like I do. Give you pleasure like I do. Someone who’s treated you right.”

He needed to hear you say that. Fuck he does want it, he wants to finally be the one who stands back and lets someone take over. And he wants it more than anything to be you to give it to him.

You clock your head to the side, “is that what you need Joel? Need me to show you how good I can make you feel? To show you what you’ve been missing out on?”

He nods his head embarrassingly.

Now you’ve got him. All he needed was time and patience, and your reassurance to get him there. You bring your thumb up and drag it across his bottom lip, your tone dropping an octave, “say it Joel. You don’t need to hide from me. I need to hear y’say it.”

He inhales in through his nose, praying to god that he can summon up the words to tell you exactly what he desires, “please darlin’. I need you—it’s been so long. Fuck I want you.”

You can feel your arousal seeping into your underwear from his pleas, his lack of sexual attention thoroughly soaking the material.

You rub your clothed core onto the tent in his jeans, moaning as his hard cock grazes your throbbing clit. A drawn out mmm fills the space between you, your tone of voice seductive, “good boy Joel.”

His groan pulls deep within his chest, he likes that. He likes how you praise him when he’s done something right, when he’s been good, when he’s done exactly what you wanted him to do.

His reaction has you biting your lip, “you like that don’t you Joel. Y’gonna be good for me? Gonna let me do what I want with you?”

His eyelids are half open. Yes he thinks, yes I’ll be the best for you. You can do absolutely anything you want to me and I’ll let you do it.

His response is clingy “yes. Fuck. Yes I’ll be good f’you.”

You smile at him, giving him a rewarding kiss on the lips. But before he can deepen it you pull back, Joel pouting at the coldness your mouth has left on him. You lower your gaze onto the fully grown bulge in his jeans, “you wanna know what I’ve thought about?”

He’s allowing you to say what you’re about to say without actually telling you to. Excepting that his body’s lost all power, your weight on him making him lightheaded, his mind becoming intoxicated.

“I’ve imagined what these big hands would feel like on my skin,” you articulate, taking ahold and tracing your fingers lightly across his wrists and over his calloused palms, using him however you please. You inspect them, noticing that his fingers are hard in texture, rough to touch but the rest of him is soft.

“I’ve picture your fingers across my cheeks…,” you use his knuckle to sooth your cheek, “and how they’d feel on my lips…,” and then bringing them down to your lips, “how easily they’d cover my breasts.”

You can hear the air falter in his throat, face locked on his hands that you’re using. You allow his hold to drop down your neck and lower to your chest, staying there for just a second until you lead them further up and back to your lips. “I’ve made myself come so many times with how these thick fingers would fill me up. Fuck Joel I know they’d stretch me out real nice.”

Well shit.

Your smirk against his fingers, “you want that don’t you. Want to feel how I’d struggle to just to take your fingers. How I’d come all over them. Preparing myself so it’ll be easier for me to take your cock afterwards.”

Joel feels like he could come just from your words alone. Every single syllable being exactly what he’d pictured in his head. He lets out a weak huff, “christ sweetheart. Fuck let me do that. You can use my fingers. Wanna feel you come on them—please.”

“You’ll have that soon Joel,” you coo, “ just let me have my fun first.”

You remove yourself just as he was about to ask you what you meant, standing back on both feet while he looks above you. His hands fall down onto his sides once again, knees bouncing in anticipation.

You remove your top, inching the fabric above your head and throwing it somewhere on the floor behind you. You give him a lascivious smile before your hands make their way behind you and unclasp your bra, your breast now visible and free from their confines, and to Joel’s wide stare.

Just as he was about to usher you back onto him with his grabby hands you’re unbuttoning your jeans, pulling the denim down your legs and leaving you in just your underwear. You waste no time in hooking your fingers into the thin material and sliding the final piece of clothing off your skin, showing all of yourself once again to Joel.

And it all floods back to him. Like you had never left. Only now it’s more detailed than hurried and rushed as it was weeks before. He remembers how silky your skin looked, how your breast shaped your frame, your nipples hard and perky from the cold air. How your body held this natural glow, and right now it’s beaming from the moonlight casting through his window.

He can see your arousal coat the insides of your thighs, and fuck he’s a goner. He wants to lean forward are spread your wet folds and delve his mouth and tongue into your sweet cunt. He wants to devour you and make you come all over his face, to use him as you ride out your orgasm.

But you do the exact opposite. Instead of settling yourself back onto his clothed thighs you drop yourself onto your knees, reaching both hands out and dragging them up and down his legs, caressing the muscles as you watch his thighs twitch.

You call out his name. “Joel?”

And he stutters back. “Y-yeah?”

Your one hand travels up and cups his thickness making his hips buckle. Fuck he looks big, and he feels big, the rough outline of his cock being shaped by the tight material that hugs him. You lick your lips as your mouth becomes hungry, yearning in need to be filled, “can I suck your cock?”

His head slacks onto the back of the sofa, his cock pulsing and reacting so well to your words, and how they glided so easily off your once so innocent tongue. He looks at you with hooded eyes, “fuck baby…”, he’s pushing his cock up into your hand, giving you the go ahead, “yes please.”

You squeeze his girth, watching his face screw up at your tiny hold on him, “you’re being so polite, aren’t you Joel. Y’doing s’good for me.”

His thighs constrict when you trail your other hand across them, fingers finding their way up his clad jeans and skimming the material.

The suspense is too much, his mind running the image of your pretty mouth wrapped around his cock. He needs it badly, the thought enveloping him to the point where he’s becoming quick with his movements, frenzied hands pulling his belt though the belt loops.

But his motions are put on a standstill when you stop him dead in his tracks.

“Let me Joel. I’m the one who’s looking after you, remember.”

He nods his head, eyes following you whilst you undo the rest of his belt and pull down his zipper. His one hand returns to it’s rightful place on the arm rest and the other is on his thigh, compressing the muscle and clinging on like his own life depends on it.

There’s no way he’s hiding it, and even if he tried there’s no contradicting it. Once his zippers undone all the way, he’s lifting his hips eagerly to help you pull off the denim and relieve that pressure building in his lower stomach.

His erection is resting heavy in his boxers and it makes you mouth water, parts of the material deeper in colour from the pre-come that’s coming out of his tip, painting them in his arousal.

The size of him through his boxers has you gasping. You thought he was big in his jeans, but nothing compares to seeing him right now. “Fuck Joel you’re so hard already. Lift your hips up again for me. Let me see you.”

He’s so willing to comply, raising his lower body and watching as you pull the waistband of his boxers over his cock and down his legs.

His tips red—looking angry and hard as his cock hits his stomach with a smack, his pre-come pooling onto the hairs just under his bellybutton.

You wrap your dainty hand around him, a hiss pulling from Joel’s teeth when you inspect his thickness.

“I knew it,” you confess to yourself, “knew you’d be big Joel.” You tilt your head down and kiss his slit, moaning at the taste, “n’you’re so fucking pretty.”

You get straight to it, lowering your mouth and swirling your wet tongue around the head of him, collecting his release so he covers all of your tastebuds.

A flavoured hum leaves your lips and pulsates and laps around him, finally savouring those thoughts that clouded your mind all day and night. Now never having to wonder how Joel would taste; how he’d feel inside your mouth, what he’d look like above you while you urged him closer to his orgasm.

You look up at him through your lashes, landing continuous licks to his slit, “this okay Joel?” you murmur, like he isn’t already putty in your hands.

“Christ,” he grits, his cock reacting to every single swipe of your tongue, “d-darlin’—.”

“Go on Joel,” you utter, “tell me how badly you want me to suck your cock.”

Fuck you’ll be the death of him, his chest filling with oxygen and voice frail, “yes darlin’ jus’… fuck. Want you to suck my cock please—please I need it.”

You giggle at his eagerness, the sound vibrating all over his cock and causing his hips to buckle up, edging his length deeper into your mouth.

You pull off him just ever so slightly, tutting your lips together, “now stay real still Joel. Don’t move or I’ll stop. Can you do that for me?”

He’s quick to nod his head in full understanding, cock becoming inpatient and weighty and full in your hand.

This was even better than you’d imagine. This little game you has started with Joel. And noticing how much he was liking it had your cunt dripping for him. Joel’s withering above you when you put your lips back on him, his stare lingering on where you’re both connected. He gasps when your mouth swallows all of his tip, mouth back to swirling your tongue around him like he is your favourite flavoured lolly pop.

There’s no going back from this now, and why would he want to after you’ve just given him a taste of letting go. Why the fuck did Joel stop himself from delving into something he’s been without for so long? How had he forgotten what it was like to be given pleasure and praised for it?

And with your perfect mouth wrapped around him, it’s just the reminder he needed.

You slip more of him inside your mouth, each drop of your head reaching down further until he hits the back of your throat. Your gag reflex contracts around his girth causing Joel’s stomach to tighten, using all his will power to stop himself from thrusting up and into your mouth.

Because he remembers your words. Stay real still Joel. Don’t move or I’ll stop.

You alter between bobbing your head and circling your tongue around his swollen tip, the mixture of your saliva and his own pre-come coats his cock and makes him glide so smoothly in and around your mouth, the sounds of your slurping and sucking filling the room.

Joel chokes on his words, “f-fuck sweetheart, your mouth…shit it feels so f-fucking good. C-can I move my hands? Please—jus’ wanna feel ya.”

He’s being so patient, keeping his hands down onto the sofa, and so much that his strength could split the seams of the material. But behind his compliance, there’s a hunger so deep, so guttural. You can feel it in the way his hips weight themselves down, his thighs clinging together.

You lift your mouth, his tip leaving your warmth with a light pop. Your cheeks are flushed red and eyes watering from his cock abusing the back of your throat. You use your hand to slowly pump him, keeping him in a state of pleasure, “y’doing so well Joel, and being so good f’me. Go on, I’ll let you touch me, touch me wherever you like.”

You edge him on, bringing your mouth back down and swallowing all of him once again. Joel pulls his upper body forward, soothing his hands on the dent of your spine and anywhere he can reach without disrupting you and your movements on him.

Joel tries to put all of his focus into his breathing, to give it full attention and try his best to not come so quickly. “Christ darlin’,” Joel mutters, “you’re so perfect. Y’feel so fuckin’ soft.”

Your moan onto his cock, showing him that his touch on your skin is affecting you as much as it is for him. His grip remains on your back and his other hand moves under you and grabs your breasts, pinching your taunt nipple in between his fingers.

And fuck his fingers feel good, continuing to bob your head on his cock and dragging your one hand from his thigh down to cup his balls, gently squeezing them in your palms.

Joel’s eyes widen in surprise at the new sensation, “holy s-shit.”

Joel’s rambling. And he’s not even self-conscious by it. Exposing all confessions and desires to you so voluntarily.

“I touched myself after I saw you,” he acknowledges, “fuck I tried not too but I couldn’t stop myself. I p-pictured you like this. On your knees and taking me like this. Shit you made me come so quick.”

You clench your legs together. Fuck he’s got a dirty mouth when he puts his mind to it. Your eyes are glossy whilst you look up at his wrecked face; his foreheads covered in a sheen of sweat and eyebrows are knitted together to hold off the orgasm that’s about to course through his entire body.

You move your mouth up to his slit, keeping your attention there where you know he’s the most sensitive. You kitten lick his tip, smiling devilishly at his fucked out form, “is that right Joel. Did seeing me like that make you horny? Did seeing me so open like you did make your cock hard?” You tease him and he nods at you.

“You’re a naughty boy. Aren’t you Joel.”

Joel sighs pathetically, his length throbbing in your hand at the way you provoke him, how you push him even further into divulging into his secrets that he once thought he wouldn’t manifest.

You press wet kisses along his base, pecking his cock in endearment and your stare never leaving his face. Your lick a long strip up the side of him and hollow out your cheeks when his tip fills your mouth again.

He’s close. You can see it in his face. The rushed whimpers gliding so evenly off his lips, the shallow rise and fall of his chest. And he knows that you know it too, how pitifully fast you’ve got him to that peak.

“You gonna come Joel?” You ask him enticingly, “you gonna come in my mouth? Like you imagined when you fucked your hand thinking it was me.”

Fuck he wants to. He wants to feel your tongue lick every last drop of him as you swallow his come down your throat, opening your mouth to show him how much you enjoyed it.

He grunts your name, followed by a weakened yes. Yes I’m gonna come. You’ve gotta stop. Baby please stop. Wanna be inside you. Need to feel you.

You chuckle gleefully, and you will stop. But he doesn’t need to know that right now. It’s so fun seeing him struggle. So you continue to lick him and roll his balls in your hand, spurring him on and pulling him just a smidge closer to his high.

He attempts to pull himself away from your mouth, but every time he does you move back onto him. His thighs begin to shake, chest sucking humid air into his lungs to calm his heart rate but also the pulsing in his cock, “fuck darlin’,” he warns you, “oh my—fuck I don’t—y’gonna make me come. S-shit stop.”

And this time you do. Not wanting this to be over before you’ve even started. You eventually pull your mouth off of him, watching how his cock drops onto his lower stomach with a wet slap, glistening and covered in your spit.

You can see how’s Joel’s trying to hold it back, wrapping his own hand around his head to stop the throbbing still being felt across his cock. His tummy clenches and then releases, becoming soft as he fully takes back charge of his breathing.

You wipe the corners of your mouth with the back of your hand, leaning your lips down to press kisses across Joel’s belly, loving how plush he feels against your lips.

“How was that Joel?” You question, “you still okay?”

You’re such a tease, mouth shifting up Joel’s stomach and onto his chest, his arms pulling you up as you go. “M’fine darlin’,” he huffs, hooking his fingers around the back of your neck, “jus’ come ere’. Come sit on my lap.”

Before you do, you help him remove his boots, and then his boxers and jeans that still rested by his ankles while Joel unbuttons his flannel and throws it on the floor with the rest of his clothes. The image of his bare muscular chest has your breath hitching and your pussy pulsing. You rest your weight on his shoulders and put yourself onto his thighs, where this affair had began just moments before.

But only this time, you’re fucking naked and your bare pussy is making a mess on his cock.

“I love these hands…”, you bring one up and play around with it, inspecting them and pushing your thumbs down into his palms to massage the longed strains in them, “they’ve worked so hard,” you caress them, “you’ve work so hard Joel. For too long.”

You rest your own hands on top of his, caging them so they grip the skin on your thighs, “touch me again Joel,” you plea, “I ain’t gonna bite.”

You can feel that his hands have no intention of moving, his hold just squeezing the flesh of your legs, with his eyes showing you his need for your guidance, “or do you need some help.”

He gives you that well known signal. So you begin to move his hands for him, bringing them up and onto your hips and then onto the flesh of your waist. You can feel his pulse quicken again as you show him where you want him. You keep him there for a moment…watching the desperation fall from his lips. You smile at his reaction, loving how even having sucked his cock, and almost having him come down your throat, he’s still so hesitant in the way his hands follow your skin.

You guide his touch up to your breasts, feeling his palms kneading the sensitive skin. He massages your chest so tenderly, each rub of his thumb over your nipples pulling more wetness from your core.

You moan out his name, “fuck Joel,” the words giving him the permission to carry on, “that feels s’good.”

And god you feel so good. “You’re so soft darlin’,” he mutters, “y’feel better than I imagined.”

“You’re so sweet Joel,” you say, cherishing his words, “how many times have you thought about this?”

Fuck he’s thought about this everyday since he’s been given the chance to know you. He tried so hard to avoid the temptation that began pestering his mind when you were together. And even when you weren’t, you still drifted into his thoughts.

“Too many times baby,” he admits, “wanted you like this for so long.”

Joel’s so indulged on your breast. Having finally felt the way they fit so well in the cup of his hands. He kneads them. He pinches them. But his gaze instantly drops when you avert his other hand locked in place on your chest down lower and in between your thighs.

His cock jumps on his stomach, impulsively reacting to where he knows precisely where you want his hand. And mostly his fingers.

He doesn’t have time to behave, already using two of his fingers and gliding them through your folds and that alone has your head rolling back, your pussy clenching hard against the calloused skin of his digits.

He saw how drenched you were, but he becomes bewildered when he gets a feel of your soaked cunt. “Fuckin’ hell sweetheart. Christ you’re s’wet.”

And it’s all because of him; his words, his actions, his cock in your mouth, his lack of control. “It’s all for you Joel,” you softly speak, “you’ve done this. Sucking your cock has made me this wet for you. Want to feel you inside me.”

His fingers are uncertain. They’re Nervous. Each slide of them learning everything about you and changing their motions to see what has you twitching in his lap.

You become restless, the tip of his digits teasing your hole and the hood of your clit, “Joel please,” you babble, “put your fingers inside of me.” So he does. He inserts one finger into your deprived cunt, and fuck you feel warm and soft, his digits being engulfed by the heat and the pressure of your inner walls.

He doesn’t waste any more time in adding a second finger. Slowly pumping and curling them inside to reach that spongy spot that has your grasp strengthening on his shoulders, your features creasing inwards at the slight stretch of him.

You can feel how your walls are trying to accommodate his fingers, your pussy tight and restricted as your try and get used to having him there. “Knew I’d struggle to take you,” you say quietly, breathing out in rhythm to help you adjust, “yes Joel keep going. Yes that’s—fuck that’s it. I want to be ready to take you.”

Christ you were everything. Feeling your stuffed up pussy pour more of your wetness down his knuckle and hand, while Joel uses his thumb to play with your puffy clit, rubbing it in tender figure eights.

“Here’s what it want Joel,” you muster up to say, your body trying to take pleasure over the instructions you’d firmly set in place for him. “Want you to make me come on your fingers first,” you wrap your fingers around him again, giving his cock a slow tug, “and then you can have this pussy on your cock.”

It’s all becoming too much; how fucking filthy your mouth is. How the words flow out so fluently. It overwhelms him, and he’d be an idiot if he’d disobey.

You question him, raising your eyebrows, “you got it Joel?”

His fingers falter to a stop, knowing how vocal you like him to be, and what you’ll do if he isn’t. You need to make sure that he heard you, you need him to say that he fully understands you.

He gulps, his voice weak, “yes sweetheart.”

You sooth the patchy stubble on his jaw, kissing his lips and hovering your mouth over his, “now show me how y’gonna make me come,” you challenge, “fuck me with your fingers Joel.”

That sparks him into action, fingers back into the metrical pace that had your walls fluttering against him, mouth open with needy moans falling from them.

“Oh my god Joel,” you sob, “yes—fuck right there. Keep going.” He connects his lips with yours, again licking and forcing his way into your mouth as you oblige his invitation. He can taste himself as he still lingers faintly on your tongue, but he’s too far gone now to give a shit about that.

His fingers are relentless, hitting your g-spot each time with the tip of his digits, his other hand following suit to play with your messy and swollen clit, a whimper erupting from your throat and flowing into his mouth.

It hadn’t taken Joel much to find those hidden spots to have that knot tightening in your stomach. To have that pressure rising up and overheating. And fuck it had been a long time since Joel had used his hands to pleasure a woman, and he thanks the lord that he hadn’t lost his touch.

Your lips break apart for air, your mouth wet and abused from Joel’s ravenous tongue, with your chest rising and body shaking. “Oh my—,” you choke on your words, “fuck Joel. I’m so close. Y’gonna make me come—don’t stop.”

As if he’d ever stop, how could he ever stop.

His fingers keep up their pace, curling into your velvety walls and flicking your clit with his other hand. His weights ready for your body to tremble and contract as he gives you what you wanted, what he’d always wanted to give you.

“Yes baby please,” he begs you, “give it to me. Show me how pretty you are when you come.”

That’s the last thing you need for the string to snap, that coil in your lower stomach to burst, body falling forward and pussy gushing and throbbing on his fingers, your orgasm pulsing though you and Joel’s one arm already outstretched, ready to catch you.

You cry out his name, Joel Joel Joel, your body now using him for your own pleasure as your hips move on their own terms to prolong that feeling of ecstasy that’s Joel’s flared up inside of you.

“Yesss darlin’ that’s it. Fuck I can feel your pussy hugging my fingers so tightly,” and he can imagine what it’s like when he feels it on his cock. He kisses your collarbone and neck when your head falls back, sucking the skin red and leaving a trace of what’s he’s just given to you, marking you, eyes closing shut with that added gratification of his claim.

He lets you ride it out for as long as he can make it, because you deserve it with how he’s treated you. He slowly pulls out his fingers when his doesn’t feel your walls contracting around him, his two digits shining with your release.

Your body slumps forward and onto his chest, and he’d somehow forgotten how much he missed having you this close. His skins hot, making you limbs shudder. “Oh my god…,” you manage to say, arms wrapping around his neck, “fuck Joel you’re good at that. You’re s’good.”

Your words make him laugh, and god you’ve missed that sound, remember how stern he used to be with you, how it had taken you months to get him to even smile at you. You watch as he grins up at the ceiling, pinching the flesh of your hips.

You lift yourself and shift Joel’s body down lower on the sofa, purchasing his cock so he rests in your folds. You move your hips so his tip nudges at your clit, your pussy lubricating him with your release. Joel grunts at the sensation, with just the rubbing of your cunt on his cock has him rocking his hips under you, drawing him closer to where he needs you.

You shudder above him, and all Joel can do is watch you intensely. Waiting for that exact moment where your pussy engulfs his tip and your thighs start falling. But in his impatient state, it doesn’t come, you just continue to stroke yourself on him. And it’s the sound of your voice that pulls him back to you.

“Is this what you want Joel?” Like you don’t already know. “You want this pussy to ride your cock?”

He ventures out and pulls you flush down onto his hips, but you refuse and hold yourself frozen in place, ushering your hand up and cupping his jaw in a firm grasp, constraining his face to look at you.

“You’re so impatient Joel,” your features teasing him just that little bit more. “Now. I want you to tell me. Tell me exactly what you want.”

He whines deep from the back of his throat, “fuck sweetheart—” His breathings nonexistent, completely knocked out and winded, firm hands biting down hard on your waist, “I need you. Wanna feel you wrapped around me. Wanna make you come on my cock. Fuck I need it—please.”

You lower your pussy until his head is fully shielded inside you, lusting over that new stretch of his cock spreading you out. You take control of your movements, wanting Joel to feel all of you at a restrained pace, to take all of you in.

Joel strives to gain back some of the strength you’ve swept out of him, and fuck you did it so easily, plunging your hips down so your cunt takes more of him, and his thighs pushing upwards to meet you halfway.

Joel’s wrecked under you the moment his cock feels the comfort of your cunt. His face falling into your hot chest, and in an instant, you’re welcoming him as you knot your hands into the back of his curls.

He feels fucking incredible; he’s so hard and thick and even with his fingers before, the pull his cock gives you is such a painful pleasure. It makes your pussy burn, fluttering from that hot sting as his cock reaches heaven and smooths that spot inside you that has you seeing white stars behind your eyelids.

The back of your legs make contact with his thighs, and you’re pining at the fullness, “fuck Joel—oh my god.”

Joel musters up a chant of fuck fuck fuck with every inch of his thickness filling you to the brim. He grits his teeth down hard, pulling in his lip and almost drawing blood, needing to stop himself from becoming too into you too fast as his body flavours your tightened walls around his cock.

You can feel his breath heat the skin on your chest, his tone muffled by his lips kissing the flesh of your breast, “fuck baby—shit you feel…“

You keep your pussy flushed on his lengh, pulling his hair through your fingers making him wince from the tug. He lifts his marks from your chest and brings your mouth down to melt into his, only then to take his touch off of yours and pierce into your eyes.

He wants to tell you that he feels on cloud nine. He wants to say how beautiful he thinks you are, how he’d never be able to go a minute without having you like this, and not only intimately but just to have you so close to him, to have you so near. How you’ve made him question all his past decisions.

So he tells you the honest truth, “…perfect. Christ sweetheart you feel perfect. Like y’made for me.”

You become embarrassed by his words, and rewarding him with a swirl of your hips, testing your body to see if your cunt has yet adjusted to his thickness. His fingers felt incredible but it doesn’t compare to having his cock buried inside you. You can feel how your walls pull him in so well, your slick and a mixture of his own arousal making his cock glide so simply in and out of you.

You pull your hips up with shaky legs, so only half of his cock’s shielded inside you and drop back down slowly, repeating the action until you have to bear yourself, feeble hands being placed on his knees, arching your back as your head faces the ceiling.

He has you everywhere; hands gripping your hips and waist, his contact moving up your ribs to the curve of your breast and neck, touching as much of you as he can.

Your pussy throbs and latches down hard on his cock, Joel’s mind unable to focus on nothing but the squeeze. “Shit baby,” he curses quietly, “y’so fucking tight.”

You look back at him, voice mellow and movements evenly paced, “yeah? Does this pussy feel good? It’s all yours Joel,” you promise him, “fuck it’s all for you.”

Your assurance go straight through his body and down his length, which starts to throb inside you at how true your words are, your confidence emitting straight onto him. He looks at every inch of you, taking his time to fully appreciate what’s in front of him, to admire what’s on top of him; the way your chest lifts and falls with every ragged breath, breast sensitive to his fingers and mouth, the way your whimpers fill the room, your body covered in sweat that makes your skin glisten.

And that’s when he notices a change in your attitude, dropping your guard just a smidge as you continue to move your hips but now at a hurried pace. Your hands are suddenly needy and attentive, your words now imploring, “fuck Joel. I need you—,” you beg him.

“What baby,” he says, his tone low, “tell me. Shit—tell me what you want.”

You need him deeper, you need him harder, fucking all of himself into you until you can’t walk the next day, until the second orgasm he brings out of you has your head dizzy with just the thoughts of him.

“I need…,” you mumble, “Joel I need it harder. Please fuck me. I want it hard.”

Yes he can do that. So he stops your movements, ready to give you what you need. “Okay darlin’. Fuck— yeah okay.”

His stare is firm and direct, and all you can summon is a weakened nod and a pull at his shoulders, beckoning him to swap positions.

You cage your arms around his neck to keep a firm hold of him, whilst Joel puts his one hand down onto the sofa and the other on your back, carefully lifting his weight off his hips and crashing the both of your body’s onto the sofa, his cock remaining nestled in you warm walls.

He sets his one foot onto the floor and the others bent by your side, giving himself that extra leverage and strength while he holds himself up by his palms, his mass adding pressure onto the cushion below.

He soothes, coasting his touch over and pinching all of you, his hands sending bolts of electricity down to your core, your legs wrapping around his lower back to keep him condensed and up close.

Every thrust of his hips has your back lifting off the sofa, his cock continuously hitting that spot inside you, his tip nudging that knot cramping in your stomach and pulling a gasp from your throat.

He looks down and regrets it the moment his eyes stare at where you’re connected. His chokes on his breath and his thrust stall, not trusting another pull of his hips in your cunt knowing too well he could come quickly and shamefully. His pays attention to how his cocks covered in your wetness, saturating his skin and the hair on his pubic region.

You force his head up from where his eyes are frozen, moving his attention to you, “look at me Joel…,” you beckon, “look at me when you fuck me.”

And he listens. Even though he’s the one on top of you, he’s listening to you. He watches you with a desired expression as he observes the pure ecstasy flourishing through your features.

He knows you’re about to come, he can feel it wrapped all around his cock. It’s that same feeling of your cunt fluttering on his fingers just moments ago, when he watched that pleasure take over your body, and when he let you ride it out in slow and steady waves. But only this time, it’s so much more intense. And this time, it lunges his own orgasm forward.

Fuck he needs you to come. Like, right now.

Somehow, it’s like you’ve read his mind, finally jumbling out your words, “f-uck Joel. I’m close. Fuck I’m so so close.”

He’s barely holding on, arms juddering and stomach clenching to keep himself from spilling his release inside of you, needing you to finish before him.

“Give it to me darlin’,” Joel pleads, “that’s it—let me feel ya. Let me feel you come around me.”

His words are what you need to break, you begin to to pulse and convulse around his hard length, arms dragging him down as you breast compress into his sticky chest, weak arms holding onto his shoulder blades.

The feeling of your pussy coming around him has his hips faltering. Joel has no fucking idea how he’s lasted this long, his own legs shaking and his eyebrows furrowing in concentration, “fuck darlin’ I’m gonna—” his forehead connects with yours, “fuck y’gonna make me come.”

Once your high has substantially subsided, and his thrusts have you riding out every flood of pleasure thats washed over you, your mind can take into his words as you place a gentle kiss on his lips. “Please Joel,” landing another kiss onto the side of his mouth, “come Joel—fuck I want it inside. Want you to fill me up.”

Surely he’s not hearing correctly, his ears ringing and heavy heartbeat blocking all noise around him.

His movements become delayed, his voice cracking, “y’sure darlin’?” Fuck let that be what you said, because he’d do anything to come inside you right now. To stay nestled in your cunt for as long as he possibly can. “Is that what you want?”

Your eyes are glazed over, tears threatening to spill down the sides of your face, “yes Joel,” you cry out, “please come in me. Wanna feel it.”

“Christ,” he huffs, his breath hot and heating the already reddish flush on your cheeks, “okay—fuck okay I’ll come inside you baby.”

You intentionally clench your walls around him, digging your heels into his lower back to keep him deep and as close to you as possible. You keep that up until Joel warns you, mumbling your name before a oh shit I’m coming, fuck I’m coming. And with a few more thrusts of his hips they slow down, his high taking possession of his body, his seed filling you up.

“That’s its Joel. Fill me up.” Your words prolonging his orgasm, feeling his warm come coat your walls and his cock twitching with each spurt of his release.

His thrusts come to a hilt, finishing off with one final quick and deep thrust before all of his body weight lands on top of you, chest rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath.

You feel so full of him. The way his body is hefty on top of yours, his mind oblivious to his own weight as he squashes you deep into the sofa. And you wouldn’t want it any other way. Once he has dominance of his own body again and gathers enough energy to, he pulls his softening cock out of your hole with a groan, his release dripping out of you.

He wraps his arms around you, changing the position so you’re now back on top, your head now lying on his chest and your legs becoming tangled together.

You both lie there in silence, the sound of Joel’s heart and his overall warmth across your skin has your eyes feeling heavy. You dig your chin into his peck, giving him a gentle smile, “y’feeling okay Joel?”

“I’m okay darlin’, he soothes, running his hand through your hair, “I’m more than okay.”

He kisses your lips, eyes looking back down at you, his voice coming out small. “Listen darlin’, I never meant to ignore you. It’s just…I haven’t felt this way in a long fuckin’ time and I know there’s nothing I can say to—“

“Joel stop—,” you place your finger on his lips, shushing him before he can say anything further.

“We don’t need to talk about that now,” you say, “that’s all in the past. And all I want you to know is that I understand, and it’s okay. We’re okay.”

He nods at you, grabbing ahold of the blanket that rested on the top of the couch, pulling it over your body to keep the warmth in.

You always know just what to say, your words having his eyes easily falling shut with you all over his mind. He’s spent the last fortnight feeling shitty and regretful, struggling to get any sleep as he thinks about how much he’s hurt you. But right now with you resting on top of him, and with soft snores leaving your lips, he knows he’ll never have to worry about you again.