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#THIS IS TOO GOOD JJDJRJJR
tojisun · 5 months
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the most important dad bod simon thought is when he’s fucking you in doggy and the swell of his gut perfectly slots into the arch if your back, heat and flesh pressing into every inch of your body as he weighs down on you, thrusts brutal and hard. it’s a perfect reminder of his presence— as if the fucking wasn’t hard enough to keep that at the forefront of your mind
jamieeeee my toes are curled!! this is so yummy im actually licking my screen idk hhhnh but absolutely!! (prev)
just. the way he surrounds you – fills you up – until you’re all heady and dizzy because he’s everywhere. overwhelming in the way he pumps his desires in you, waves of euphoric bliss tingling from where you feel him pressed up against you. the ripples of his fat and his muscles mingling with every thrust, reducing you into putty until all you could do is fist the sheets in hopes it can ground you.
the way he bears down his weight on your back while his arms, thick and strong, pull you up, suspending you on his cock. you hiccup a moan, garbling out your pleas, but simon just grunts in your ear, tells you how you’re such a good girl for taking him.
the way he fucks you in full nelson. folds you over before stuffing you up, and you cry at the dizzying pleasure. you don’t know what to focus on: his cock, rhythmic as it thrusts in you, or his arms folding you so expertly, or his stomach slotted against the small of your back, or his lap and how it cushions you amidst his rough pounding?
the way you mewl when simon wraps his hands around your wrists, the startling size difference making you clench around him. he huffs out a confused moan, nuzzling his nose on the back of your shoulder, before catching on your current fixation. he groans, guttural and packed with want, his thumbs rubbing soft touches along the inside of your wrists. “pocket-sized, aren’t cha?”
and the way you know his hold will leave bruises, hand-shaped marks around your wrists, your waist, your hips. or how your skin throbs at the bite marks he left, your neck sticky with simon’s spit but you’re too far gone to think of anything else other than the bubbling elation of knowing how much he’s marked you as his.
dear gods im sweating. i need him so bad
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