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syd-djarin · 6 months

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Sugar, Spice & Please Fuck Me Nice (neighbor!joel AU)

chapter two: sex and candy

*18+ minors DNI*

tags: mentions of anxiety, religious shame/guilt, reader being insecure, mentions of (negative) past sexual experiences and partners, brief mention of alcohol consumption, v fingering, oral (f receiving) joel is a cunnilinguist, 2000’s nostalgia, mentions of the patriarchy (booooo) squirting (sue me), Joel-Land™️™️™️

reader has hair that she fidgets with, "grows warm" /"cheeks burning" but not necessarily blushing, with embarrassment - minor edits to make this more inclusive for my readers <3

word count: ~4.5k

Author/s notes: Sorry it took longer to get ch. 2 out than I anticipated. I've had a lot going on in my personal life (I got a new job!) But I promise it won't be as long for ch. 3 hehe. this is a lengthy chapter, hope y'all enjoy!!

had to name reader's bestie after my dear friend @katiexpunk <3 thanks for always letting me run ideas by you and being a peach in general.

and thank you to @softiedingo for being a beta reader as well <333

It has been two weeks since you introduced yourself to Joel and Sarah. You hate to admit it, but you haven’t been able to stop thinking about Joel. Your mind will stay preoccupied temporarily, then they circle back to him.

Throwing clothes in the washer? Joel.

Boiling water for pasta? Joel.

Doing the dishes? Joel.

In the shower? Yep, definitely Joel.

And this morning is no different.

You’re staring at yourself in your bathroom mirror, brushing your teeth, mind deep into Joel-Land, then your thoughts take a sharp turn - for the worst. You’re thinking about all of your past sexual encounters.

How unsatisfying and selfish your past partners were. You hadn’t been romantically involved with any of your past partners, all of them casual-no-strings-attached type of arrangements.

Even if the sex was casual, did that mean the pleasure had to be one-sided? Of course not.

However, after each encounter you found yourself feeling disappointed, and truthfully, it made you feel…..icky. Was it religious shame? Even though you don’t participate or believe in any religion anymore, your formative years were spent in a conservative, Christian church; where sex is bad, and sin is bad. And you don’t want to be bad, because you will go to hell. You don’t even believe in hell, yet, there is a small voice in your head that still worries about eternal damnation. Jeez, I should really see a therapist about that.

Perhaps it’s the misogyny and sexism, rampant and hard-wired into society and into mind’s since the beginning of time.

Your internal theological and philosophical debate gives you a throbbing headache.

+++

It’s Friday. Halloween falls on a Tuesday this year, so most Halloween celebrations would occur this weekend.

If you were still in college, you’d most likely attend a costume party at a frat party and drink until the sun came up. These days, you don’t recover from hangovers as easily and find the anxiety spiral that follows a night of drinking to be too debilitating so you’re planning on keeping it chill this year.

You’re pouring out a bag of candy into a bowl, so candy is easily accessible for your sweet tooth cravings when you hear a strong, loud cluster of knocks at your front door.

Knock. Knock. Knock-knock.

Shaking off your initial startling from the sudden knocks, you open your front door to find Joel. He’s leaning his shoulder on the doorframe, one half of his body bears all his weight. He swiftly straightens upright again when you greet him. He looks even more handsome from the last time you saw him. He’s wearing dark wash jeans that accentuate his body in the most delectable way and a black t-shirt with a faded MILLER CONSTRUCTION graphic that is just barely legible.

You have the urge to steal the well-worn shirt so you can sleep in it, relish his scent, and let it become a metaphorical embrace of Joel.

Fuck, I really am down bad, you internally scold yourself to come back to the present moment.

“Joel! Ho-how are you?” you manage to creak out through nerves and surprise.

His beautiful, dark brown eyes are staring right into yours. His eyes could compel you to do anything.

“I’m doin’ alright, you?” The word ‘alright’ is drawn out making it sound like “awllll-right”

“Can’t complain. Y’all settling in okay?” tilting your head unconsciously, as if to convey genuinity.

“Oh yeah, ‘s a nice neighborhood. Sarah seems to be enjoyin’ her new school, I was a lil worried she’d have a hard time but she’s a smart kid and gets along with pretty much everyone. Awful silly of me to worry in the first place…” he’s rambling, hands moving at the same pace as his speech.

You find his rambling to be cute, it’s a bit of a juxtaposition from his strong, demanding presence.

Joel realizes he’s nervous after he concludes his tangent. When’s the last time he felt nervous around women? Especially a sweet, non-threatening woman like you?

“Anywho, I came over to uh- ask you somethin’... Sarah liked your cookies so much she wants to learn how to make them herself and was wondering if you’d teach her?”

“I’d love to!” You shoot him a flattered smile, learning that Sarah wanted you to teach her to bake makes your heart sing.

Joel is amazed at you. You agreed to teach a twelve year old, one who you hardly know, to bake. He shouldn’t be surprised given your sweet demeanor and generous heart, but he’s in awe of you.

“You sure? I mean, you obviously don’t have to if you don’t want—”

“Joel, I’d be honored to. Send her over in an hour,” you cut him off, hoping to convey your delight in teaching someone else to bake, the same way your grandma did for you.

Joel can’t stop the shit-eating grin that appears on his face.

“Sounds good. I’ll send her your way, sweetheart,” he lingers just for a moment to watch your reaction to the nickname, the one he’s used twice.

You desperately try to keep your composure cool and collected, but you’ve never had a good poker face. You wear your emotions like an accessory. And right now, you are flustered. You divert your attention to the ground as if looking into his eyes would expose your every thought.

“O-okay!” You can barely stammer out a response before he is pivoting off your porch, back to his own house.

You can’t see it with his back turned to you, but Joel is smirking to himself and feeling amused at his effect on you.

+++

“You sure you don’t want me to go with you?”

“Yes, dad. I don’t need a chaperone to bake cookies. I’m a big girl now, remember?”

Yes, he is acutely aware that she is a big girl now. Well, not really, to him she will always be his baby girl, but that doesn’t stop her from growing up. Too fast for his liking. The idea of her becoming a teenager almost gives him a coronary. It won’t be long before she’s driving, then graduating, and college. What if she wants to attend a school in another state? Across the country?

He feels queasy at that thought, afraid that she will grow out of thinking her dad is the coolest, afraid that she doesn’t want to spend time with her old man anymore.

He wills himself to think about something else. Anything else. Inevitably his thoughts wander to you.

Joel hates to admit it, but he was hoping to join Sarah for the baking lesson. He wants an excuse to be in your radiant, sweet, beautiful presence again.

While you can’t stop thinking about him, he can’t stop thinking about you.

Driving home from work? You.

Making dinner? You.

Making his morning coffee? You.

Laying in bed? Oh, yeah. Definitely you.

Exactly one hour passes when Sarah arrives at your house. You’ve already set up in your kitchen in preparation; already pre-measured the ingredients, setting out all the necessary baking equipment and you even found a spare apron for Sarah to wear. Ya know, to give her the full experience.

“Oooh, this apron makes me feel like a professional!” Sarah exclaims after tying the strings on her designated apron.

“Well, after this, you will be.”

You can’t remember the last time you felt this much joy. Sharing a passion of yours with someone who is eager to learn from you delights your heart and soul in a way you didn’t know you needed until now.

“So first, we’ll need to combine the butter and sugar,” Sarah dumps the butter and sugar into the mixing bowl. “Great, now we want to beat the mixture until it looks fluffy.”

She is completely engrossed in watching for the desired texture, furrowing her brows together in a way that mimics Joel. You find it adorable.

“Excellent, now we are going to add in the eggs and vanilla extract.”

She follows your instructions to a T, meticulous and concentrated as if she were mixing hazardous chemicals in a lab.

“You’re doing great. Now let’s add our dry ingredients, half of it at a time.”

Her eyes light up when it’s time to fold in the chocolate chips. You both agree it’s the best part, both of you indulging in a few before adding them to the dough.

You assist Sarah in rolling the dough into little balls and placing them onto the baking sheet.

While waiting for the cookies to bake, you learn more about Sarah and Joel. She tells you about their old house, the camping trip they went on this past summer, the catchy pop songs on the radio that Joel will pretend to hate but she catches him humming the tune later, how Joel makes a big breakfast for the two of them every Sunday, a ritual they started when Sarah started school - he makes pancakes just for her.

Getting a snapshot of Joel and Sarah’s lives and their dynamic makes your mega crush on Joel that much bigger. From what Sarah has shared with you, he seems like a caring, protective yet fun dad. You’re aching to learn everything about him.

“Do you have any plans for Halloween?” Sarah asks as you’re pulling the baking sheet out of the oven.

“Oh um, I usually just hand out candy to trick-or-treaters. Nothing super exciting. What about you?”

“We always order pizza and watch a scary movie - nothing super scary though. We dress up too. Well, I dress up but dad thinks he is too cool to do that so he wears the same boring mask every year,” she has a mischievous grin on her face, concocting a plan when she asks, “do you want to come over and join us?”

On one hand you’d love nothing more than to spend more time with your new friend and Joel, but on the other hand the thought of being in the same room as Joel, in his house, makes you both anxious and aroused. Dizzy, nervous, and horny makes for an unpleasant combination.

Gaining a sliver of bravery, you swallow your apprehension and say yes.

“Sure, yeah, what time should I come over?”

“6:30. And you better wear a costume!”

+++

You’ve spent the past hour trying to put a costume together. Not making any progress, you decide to seek external advice - your best friend Katie.

You both met as freshman and have been close friends ever since, even rooming together in your first off-campus apartment. She moved to the West Coast shortly after graduation, though you still keep in touch via email and phone. You give her the scoop on Joel - him moving into the neighborhood, your gigantic crush on him, how you baked cookies with Sarah yesterday. She’s impatiently waiting for you to bone your hot neighbor. Girl, I’m waiting too.

“Do you still have that bunny costume you wore junior year?”

You rummage through your tote of seasonal clothing in search of said costume. Pulling it out, you now realize just how skimpy the costume really is. Bunny ears and a tail paired with a skin tight black bodysuit leaves virtually nothing to the imagination and definitely too much skin for this occasion.

“Dude, I can’t wear this! His daughter will be there! I can’t believe I wore this out in public. This is X-Rated,” you’re growing agitated in having no success in your costume, to the point that you are tempted to tell Sarah you came down with something so you don’t have to go.

“Okay, okay, the ears and tail are still salvageable. Do you have something besides the bodysuit?”

“Ummm…” you trail off into the phone, frantically searching for something to replace the risque bodysuit. You find a plain white baby tee amongst the sea of clothing, deciding you can pair it with your favorite jeans, the ones that accentuate your body in all the right places.

“This could work..” muttering to yourself when a devious thought pops into your head. White shirt, no bra.

“Found it! Gotta go, loveyoubye!” You hang up the call before Katie has a chance to respond, tossing your pink Razr on your bed. Your body hums in anticipation and jitters, feeling emboldened by your no bra plot.

After throwing on your outfit, you style your hair differently than you normally do. You add several coats of mascara to your lashes, sweep on some blush that complements your skin and add a sparkly lip gloss to your lips, making them appear extra plump and juicy.

You grab a bag of Halloween candy and you practically skip across the street. Reaching the front door of your new bestie and her gorgeous dad, your confidence is replaced with a furious ball of anxiety. Your heart is palpitating and you feel your stomach churn.

Would Joel think you looked stupid? Or worse, childish? Fuck, you should’ve stayed home.

Joel opening the door snaps you out of your thought spiral but only briefly, because he’s staring at you like you’ve started growing extra limbs. He looks both puzzled and pissed?

“What uh-what’re you doing here?”

His voice has a sharpness you haven’t heard before and it stings.

You have a moment of realization.

Sarah didn’t run the invitation by her dad.

You deduct that he isn’t a fan of surprises.

Before you can formulate a response, Sarah saves you from having to do so.

“You dressed up! I’m glad you came,” she squeals while wrapping her arms around your middle in an embrace.

She looks up at Joel from where she’s latched onto you and gives her confused dad an explanation.

“Dad, it’s okay, I invited her.”

That seems to alleviate his confusion. You, on the other hand, not so much. You’re internally screaming at yourself. It’s obvious to you that Joel wasn’t expecting you, and in conclusion, doesn’t want you here.

“I didn’t mean to impose, I—I’m sorry, I’ll uh— just go back home,” fighting back tears of embarrassment, looking everywhere except at Joel. You think now is a superb time to move across the country, change your name, dye your hair, somewhere far away from this humiliation.

Joel senses you’re feeling rejected in some way.

“No, no, come on in. Jus’ wasn’t expectin’ you s’all,” he gives you his most reassuring smile.

You swallow the lump of emotions in your throat.

He didn’t expect you to come over, nor did he expect you’d show up as his personal version of a Playboy bunny. He almost busted in his jeans when he could see your nipples through your very thin white t-shirt. He thinks you’re trying to kill him.

+++

You’re starting to relax once you three settle on the couch, Sarah nestling between you and Joel, Alien on the TV. Turns out, you and Joel share a love for the film. You may or may not have gotten into a heated (playful) debate about the other films in the franchise.

Joel gets an influx of trick-or-treaters, more than you usually get, residents of the neighborhood taking advantage of this opportunity to be nosy. Again.

In between costume clad visitors, you sneak glances at Joel, who looks absolutely scrumptious tonight. His hair had been damp and combed back when you arrived, his curls now almost dry and in all their glory. He’s wearing an obviously well-loved, faded Pearl Jam concert tee that clings to his arms and grey sweatpants that sit dangerously low on his hips. You wonder if all his shirts fit like that. When he stands, you can see the outline of his dick through his sweatpants. You have to manually restrain yourself from pouncing on him. You’re soaking through your panties and you’re a little worried that if you stand, the seat beneath you will be soaked too.

The scent of his body wash invades your nostrils, a heavenly mix of sandalwood and cinnamon. You’re imagining yourself running your hands through his hair and burying your nose into his neck, alternating between kissing and sucking on the skin there. You want to taste every inch of his skin, taking your time to savor him.

Joel’s stealing glances at you, too. He’s never seen someone look so sweet and seductive, divine even. You smell warm and sweet, amber and vanilla. Not the artificial, manufactured type vanilla scent, it’s like vanilla straight from the bean. When you readjust your position on the couch to get more comfortable, your tits lightly bounce, unrestrained by a bra. He has to stifle a groan, disguising it as a cough. He wonders how much they’d bounce if you were riding his cock. Your lips are absolutely sinful. Pouty and plump, juicy from the lip gloss. The bunny ears are the nail in his coffin. He’s picturing you bent over on his couch, still wearing the bunny ears as he devours your pussy from behind.

Only a quarter of the way through the movie, a few of Sarah’s friends from her old school pop in to invite her over for an impromptu sleepover to which Joel agrees to, since they no longer go to school together.

Which means you and Joel are left alone. Together. Your body is aching to close space between you and the man you’re enamored with. You don’t know that Joel is itching to do the same.

“Sarah couldn’t stop talkin’ bout yesterday. She loved hangin’ out with ya, thanks again for doin’ that.”

“She’s welcome to come over anytime. She’s a sweet kid,” you’re beaming at the fact she enjoyed baking with you. Joel notices the way your eyes gleam, overflowing with delight.

You finally have the courage to meet his eyes. The way his eyes are raking over your entire body makes your clit throb in anticipation. Your heartbeat is erratic, thumping loudly in your ears.

The energy in the room is magnetic, pulling you and Joel closer together.

“You can uh-scoot closer t’me if ya want,” he gruffs out, beckoning you to scoot closer to him. Joel wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but you make him feel like a flustered teenage boy about to kiss a girl for the first time.

You scoot closer to Joel, hoping he doesn’t notice your body trembling from nerves.

With your body flush next to his, he stretches one of his toned arms behind your head, resting it on the back of the couch. You can feel the warmth radiating from his body and it sends a shiver down your spine, straight to your aching core.

The tension in the air is palpable, both of your bodies buzzing in arousal. You’re both pretending to watch the movie in front of you, but your minds are elsewhere. He gently removes his arm from the couch and rests it across your shoulders. It’s a seemingly innocuous gesture, but its impact makes you clench around nothing, more arousal dripping into your panties.

He leans his head down close to yours, his mouth behind your ear.

“No bra? You’re a naughty lil bunny aren’t ya?” His hot breath tickles your ear, your eyes clamp shut involuntarily and you whimper. A high-pitched, whiny whimper, and Joel’s never heard anything sweeter.

He places his other large palm on your thigh, gently squeezing it. Your skin prickling in goosebumps and your nipples are hard enough to cut glass. The wetness pooled in your panties is beyond the point of comfort.

Joel presses a chaste kiss behind your ear, eliciting another whimper from you. He peppers kisses from your neck all the way to your collarbones.

“This okay?”

“Mhmmm…” You’re already so keyed up you feel hazy. Your whole body feels hot, lit aflame by Joel’s lips on your skin.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” he rasps while his hand is caressing your thigh, intentionally not too close to where you want him. Need him.

“Mhmmm,” you moan, still unable to form words, arousal taking over all of your bodily functions.

“Need you to use your words, honey.” He squeezes your thigh again.

He pulls his face back from your neck to look you in the eyes, and slows his movements on your thigh so you can tell him to back off or give him the green light to continue. You grab his hand on your thigh and squeeze it, to keep him from removing it.

“Joel, pleeease. Want it so bad. Need you so fuckin’ bad.”

You beg in the most sultry voice you can muster, emphasizing every syllable.

Your lust laden eyes and the way you mewl for him ignites something ravenous, primal, carnal in him. He hasn’t heard you cuss before and it sounds so filthy in your honeyed voice. His rock hard cock twitches in his pants.

He presses his plush lips against yours. It’s hesitant at first, but his apprehension dissipates when you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back with fervor. Joel deepens the kiss, one hand gripping your hip, the other hand splayed between your shoulder blades, pressing your body further into his. You tangle one of your hands in his luscious curls. He tastes like sweet peppermint and a hint of black coffee. You feel dizzy, tasting him, finally feeling him.

He breaks the kiss, guiding you to lie down on your back and props your head up on one of the couch armrests.

He’s looking down at you and he’s never seen anything more beautiful. You’re always pretty, effortlessly so. But seeing you underneath him, sweet and desperate for him? He’d do anything you ask him to.

“You’re the prettiest lil bunny. So fuckin’ pretty.”

You’re bashful under his gaze and his compliment, cheeks burning.

Joel notices you trying to shy away and he places a thumb under your chin, forcing you to keep looking at him.

Now you feel embarrassed for trying to shy away in the first place.

“Sorry I’m—”

“Nothing to ‘pologize for, sweetheart,” he’s caressing your chin with his thumb, alleviating all of the embarrassment from you.

“Wanna taste you. You’ve no idea how bad I’ve wanted to taste you. Needed to know if you were as sweet as your cookies.”

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe out, “yes - yes please, taste me, Joel”

He chuckles softly at your enthusiasm and promptly rids you of your jeans, making the leather of the couch feel cool to the back of your thighs.

Joel lets out a guttural moan when he sees your sky blue satin panties soaked through. He runs a finger over the damp spot, making you quiver. His touch is featherlight and it’s maddening. You’re squirming, hips lifting off the couch, chasing for more.

He obliges, running a finger over your clit with added pressure.

“Joel, please–” You’re a whiny mess under him, and he’s just getting started. He’s rubbing gentle circles over your bud, still-panty clad.

He presses a kiss on your belly, just below your navel. The tenderness makes your body shudder.

He finally removes your panties and you gasp when the cool air hits your throbbing pussy.

“Pretty girl with a pretty pussy to match.” Joel’s admiring the way your pussy is glistening for him, begging to be touched.

He runs a finger through your drenched seam, your juices dripping onto his thick digit. He licks his finger, then shoves it into his mouth so he can taste every drop. His eyes clamp shut, groaning at how you taste. You commit the image to memory, not wanting to forget how he looks and sounds when he tastes you for the first time.

“Knew you’d taste sweet. So fuckin’ sweet.”

Your brain short circuits when you realize that means he’s thought about this before. That he’s imagined how you’d taste. Picturing him fantasizing about you makes you light-headed.

Joel spreads your legs wider, giving him full access to your pussy. He dives in without warning, licking from entrance up to your clit.

“Fuck, Joel!” You hoarsely shout with one hand gripping the couch cushion and one tugging onto Joel’s messy curls. His beard scratches the sensitive skin of your pussy as you grind your hips into his mouth, desperate for release.

You see stars while he expertly alternates between flicking his tongue and sucking on your clit. He’s keeping a steady rhythm, on the slower side, taking his time pleasuring you. He’s enjoying this.

Obscene sounds fill the room; Joel devouring your pussy like it’s the Last Supper and your chorus of moans and expletives.

“Fuck, don’t stop, don’t you fucking stop!”

“Shitshitshit–”

“Joelllll-”

He picks up the pace, your fingers cramping from their deathgrip on the couch. You feel your peak approaching - sweat beading on your forehead, chest heaving, head thrown back in ecstasy.

Joel senses your approaching release and pushes one of his thick, dexterous fingers into your weeping hole.

He reaches for your hand that’s tangled in his hair and intertwines your fingers with his, resting your connected hands on your inner thigh. It’s overwhelming; the intimacy of your interlocked fingers paired with the filthy onslaught of his mouth.

He speeds up as he adds another finger, hitting the spot that no one except you has reached before. You never knew it could feel this amazing. You thought you were doomed to a life of bad sex.

Apparently, you just needed Joel to show you differently. And you are so glad he proved you wrong.

Joel hooks his fingers inside you bringing you closer and closer to that peak you’ve been dying to reach. You’re squeezing his fingers, both the ones inside you and the ones interlaced with yours.

“Joel I-I’m close,” you manage to choke out, mind foggy from the intense pleasure.

He sucks on your clit, hard and you’re coming, entering a euphoric plane of existence. You’re floating, body trembling, coming harder than you’ve ever come before.

Joel slows his fingers and removes his mouth from your pussy, beard glistening with your release, gently bringing you back to reality. He keeps your fingers locked with his, grounding you in the present.

The orgasmic fog clears from your brain, regaining awareness of your surroundings when you feel how drenched your lower half is. Like, really drenched. You lift your head from the armrest and look down and you’re appalled by the scene.

You fucking squirted. Everywhere.

On yourself, on the couch, on Joel. His beard is soaked completely, to the point it’s dripping down his chin. He’s just as stunned as you are.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, fuck I-” you’re scrambling to get off the couch and Joel grabs your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

“What’re you sorry for? That was so fuckin’ hot, sweetheart.”

“I-I didn’t know I could do that…”

“Oh yeah? First time ever squirtin’?

“Yeah, the first time anyone else has made me come… like, ever.”

His gaze goes dark.

You get the feeling that he’s just getting started with you.

And just like your cookies, he’d never have enough.

THE END

#joel miller #joel fic #joel x f!reader #fanfic #first fanfic #joel miller is babygirl #joel miller smut

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syd-djarin · 5 months

Text

Leftovers (joel miller x f!reader)

a @katiexpunk & @sydneyinacoma oneshot collab

Summary: You’ve waited for what feels like forever to hear Joel say he’ll give you what you want, and what better day to be grateful you’re both now on the same page than Thanksgiving. Joel shows you just how thankful he is for you by giving you loads of his cum. Yep, that’s the fic.

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Word count: ~2.6K

Warnings: BREEDING KINK GALORE (if this isn’t your cup of tea, kindly move along), come play, rough sex, established relationship, thanksgiving, gentle sex, rough sex, creampie, kitchen sex, finger fucking, pet names, use of DADDY, use of MAMA, feral!joel, somnophilia, inappropriate use of kitchen island, spanking

Authors Note: what started as a brilliant idea from Katie, turned into a breeding extravaganza by these 2 slutty smutty sisters. Happy Thanksgiving ;)

~honored to get to collab w the amazing @katiexpunk again for some depraved fantasies. she is a true gift to this world & i'm proud to call her a friend. ily a milli bby. <33333

Joel finger fucking his cum back into you under the dinner table wasn’t quite what you had planned for the evening.

But it’s Thanksgiving, and you’re grateful.

___

In the warm glow of the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the kitchen window, you stand in the kitchen, in total Thanksgiving mode. This is the first year that you and Joel are hosting at your house and you couldn’t be happier.

The dining room table is set for twelve, a symphony of warmth and welcome. It’s decked out with gleaming plates, polished silverware, and a giant cornucopia centerpiece that Maria and Tommy had dropped by earlier in the morning.

In the kitchen, the turkey is roasting, the pies are resting, and the whole place smells amazing. Your apron's on, tied snuggling around your waist, and you're juggling pots, pans, and veggies like it’s nothing.

As you're meticulously arranging a platter of hors d'oeuvres, the floorboards creak as Joel approaches. You’re too deep into hostess mode to notice his presence.

Joel leans casually against the kitchen doorframe, a silhouette of quiet appreciation as he watches you move with purpose around the kitchen. His broad shoulders rest against the wood with his arms crossed, while his gaze, softened by admiration, follows you. The longer he watches you, the hungrier he gets.

He takes a step into the kitchen and your eyes lock with his. Your face erupts in a warm smile as you drink him in; fresh from the shower, his hair damp and combed neatly back. His scent invades your senses, over the plethora of smells circulating throughout the kitchen. It’s warm and earthy and brings a sense of comfort, of home, of Joel.

He takes a few short steps forward through the kitchen to be closer to you. “Wow,” he breathes, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “I can’t believe all of this is in our kitchen. You’ve really outdone yourself, sweetheart.”

You move to close the gap between your bodies, and stand to face him. You raise your hand to his chest, feeling the warmth he exudes and the fabric of his white t-shirt and flannel under your palm. Him in a flannel always makes you weak in the knees, but today it’s an all-consuming feeling.

You glance up at him, a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction etched on your face. “Well, you know how I am when it comes to Thanksgiving, I just want everything to be perf–” . Before you can finish your sentence, Joel’s lips are crashing into yours. It’s soft, and you relish in the taste of it.

Joel’s kisses become more needy, gluttonous even. Try as he might, he can never get enough of you. He’s fusing your body to his, one hand clutching your hip and the other cradling the nape of your neck.

“You look so pretty like this, sweetheart. You’ve been workin’ so hard – why don’t you take a break, hmm?” he whispers in your ear, nipping at the soft flesh of your lobe. “Come take a break on my cock.”

“Joel, we can’t – everyone is going to be here in like 30 minutes, there’s still so much to do,” you try to reason, but your body isn’t listening, and neither is he.

“Don’t care, make ‘em wait. Need you. Now,” growling in your ear.

“Plus, if my calculations are correct, I know you’re ovulating, and I bet your body is craving my cum, isn’t it, baby?” he says, grabbing you by your hips and walking you back to the kitchen island until the cool marble hits your lower back and he has you pinned.

You and Joel have discussed kids, but briefly. You were ready now, but he wanted to wait.

“Let me breed your tight little pussy, baby. Wanna have my cum overflowing deep inside of you, wanna fuck it into you so deep it’ll stay there all night,” he says, reaching his hand up your dress.

“Joel, now? I know we’ve discussed having kids, but you said you wanted to ah,” – your ability to form words gets broken as he slips his thick finger through the side of your underwear and cards it through your slick folds. “You said you wanted to wait,” you conclude, your breath a little ragged.

“Waited long enough haven’t we? Wanna give you what you want, sweetheart,” ghosting a fingertip over your clit. “Plus I can’t wait to see your pretty little tits engorged and your belly full of my baby,” he says.

His words stir heat low in your belly, they’re what you’ve been waiting for him to say for so long. You’re practically dripping at the thought of him as a father, how good he’ll be to both of you.

His intent is to fuck you, to ravage you with no protection or pills, to intertwine your lives together forever. His cock all but tells you as much. You reach your hand out to cup the thick shape of him through his denim jeans, feeling his engorgement and so desperately wanting to have him inside of you.

“Please, daddy,” begging him to fill you up, somehow already knowing that ‘daddy’ will spur him on.

“Already calling me daddy now, huh baby?” Joel says, “I’ll show you daddy,” he adds, assisting you in helping him unbuckle his belt and jeans, growing impatient, wanting to be buried deep inside of you. As he drags his jeans and underwear down, you’re also impatient, and shimmy your underwear down to your knees and hike your dress over your hips, giving Joel unrestricted access to your needy cunt.

Joel grabs you by your waist and pulls you into him in a passionate kiss before flipping you around and pushing you down onto the kitchen island, chest first so that you’re eye-level with one of the Apple Pies you made earlier that morning. You’re grateful for the clothing covering you there as the countertop is cool, but your nipples still peak in response to the sensation.

Normally he’d take this slow, work you up to it, make you come once or twice before even attempting to fuck you, but right now he doesn’t care, nor does he have the time. Joel Miller has one goal, and one goal only right now. Joel, normally a bit of tease, skips straight to the part where he’s fucking you.

He lets out a moan at the sight of your ass bent over, pussy drooling, pressed up against his hips. Unable to resist, he swats your ass, enjoying the way your cheek bounces on impact.

Your wet and aching hole is just begging to be filled with him. He grabs his heavy cock by the base and spits down onto it before bringing his hand to stroke the length of it a few times, lubricated by his own saliva and the pre-cum that collects as he thumbs over his weeping tip.

He taps your ass with the mushroom head of his cock and grabs your buttcheek with his free hand, spreading you open to him. You’re growing impatient and whine out another plea, “please, daddy, please fuck me.” It’s pathetic and desperate but you don’t care.

Instead of a verbal reply, he responds by slamming his cock into you, causing you to jolt forward.

He only gives you a few moments to breathe before he’s driving into you at a dizzying pace. Should any of your guests arrive early, they’re in for a scene straight out of Skinemax.

“Fuck, baby. Who are you gonna let breed this tight little pussy, hmm?” Joel hisses through his thrusts.

“Only you, Daddy. Only you. P-please, fill my pussy up,” you purr.

“That’s right. Daddy’s gonna knock his girl’s tight little cunt up good, fill you full o’me. Gonna fuck you until you can’t see straight,” he says.

“Gonna make you a mama,” he adds for good measure, his breath a little ragged from the relentless pace he’s setting, hammering in and out of you, “gonna be such a pretty mama, baby.” The sound of his balls clapping against you is drowned out by your moans.

“Joel, shit – ah, I’m gonna come, feels so good,” you say, your cheek flat against the countertop. His cock is so big and perfect, you’re practically helpless. No more than a woman without a lifevest, drowning in the sea of your impending orgasm.

“That’s good, sweetheart – it will open your cervix up to me, my seed,” he responds, his jaw goes tense and he’s also not far off from his own release. He begins to set a rough, relentless tempo and begins to thrust into you deeper and harder, causing your walls to clench around him tighter.

Your legs begin to shake, and the buzz of arousal pulses through you. The tip of him hits the soft, spongy spot inside of you that drives you crazy, and with a few more drags of his veiny cock, you’re gone.

“Fuck, daddy! Yes,yes,yesss—” You come with a hoarse shout, body writhing underneath him.

His cock is covered in your sweet release, your milky juices covering his rod put Joel in a tantric, animalistic state as he nears his own orgasm. You’re still shaking under him, your legs begin to wobble and he holds both of your hips as he slams himself into you balls deep. You’re hanging onto his forearm behind you, needing solace from the intense onslaught.

The strength of his grip leaves bruises on your hips as he gives you one final, intentional thrust, and pauses with the tip of him right up against your cervix and your walls milk him for all he’s worth as he curses your name under his breath.

You can feel the subtle pulses of his cock as he stays stuffed inside of you to the hilt, holding his cum where he wants it to go the most. You both stay there, heaving and fucked out, as he lets the final drips of his seed paint every internal surface of your sweet pussy. He presses gentle kisses on your shoulder blade and behind your ear; a stark contrast from the previous roughness.

“I’m gonna pull out now, sweetheart. But don’t go to the bathroom, want you to keep my cum inside of you for as long as you can,” he says, still pressing you against the countertop. You let out a small hum of agreement, and he retreats from your hole and you whine at the loss. You just want to be full of him always. You wrap your hand under you to cup your mound to keep the warm cum from flooding out of you.

Just as Joel is pulling up his jeans, the familiar chime of the doorbell tells you that your first guests are here.

“I’ll get it, baby,” Joel says with a wink and cards his fingers through his now dry salt-and-pepper curls in an attempt to look like he didn’t just fuck you within an inch of your life.

You stay there on the countertop as long as you can, before you hear voices in the foyer. You let out a sigh, not wanting to get up yet, wanting to stay in your filled-up bliss for a moment longer. You stand up to pull your underwear back in place and straighten out your dress.

++++

Of course Tommy and Maria would be the first ones to arrive. Not only were the Miller brothers both incredibly attractive, but they both had the same belief that if you aren’t at least five minutes early, you’re late.

“Tommy, Maria – hi, so lovely to see you, Happy Thanksgiving!” you say, your voice just a little too high. You stand in place behind the kitchen island and clamp your legs shut together tight, trying to pay no mind to the sticky, syrupy release that’s beginning to slowly drip out of you down your thighs.

Maria responds with a similar greeting, and then trails on “This island really ties the room together,” Maria surveys the kitchen, admiring the updates Joel’s been doing around the house.

“Thanks,” Joel replies, “We’ve been breaking it in. You know, with all the cooking and stuff. I think it’s the perfect addition to our home,” he adds, giving you a look that says and it won’t be the only perfect addition in about nine months. You feel your chest heat at Joel’s unsaid words.

“Can I get either of you a drink,” you ask, effectively making the transition back to hostess as you wait for the rest of your guests to arrive.

++++

Nighttime encroaching, your exhaustion takes hold of you. From preparing food all day, tidying up the house – with Joel's help, of course – and an explosive orgasm – also with Joel’s help – your body aches, overcome with the need to sleep for 15 hours or more.

Joel observes your depleted energy, feeling proud that some of it is his doing. He also knows that you’ll need lots of rest in the coming days, and he’s more than happy to take care of you.

So he decides to give you a boost of energy the best way he knows how.

You try to retain any form of composure as he reaches his hand under the table, and grabs your upper thigh. He pauses there for a moment, but eventually trails his hands up under your dress to the damp fabric of your underwear.

He pushes the soiled fabric to the side and sinks his thick finger into your wet hole, collecting the remnants of his release still gathered between the lips of your cunt. You try to hide your pleasure and near-gasps at the intense sensation behind the thin glass of your wine.

“Gotta make sure it sticks, sweetheart,” Joel rasps, only for you to hear.

You mask a moan with a laugh, as if Joel said something funny, instead of the lewd remark he made.

Joel finger fucking his cum back into you under the dinner table wasn’t quite what you had planned for the evening.

But it’s Thanksgiving, and you’re grateful.

++++

After a successful dinner, you and Joel say goodbye to the last guests to leave. You shut the door behind them, and lock the deadbolt. You turn your back to face the door, and Joel’s eyes are trained on yours. You can see it from the look in his eyes, the want and the hunger that simmers behind his dilated pupils.

Joel walks over to you and brings his fingers under your jaw, tilting you to look up at him. He plants a soft kiss on your lips, and you melt into him.

“You did a lot of work today, baby. C’mere, let’s get you into bed,” he offers, tapping your outer thigh and you get the hint. You wrap your arms around his neck, and he picks you up and carries you up the stairs to your bedroom.

Once in bed, Joel takes his time with you. He languidly eats you, savoring the taste of you like you’re better than the Apple Pie he had for dessert a mere hour ago. He would attest that you are, in fact, better than the dessert from earlier.

He’s affectionate, tender, peppering kisses everywhere his lips can reach between the soft pecks, he tells you how much he loves you, and how he can’t wait to see you grow your first baby. He fucks you, slow and intentionally, and gives you another load of his cum.

“I’m staying inside of you until you’re knocked up, sweetheart,” he says, his hard cock softening inside of you, plugging you up so his cum can’t escape. As he lays there playing with your hair, you hear his breath slow and he eventually lets out the soft twitches of early sleep.

You place your hand on your belly over his, where he keeps a tight grip on you, pulling you close to his chest, even in his sleep. Even if you’re not pregnant yet, you know you’re sure as hell gonna have a fun time trying.

“Night, baby,” you say to him, hoping this time next year he’s not the only one you’ll be calling that.

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