Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

Pairing: Rich Fuckboy!Ben Hardy x Fem!Reader

Summery:  An unexpected call from Ben results in an unexpected evening.

Warnings: Smut (18+), Rich kid dickishness, dom/sub dynamics, mostly dom ben and sub reader, but also a little round the other way, a fair bit of derogatory/degrading language (esp whore), edging, cockwarming, a little spanking, oral sex (m receiving), face fucking, piv sex, begging, bondage, forced orgasm. I think thats all.

Words: 12,890

A/N: Wasn't necessarily planning to write more of rich bitch Benny but then I saw some promo pics for his movie Love At First Sight and something in my brain booted up. This was written over a stupidly long time, literally months, so hopefully its okay lmao. Also please excuse any weird formatting. The way tumblr works, paragraphs can't be more than 4096 characters so some of the dialogue had to be broken up to make it postable.

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming@queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

“You get two questions.”  “Five,” Bianca countered.  “Two. I want to have a shower.”  “Fine.” She agreed, disgruntled. Bianca had ambushed you the second you got home, having stayed up waiting on the couch to hear all about your date with Ben. She’d listened patiently, laughing or nodding and squealing a little, as you told her about the restaurant he’d chosen and the club and ending up on the yacht. But when you’d admitted you had slept with him, she got so excited you were a little worried she’d forget to breathe. Bianca thought for a moment, choosing which of her questions were most worth asking, “Okay, one, was he good? Like did you get off?”  “Yeah, he was very good,” you smiled to yourself thinking about just how good he’d been, following all your orders.  Bianca seemed a little relieved that the exceptional lover she’d fantasised about so many times could live up to the image. “Was he into any weird kinks?”  You thought for a moment, contemplating how little you could get away with saying, “Nothing super unusual. But y’know that’s stuff you don’t necessarily bring out the first time.”  “Nothing kinky? Not even like some bondage or spitting or anything?”  “You asked me about weird! Yeah there was a little bondage. Spanking too.” 

"I knew it!” she said before the loudest squeal yet and you hurried to shush her before a neighbour complained.  “He was hung right? Please god tell me he was hung.”  “Thats more than two questions.”  “Fuck, c’mon Y/N. Just describe his dick for me. I've been trying to picture it for years, it’d be mean of you not to tell me.”  You laughed, enjoying teasing her but you felt a little bad for sleeping with her celebrity crush so held up your hands to demonstrate an approximate length, “Comparisons could be drawn to horses.”  Her eyes lit up like it was Christmas, “I knew it.”  “He wasn’t super thick but he was decently long. Nothing crazy but more than enough. Very slight curve.”  She’d closed her eyes and hummed as you described him, “It’s beautiful,” she said dreamily.  Laughing, you bid her goodnight, looking forward to showering and then heading to bed, but once more she stopped you.   “Wait, are you going to sell the story?”  “Oh, I can’t. He made me sign an NDA. I’ve probably said too much already so don’t go repeating it okay.”  “So that’s why no one ever spills too many details.”  “Yeah, must be.” You felt a little bad for lying but you really wanted to shower, and you knew she’d ask more questions if you admitted you didn’t want to tell anyone now. If the night had gone more to Ben’s plan, if you’d let him be in control, you wouldn’t have had any qualms about writing to a magazine with the big scoop. But he’d obviously cultivated a particular image in the public conscious, one that didn’t necessarily align with ideas of him as a willing, even eager, submissive. The thought of selling that story made you feel dirty in a way the other versions just wouldn’t. So, at the end of the night you’d promised to keep it a secret, even if that meant remaining poor. You’d gotten to domme The Benjamin Hardy after all, what more did you need.

As it happened, it wasn’t so much what you needed, but rather what Ben did. Around two weeks after your night together, you answered a call from a private number, hoping it wasn’t a scam caller. Your surprise at hearing Ben’s voice saying your name was rivalled only by his apparent surprise that he was calling.  “Um, what’s this about?” you felt entirely caught off guard.  “I- well, I guess I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me tonight?” It didn’t sound so much like he was asking you, as he was questioning his decision to call.  You laughed, stepping into your cupboard and pulling the door closed so you’d be less likely to be overheard. The darkness made everything feel more surreal than it already did, “You already bored of the airheads who just do what you say?”  He scoffed, his uncertainty falling away at the first opportunity to be a tosser, “No, actually, I’m looking for an easy shag. Most of my regular options are at this fashion thing this weekend but I knew you wouldn’t be invited.”  “Fashion event? Is that what they told you? They’re probably off trying for a different sugar daddy.”  “Good luck to them. They’ll all be back, but my cock’s hard now.”  You rolled your eyes, “C’mon Benny, you don’t have to lie to me. Just admit you liked what I did to you and want me to do it again.”  “I just liked your cunt.”  “You liked me threatening to peg you.”  He paused for a beat, “I like the idea of fucking your arse more.”  “Okay, this is cute,” you said, growing bored of his asshole attitude, “but I’ve got better things to do. Bye Ben.”  “Wait, don’t hang up.”   You let him hang in silence for a few seconds before saying, “I’m listening,” intrigued by the way the bravado had dropped from his voice.  “Would you like to get dinner with me?”  “Just dinner?”  “Yes. Your call if anything else happens.”  You hummed in thought, weighing up your options. On one hand, Bianca would freak out at even the smallest hint there was more than just a one-night stand between you and Ben. And you didn’t really feel like being paraded in front of cameras or his boorish friends again. But on the other, you’d clearly awoken something in Ben. To the point where he seemed willing to go out with you again, even without the promise of sex. And that was after just one night of being edged....imagine what you could do with more time. “Okay, dinner sounds nice. But not at that ridiculous place you took me last time.”  “You didn’t like it there?”  “It was nice, but the cameras are a bit of a buzzkill.”  “Well I can get us in anywhere else, but the paparazzi will find me wherever we go.”  “So then let me pick where we eat.”  “Do you have a standing reservation at any Michelin star restaurants?”  “No but they’re not the only places to eat in this city.” you only just managed not to call him an idiot.  “The only worthwhile ones. Michelin literally means delicious in French.”  “It’s a tire company Ben, it means jack shit. Just let me pick where we eat.”  “Fine, but only if I’m guaranteed a shag. A good one, that I get to control.”  “What happened to just dinner?”  “I think we both know just dinner wasn’t really going to happen. You liked my cock too much. But if I’m not allowed to choose where we go, you’re not allowed to dom me.”  “But isn’t that the entire reason you called?”  “Not the entire reason. I’ll have you know there were ulterior motives.”

As it happened, it wasn’t so much what you needed, but rather what Ben did. Around two weeks after your night together, you answered a call from a private number, hoping it wasn’t a scam caller. Your surprise at hearing Ben’s voice saying your name was rivalled only by his apparent surprise that he was calling.  “Um, what’s this about?” you felt entirely caught off guard.  “I- well, I guess I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me tonight?” It didn’t sound so much like he was asking you, as he was questioning his decision to call.  You laughed, stepping into your cupboard and pulling the door closed so you’d be less likely to be overheard. The darkness made everything feel more surreal than it already did, “You already bored of the airheads who just do what you say?”  He scoffed, his uncertainty falling away at the first opportunity to be a tosser, “No, actually, I’m looking for an easy shag. Most of my regular options are at this fashion thing this weekend but I knew you wouldn’t be invited.”  “Fashion event? Is that what they told you? They’re probably off trying for a different sugar daddy.”  “Good luck to them. They’ll all be back, but my cock’s hard now.”  You rolled your eyes, “C’mon Benny, you don’t have to lie to me. Just admit you liked what I did to you and want me to do it again.”  “I just liked your cunt.”  “You liked me threatening to peg you.”  He paused for a beat, “I like the idea of fucking your arse more.”  “Okay, this is cute,” you said, growing bored of his asshole attitude, “but I’ve got better things to do. Bye Ben.”  “Wait, don’t hang up.”   You let him hang in silence for a few seconds before saying, “I’m listening,” intrigued by the way the bravado had dropped from his voice.  “Would you like to get dinner with me?”  “Just dinner?”  “Yes. Your call if anything else happens.”  You hummed in thought, weighing up your options. On one hand, Bianca would freak out at even the smallest hint there was more than just a one-night stand between you and Ben. And you didn’t really feel like being paraded in front of cameras or his boorish friends again. But on the other, you’d clearly awoken something in Ben. To the point where he seemed willing to go out with you again, even without the promise of sex. And that was after just one night of being edged....imagine what you could do with more time. “Okay, dinner sounds nice. But not at that ridiculous place you took me last time.”  “You didn’t like it there?”  “It was nice, but the cameras are a bit of a buzzkill.”  “Well I can get us in anywhere else, but the paparazzi will find me wherever we go.”  “So then let me pick where we eat.”  “Do you have a standing reservation at any Michelin star restaurants?”  “No but they’re not the only places to eat in this city.” you only just managed not to call him an idiot.  “The only worthwhile ones. Michelin literally means delicious in French.”  “It’s a tire company Ben, it means jack shit. Just let me pick where we eat.”  “Fine, but only if I’m guaranteed a shag. A good one, that I get to control.”  “What happened to just dinner?”  “I think we both know just dinner wasn’t really going to happen. You liked my cock too much. But if I’m not allowed to choose where we go, you’re not allowed to dom me.”  “But isn’t that the entire reason you called?”  “Not the entire reason. I’ll have you know there were ulterior motives.”

By the time Ben pulled up you were waiting out on the street. You’d decided it was best to get out without Bianca finding out who you were going out with, just to minimize the questions and potential jealousy or excitement. You weren’t sure which direction her emotions would go in. So you’d twisted the truth a little to make it sound like Ben was a random guy you’d matched with on tinder. Bianca had been interested but not as overbearing as she might have been had she known, her questions more general ones about where you were going and how long you’d been messaging the guy. Ben seemed a little surprised when he saw you waitingbut got out and held the limo door open for you.   “Worried if I came up you’d forget yourself and just have to get my cock out?”  You snorted, “No, I just don’t want Bianca to know I’m going out with you again.”  “Bianca....why does that name sound familiar?”  “She’s my roommate. I mentioned her last time. She was with me when we met and you first asked me out.”  “Oh, right, the chick who puked.” Ben laughed, “You worried she’d be jealous? Should have invited her, she sounds easy and you know that’s my type.”  “Ben,” you said firmly, beginning to regret not just hanging up on him, “you know that sort of comment isn’t going to work on me, especially since you’re talking about my friend. Now either stop acting like such a prick, or I will go back upstairs and block your number. There is no one here who is going to be impressed by your bullshit.  “Sorry.” He said softly and surprisingly sincerely, “You look nice, by the way.”  “Sure you don’t want to tell me I should have dressed sluttier?” You waved a hand in front of yourself, indicating the dress you’d chosen. It was neither as short, nor as tight, as the dress you’d worn last time, falling to your knees, not clinging to your skin. The only vaguely revealing part of the dress was a little bit of cleavage on display and even that wasn’t much.   “No, it suits you. And you look lovely in it.”   You were a little suspicious but chose to accept the complement, thanking Ben before saying, “I did do as you asked though. No underwear.”  He tried not to look too pleased, “Can I see?”  “Not yet.”  “What if I promise to go down on you until we get to wherever you’re taking me – which is where by the way?”  You gave him the address and he passed it on to the driver.  “So?” he asked as the car began to move, “You know I know how to eat pussy.”  You rolled your eyes, though you felt that at least his tact included offering to pleasure you rather than just himself, “No. Not yet.”  “I thought you promised to be my whore,” he pouted. Ben still wasn’t used to not getting his way immediately, “My whores do what I say when I say it.”  “Well we both know that doesn’t work with me, does it baby,” you weren’t sure how far Ben would let you push him, but it was fun to test the waters. He made a low rumbly sound, almost a growl, and for a moment you wondered if he’d put his hand on your throat like last time, attempt to intimidate you into complying. Instead, he just nodded and subtly palmed the front of his pants.  “I know I let you maul me in this limo last time,” you felt confident enough that he wouldn’t try anything to continue, “but that was when I was trying to lull you into a false sense of domination. So we’re going to have dinner first and you’re going to be nice to me. And then, once we’re on the way to your place, that’s when I’ll let you take control.”  Ben was quiet for a moment, contemplating what you’d said. You could see his habitual tendencies to objectify every women he talked to were battling with his clear enjoyment of being bossed around, “Okay, deal. But you’ll be fucking in for it later.”

By the time Ben pulled up you were waiting out on the street. You’d decided it was best to get out without Bianca finding out who you were going out with, just to minimize the questions and potential jealousy or excitement. You weren’t sure which direction her emotions would go in. So you’d twisted the truth a little to make it sound like Ben was a random guy you’d matched with on tinder. Bianca had been interested but not as overbearing as she might have been had she known, her questions more general ones about where you were going and how long you’d been messaging the guy. Ben seemed a little surprised when he saw you waitingbut got out and held the limo door open for you.   “Worried if I came up you’d forget yourself and just have to get my cock out?”  You snorted, “No, I just don’t want Bianca to know I’m going out with you again.”  “Bianca....why does that name sound familiar?”  “She’s my roommate. I mentioned her last time. She was with me when we met and you first asked me out.”  “Oh, right, the chick who puked.” Ben laughed, “You worried she’d be jealous? Should have invited her, she sounds easy and you know that’s my type.”  “Ben,” you said firmly, beginning to regret not just hanging up on him, “you know that sort of comment isn’t going to work on me, especially since you’re talking about my friend. Now either stop acting like such a prick, or I will go back upstairs and block your number. There is no one here who is going to be impressed by your bullshit.  “Sorry.” He said softly and surprisingly sincerely, “You look nice, by the way.”  “Sure you don’t want to tell me I should have dressed sluttier?” You waved a hand in front of yourself, indicating the dress you’d chosen. It was neither as short, nor as tight, as the dress you’d worn last time, falling to your knees, not clinging to your skin. The only vaguely revealing part of the dress was a little bit of cleavage on display and even that wasn’t much.   “No, it suits you. And you look lovely in it.”   You were a little suspicious but chose to accept the complement, thanking Ben before saying, “I did do as you asked though. No underwear.”  He tried not to look too pleased, “Can I see?”  “Not yet.”  “What if I promise to go down on you until we get to wherever you’re taking me – which is where by the way?”  You gave him the address and he passed it on to the driver.  “So?” he asked as the car began to move, “You know I know how to eat pussy.”  You rolled your eyes, though you felt that at least his tact included offering to pleasure you rather than just himself, “No. Not yet.”  “I thought you promised to be my whore,” he pouted. Ben still wasn’t used to not getting his way immediately, “My whores do what I say when I say it.”  “Well we both know that doesn’t work with me, does it baby,” you weren’t sure how far Ben would let you push him, but it was fun to test the waters. He made a low rumbly sound, almost a growl, and for a moment you wondered if he’d put his hand on your throat like last time, attempt to intimidate you into complying. Instead, he just nodded and subtly palmed the front of his pants.  “I know I let you maul me in this limo last time,” you felt confident enough that he wouldn’t try anything to continue, “but that was when I was trying to lull you into a false sense of domination. So we’re going to have dinner first and you’re going to be nice to me. And then, once we’re on the way to your place, that’s when I’ll let you take control.”  Ben was quiet for a moment, contemplating what you’d said. You could see his habitual tendencies to objectify every women he talked to were battling with his clear enjoyment of being bossed around, “Okay, deal. But you’ll be fucking in for it later.”

“Who’s house is this?” Ben asked as he offered you a hand out of the limo, the bag of food in his other. You leant back in to grab the bottle of champagne and the glasses, able to feel Ben ogling the hem of your dress as it rose up the back of your legs, “It’s not the house we’re here for, c’mon.” You led him around the corner and up a little alley that ran behind the houses. Ben scrunched up his nose a little, “Bit…dingy isn’t it. Not really the sort of place I want to eat. Quickie during a party is a different story though.” You ignored him, leading him further down the path until it opened out into a little garden which was surrounded by trees, making it feel removed from the outside world. Ben’s dissatisfaction with the alley turned into a bemused approval, “Well this is quite nice. You set it up yourself?” “No, the lights got put up for a Christmas party a few years back and they just left them up.” Ben looked around at the twinkling white solar lights draped throughout the tree branches, “Well it’s not what I was expecting but it’s nice. Cute. Little bit romantic even with the moonlight and all. Well done.” You laughed a little and took the bag from him as you sat down in the middle of a circle of stone pavers, pulling out the few dishes you’d ordered as well as some paper plates and bamboo cutlery. Ben watched you for a while until you told him to sit down. He warily crouched down, brushing leaf litter from a patch before he sat proper. When he caught your raised eyebrow he shrugged, “This suit is worth more than you make in a year. Not even the best cunt in the world could make me ruin it.” “You think I have the best cunt in the world? I’m flattered,” you continued dishing up the food, handing a plate to Ben. “That’s not what I meant. We’ll see after tonight though. If you behave and take me the way I want, you might be in the running.” You did your best to hide a smile, trying not to give away how amusing his comment was. That is, until he took it too far and your smile turned into an eye roll. “Although, to really be sure I’d have to have all the contenders lined up for me to test out one after another. Hmmm, now that’s a thought." You cleared your throat, hoping a gentle reminder would be enough but Ben remained lost in pornographically unrealistic fantasies, the outline of his cock much more visible than it had been a moment before. “Fork Ben?” you asked, tempted to poke him with the implement.” “You’ve gotten eager but alright.” This time you did poke him, just quickly in the shoulder, emphasising correct articulation as you repeated, “Fork.” “Ow, alright.” He took the cutlery from you, “you’re the one who was talking about cunts though. Can’t blame me for mishearing.” Before you could do more than huff in response Ben quickly said, “So, you gonna explain this place to me? Because I can tell you, if we’re caught trespassing here, we’ll definitely end up in the papers and that sort of publicity is much less fun than being seen at a nice restaurant.”

You shook your head as you settled back with your own plate, “No, we have permission to be here. Hows the food by the way?” “Incredible. Can’t believe I haven’t heard of them before.” “Well they don’t have any Michelin stars so maybe that’s why. And don’t you start telling your rich friends about it. I don’t want you ruining my favourite Thai place.” Ben laughed, “So when you say we have permission to be here what do you mean?” “Well, I grew up in this area actually. One street over, but I used to come to this spot a lot. It was designed to be a little community garden, there’s still some planters over along the fence, but mostly it gets used for street parties and things, so usually it was empty. I used to come here when I wanted to be alone. It seemed so secret and secluded and, I don’t know, kind of magical I guess. I mean, now I know it wasn’t quite as secret as I thought. The house that we’re behind can see directly between those two trees,” you pointed at them, “and the old couple who used to live there were friends with my parents, so they’d keep an eye on me. And then when I was a bit older I did some baby sitting for their daughter who eventually moved back into the house to look after her parents and who still lives there now since she inherited it.” “So she can see us? Didn’t know you were into exhibitionism.” “She’s overseas at the moment. But our families have kept in contact and when I said I had a date I wanted to bring here she said it’d be fine.” “Condemning silence about exhibitionism which I’ve definitely filed away. But this place is nice. A little dirty perhaps, but nice.” He had another mouthful and then said, “So, why exactly did you bring me here?” “Isn’t that obvious?” He hummed thoughtfully, “Because you’re a dirty girl who likes doing it outside? Because you didn’t want me to have home ground advantage? Because you don’t like the idea of other women having me and this way you get me all to yourself? Am I getting close?” “I wanted to see you away from the cameras and the fawning models and the arseholes you call friends. I wanted a nice, normal sort of a night where we weren’t going to end up on the front page of every gossip website. And I wanted to see if you were a prick even without an audience.” “Please, you like it” he scoffed teasingly, “And I don’t understand what you’ve got against having your photo taken. I told you last time that being seen is half the fun. I mean, don’t me wrong, this is nice too. Just a bit boring in comparison.” “Mmm, well I’m sure there’ll be plenty of articles speculating on where you were tonight since no one’s got a picture.” Ben perked up a little at the idea, “That’s a good point. Maybe a quiet night every so often isn’t a bad idea.”

For the next little while, as you finished your dinner, Ben oscillated between total sweetheart and utter dickhead, as though he were playing Double Dutch with the line between. You’d hoped that getting him on his own would discourage some of the behaviours he’d displayed last time you’d been with him. If he wasn’t around his idiot friends, he’d have no one to objectify women with. If you weren’t at a restaurant, none of his previous or prospective conquests could remind him of wild nights that he’d then tell you all about. If he couldn’t throw money around in order to buy your company for the night, he’d have to offer stimulating conversation and a genuine reason for your interest instead. But apparently it was not as cause and effect as you’d assumed and Ben still managed to do all the things you’d hoped to avoid. And if anything, being alone with him with no other women to distract made him even more intent on getting you out of your clothes. He suggested first that dinner would taste better eaten off your tits. And then when you tried to come up with a new topic of conversation, he decided to reminisce about a time he’d seduced a TV personality on the set of a cooking show after they’d both been judging it. And every time you took a sip of champagne he’d watch as if telepathically trying to get you drunk. The annoying thing was that in between he was absolutely delightful. You knew there was a decent man buried beneath the layers of wankery his affluent lifestyle had imbued him with. But it was only after he smiled charmingly, leaned in close, and suggested you give him a quick handy if you weren’t going to lift your skirt, that you grew fed up enough to voice the opinion you’d formed about his style of flirting. “Y’know, I thought you’d be better at it.” “Better at what?” he asked suspiciously, “I can assure you I’m incredible at it, you just need a proper demonstration.” “No not that. Flirting. I mean, that is what you’re trying to do isn’t it?” “Obviously,” he said, taken aback. “I guess you’ve never had to really try have you? You were blessed with looks and money. Probably never been turned down in your life, even when you should have been.” “What are you talking about? Don’t tell me you actually are as dumb as the rest of them. And here I was thinking fucking your brains out would be an actual accomplishment.” “No, I just….it’s not good flirting. You realise that right?” “What do you mean not good flirting? It works every time.” “No, I think it’s the money that works every time. Being rich means you can get away with a lot of other bullshit.” When he seemed likely to try and contradict you, you spoke over the top of him, “Listen, I know I can’t speak for every woman you hit on but I can tell you that if an average looking guy with an average amount of money tried to flirt the way you do, he would be shot down. Very, very quickly. For the most part women don’t want to be degraded by random guys they go out with. And they don’t want to hear about all your other conquests when you’re hitting on them.” “Well what would you know,” he said, crossing his arms in sullen defensiveness.

You turned up the condescension, “Aww baby, I get it. You’ve never had to learn how to keep a girl interested without buying her attention." Ben was still pouting but his expression had changed, less cocksure. “It’s okay baby, I’ll keep you in line.” Ben gave half a nod but then paused, “Hey, wait. Stop making me feel subby, I’m meant to be domming tonight.” You laughed at how he sounded almost like he was going to throw a tantrum, “but it’s so easy and fun.” “Well turning you into a fucked out cockslut will be fun too.” There was a short pause and then Ben, much more seriously said, “But you really think my flirting is bad?” “I hate to break it to you but, kinda yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s not all bad. You just need some work. Sometimes you take things a bit far with the teasy banter.” “Like when?” “Hmmm well, just before when you were bragging about how expensive your suit is – which is pretty unsexy by the way – and then I countered with a joke about having the best cunt in the world. Personally I didn’t mind your come back about making me behave or whatever. It was a little crass maybe but not too much more than what I’d said, and since we both know I’m letting you take charge tonight it was a bit hot. But then you took it too far by inventing a scenario in which you would have the chance to compare me to other women. We went from hot to ick in a matter of seconds.” “I’m pretty sure I was implying that you would win.” “Didn’t really sound like it and absolutely not the point. How can I put it? When you talk to me like I’m a normal human being not something put in front of you for your sexual gratification, when we have a proper conversation with a little bit of banter, that’s fun and enjoyable and makes me want to sleep with you. But then you’ll tell me about some other woman you had sex with or you’ll make a derogatory comment about my friend, whom you’ve not even properly met, or you’ll act like you expect me to get my tits out as, I don’t know, decoration while you eat. Basically anything to imply that the only reason you’re even here with me is to have sex.” “But that was the agreement.” “I know. And I am totally fine with having a night out with the expectation it’ll end in sex. But it would be nice, and it would make me want to fuck you more, if you acted like getting laid wasn’t the only thing you care about. Especially because sometimes it’s like you don’t even care who you have sex with as long as you get off, like you have no interest in if I enjoy it, you just want to use me cause I'm there.” “And that’s bad?” “As a flirting technique yes.” “But it’s a complement? And I’ve been with loads of women who say being used is hot.” “Well it’s not the nicest complement ever. And I’m not saying it isn’t hot in some situations. But not everyone likes it and even women who do enjoy it don’t necessarily want it all the time or with someone they’ve never slept with before.” “Lighten up, it’s a bit of fun and I always get them off." “Yeah but you imply that you don’t care if they cum or not which makes you seem like a bit of an asshole. Plus sometimes it can come off a little rapey. Less like a ‘I don’t care if you cum’ and more of a ‘I don’t care if you actually want it’ type thing. I don’t think I need to tell you why that’s unattractive.” “I- no- how,” Ben spluttered before he finally managed, “I would never!” “I’m not saying you have and I’m not saying you would. But sometimes you can come off a bit like that, even if it’s well intentioned. Last time we went out you pinned me down in the back of your car, your hand on my throat, and told me I was going to do everything you wanted. You were practically a stranger, I didn’t know where we were, I had no quick way of leaving partly because we were in your car and partly because of the stupidly high shoes I was wearing. It was kind of threatening. I mean I know that wasn’t your intention but…” you trailed off letting Ben absorb what you’d said.

“I really didn’t realise that’s how I sounded, I’m sorry.” “It’s okay. I was never scared or anything, I didn’t think you would rape me. And I don’t say this to accuse you of something or to be mean. I’m just sick of some of the things you’ve been saying, and I think you deserve to know that what you think is cheeky flirting can come across differently to the women you’re flirting with. "Um, well, thanks I guess. ‘Spose it is better for me to know. Don’t want to get cancelled or whatever, father would kill me. So, do you want me to take you home now?” “What? No, not at all.” “I don’t want you to think you have to sleep with me. If you want to end tonight early, I’m okay with that.” “Oh, baby, no, that’s not what I want. I came here knowing I’d end up in your bed and I think we can still have fun. Besides, I’m still eating.” “Are you sure? Wouldn’t think you’d still be up for it after everything you said.” “To tell the truth I'd really love to dom you now. Punish you for some of the gross bullshit you’ve said, put you in your place again. But we made a deal and I’m very happy to hold to it.” “Really? I think you killed my boner.” You giggled, “Well if you don’t want to, we can just finish dinner and you can drop me home. But I think I can get you back up.” Ben eyed you suspiciously, “How?” “I train you to behave better.” He shifted surreptitiously but didn’t say anything. “We stay here, finish dinner, finish his bottle of champagne, talk for a bit. But every time you say something I would consider bad flirting technique, I will do something to remind you to be better. Pull your hair, maybe edge you, whatever will get the message across.” “I guess that could be fun.” Ben said, trying to sound as if he didn’t mind and failing, “Not really the deal we made though.” You laughed, “Are you telling me that wouldn’t make you want revenge? Being edged and teased when you were meant to be in charge. Wouldn’t that rile you up. Make you want to turn the tables, show me who’s boss. I mean, all your cocky dom behaviour is what got me wanting to tie you up last time, but maybe it doesn’t work like that for you.” “Oh! I hadn’t thought of it like that.” “Because you like when I tell you what to do.” “No. Well maybe a bit. But mostly because I feel bad and thought I should just do what you want so you’d know I wouldn’t, like, hurt you or whatever. I mean, I would have expected another night for you to make it up to me but…” “It is tempting but I’ll admit I might have some ulterior motives for letting you dom me,” you leaned closer to Ben as if you were about to reveal a big secret, “You can learn a lot about how to control a guy by letting him control you. So I’m happy to let you do virtually anything you want to me. With a few exceptions.” “What sort of exceptions?” “I don’t mind anal play,” you dropped into a more serious tone rather than the sultry one you’d slipped into, “but I haven’t done any prep for it so none of it tonight please. Also, I would prefer any marks left are in easy to hide places. Concealer can be bloody expensive and I don’t want to waste any on whatever hickeys and bruises you want to leave. And I’m not super into choking. I don’t mind a hand on my neck but no squeezing if possible.” Ben hummed, “But everything else is on the cards? Mouth and cunt? Spanking? Hair pulling? Tying you up?” “Mmhmm. Whatever you want. As soon as we’re back in that car of yours. Of course, if you’re feeling all subby then that could be what you want.” A low rumble emanated from Ben’s throat as if he were growling and it made you intrigued and a little wet. But you did your best to play it cool, “See, looks like we’re fixing your boner already.”

Fortunately for you, it seemed to take Ben a little while to grasp just what you considered inappropriate flirting. At first you kept your reminders small, giving him firm taps and small pinches, maybe cutting him off to tell him to try again. But, when the lessons didn’t seem to be sticking, you ramped it up a little. By the time you were finished with the food and had moved on to finishing the champagne, he once again tried to describe a night he’d spent with another women, going into unnecessary detail about her figure in less than polite terms. You let him talk as you undid his zip and reached into his pants. Ben hummed as your fingers stroked along his already semi hard length, easily pulled free since he’d not worn underwear either, “Your gonna try and outdo her now are you?” he asked, seemingly having forgotten your threats, “Hope you know how to suck properly cause she was an expert.” You didn’t respond, just kept focused on the handjob as Ben went back to describing what the young woman had done to him. His voice became strained as he got more excited, his cock well and truly hard within your grasp, beads of precum at his tip. “Why’d you stop?” he groaned when you removed your hand before he could finish. “I told you I’d edge you.” “I thought you were bluffing,” he admitted, his face flushed. “Oh I never joke about edging baby. Especially when I’m using it to correct bad behaviour.” “What’s to stop me just finishing myself off?” “Well then you obviously wouldn’t need me at all tonight.” Ben’s hand hovered over his cock for a moment before he moved it aside. “Good boy. Now tell me more about that art show you mentioned. Did you say there was an auction?”

“Um, yeah.” He blinked like he was trying to get his brain to switch thought, “Father thinks I should be seen at fundraisers and charity events more than at clubs and restaurants so I mostly went to keep him off my back. It was mostly pretty boring but I ended up winning this stunning painting, only good piece of the night. Very detailed nude. The tits on her, phwoar. I even met the model who posed for it. Wanted to com-” Ben cut himself off as you began wanking him again. “Sorry.” “Thank you for apologising baby,” you sped your hand up, figuring since he’d caught himself before he said anything really bad you wouldn’t draw this one out. “You can stop, I didn’t say anything.” “Aww baby, I still have to edge you. Otherwise you’ll never learn.” Ben swore when you did release him, his breath heavy as he said, “That wasn’t fair. I wasn’t even going to say anything bad. Besides your tits are better. Not as big but I’ve touched both and yours are better. No, no, please.” “You can come up with a better complement than that.” You sighed, as if edging him was a chore you didn’t enjoy. “Fucking bitch. I know this is just cause I’ve got the best cock you’ve ever had and you wanted an excuse to touch it.” “Amazingly, that’s worse. And it’ll cost you another three edges. One for calling me a bitch. One for being so far up your own ass you think I couldn’t possibly have had better. And one because I know you’re enjoying this and that’s why you keep saying the douchiest shit.” You pulled your hand away, “Thats one.” Ben whined when you started on the next, the break between only short. “Don’t cum,” you reminded him, “it will not stop me, I’ll just overstimulate you instead. Maybe then you’ll really learn your lesson.” “Please, please, close,” Ben managed to whimper, and you pulled your hand away again to reward him. Ben whined and pounded his fist against the ground once, but he managed to keep whatever thoughts he was having to himself. He was clearly learning. “Just one more, okay baby?” Ben nodded, leaning back on his elbows. His cockhead was dark and precum dripped down his shaft. He wouldn’t last if you began another edge too soon so you decided to toy with him in other ways while you waited. Pushing yourself to your knees, you gathered the hem of your dress in your fists and slowly began to raise it. “Wasn’t sure I believed you,” Ben said, not quite managing to sound as cocky as he had before the edges but making a valiant attempt “Good to know you can follow instructions.” He reached a hand out as if to touch your naked pussy but you tutted and grabbed his wrist. “Not yet, baby.” you shuffled closer, keeping the front of your dress lifted as you placed a knee on either side of his legs. “Now edge yourself for me.” Ben groaned with longing as he looked at your cunt, but then he switched to glaring at you as he did as you’d said, slowly working his hand along his shaft, aided by precum and a little of his own spit. You’d been fully prepared to rub yourself along his cock or even against his thigh if he’d made a fuss, but he hadn’t even tried to argue. He was clearly planning your demise, if his expression was anything to go by, but you had expected that and only minded in so much as you were missing out on the subby little face he made when you’d had him last and he’d given in completely. But you let him go, occasionally instructing him, but mostly just watching his reactions, seeing if you could pick when he was close. It didn’t take long for him to get there, whining as he pulled his hand back. “Good boy,” you let your dress drop again, leaning forward to carefully tuck his leaking cock back into his pants, hoping that just your touch wouldn’t set him off.

Settling back onto the rug you continued the conversation as if nothing had happened, sipping at your champagne. Ben drank his a little faster, still staring daggers at you from over the rim of his glass, even when responding to you. But he seemed to have learnt his lesson. Once or twice he started to say something but cut himself off and changed tact, and you ended up having a genuinely pleasant chat. He was still flirty, still explicit about how much he wanted to fuck you, just less obnoxious about it. You didn’t have to hear about any more of his previous sexual escapades at any rate, and he was attentive enough to make you feel like sex was only most of what he cared about. Finally, you decided to put him out of his misery and see what he had in store for you.  “Bottles empty."  “I’ve got more back at the hotel” Ben said, catching on instantly – the bottle had been empty for a little while.   “Perfect,” you smiled and let him help you to your feet, collecting the rubbish in the bag from the Thai place and dropping it into a bin out on the street as he hurried you back to the car. The driver stubbed out a cigarette on the road when he saw you approaching and was holding the door open by the time you reached him. 

You were barely inside when Ben put his hand on your knees, pushing your legs open. “Already?” you asked, breath hitching as he exposed you. “Are you kidding? After what you did tonight, you think I’d wait?” he leaned in closer, one hand sliding up your thigh as the other remained firm on your knee so you couldn’t close your legs again, “After last time you really think I wouldn’t be itching to get my hands on you? You got something no one else has had and I’m so fucking annoyed that I liked it. I went home so pissed off after we docked because I know that you could have me on my knees, at your beck and call, in an instant. And I can’t have you out there bragging about it, telling anyone else, or I’m ruined. Especially because I also love domming sluts. Now, we did your quiet little dinner thing, I listened to you criticise me and imply I don’t satisfy my women. And then, as if that wasn’t enough, I let you have some fun at my expense. You were obviously so desperate to get my cock out that you had to make up an excuse to touch me,” his fingers stroked against your cunt and he smirked as if your wetness was proving him right, “but that’s okay. I like my whores desperate.” You wanted to interrupt him, to tell him that he was wrong, or better yet to steal control from him again, but as soon as you opened your mouth his palm was covering it. “Shhh no, it’s my turn to talk. I think it’s time for you to have a lesson, a hard lesson, in what it means to be my whore. That was our deal anyway. So you’re going to be quiet and do what I want. Nod if you consent.” You decided you must have got through to him at least a little bit since he was now trying to make consent clear, it was a far cry from when he’d last had you pinned down in his limo anyway, and you had agreed to it beforehand. So you nodded. “You’re going to be an eager and willing slut for me aren’t you?” You nodded but it wasn’t enough for Ben who moved his hand away and ordered “repeat what you are.” “You’re eager and willing slut. Sir.” “That’s what I like to hear. And you will enjoy everything I do to you. That’s not a threat, that’s a promise. Now show me your cunt again.” He sat back and you readjusted yourself in the seat, hitching your dress up as you spread your legs wider. Ben hummed in appreciation, “Touch yourself for me.” You swallowed thickly and did as he asked, stroking your fingers over your lips, already a little wet from teasing him. But Ben expected more, “Do it properly. You know how big I am, get yourself ready so I can fit.”

It made you want to roll your eyes but you resisted the urge, ready to play along like you’d promised. Instead, you kept eye contact with him as you stuck your fingers in your mouth, slicking them up with saliva before moving them back down to your cunt. On another day you might have been able to use the position to your advantage, make him so eager for you with your display that you could take charge before he realised what was happening. You were certain that if you’d made Ben watch you fingering yourself last time he would have turned submissive before you even made it onto the yacht. But he seemed determined to give you a taste of your own medicine today. He made a pleased sound and just watched. There was definitely a tension to him – something in the way he sat back from you and how his hand rested on the edge of the seat as if he were about to dig his fingers into the soft leather to keep from giving in – but he kept up the appearance of nonchalance. Which made you less sure of your assessment, and more worried about what he had in store for you. By the time you were adding a third finger, you felt very flustered and warm. Ben hadn’t looked away once. He’d relaxed more, content with watching despite how he was straining against the fabric of his pants. He’d made a couple of comments to either instruct you more specifically, or to gloat about how following orders suited you. “You like to play at taking charge, but we both know you want a man like me to control you.” You shook your head but your defiance was undercut by a whine. Ben just laughed, “you’re cunt agrees with me. I can see how wet you are. I can hear it. Don’t think you’re wet enough to handle my cock yet though. Guess I should give you a hand.” He’d been slowly rolling up his sleeve as he spoke but once it was up he quickly moved to take over. His body boxed you in against the seat and he pulled your fingers free, replacing them with his own. You half expected him to reach for your throat like last time but he didn’t. He did however shove three large fingers into your cunt, making you whine a little at the extra stretch of them. “Knew you needed help,” he smirked as he began fingering you relentlessly, his movements shallow and fast but reaching deeper. After a few rapid strokes he added in a little curl of his fingers against your front wall and you moaned suddenly. The look Ben gave you was his most insufferable yet, entirely too pleased with himself, but there wasn’t much you could do since he was making you feel so good.

Entirely too quickly he stopped and you looked around confused, wondering if you’d arrived already.  Ben didn’t answer, more concerned with getting his pants undone and pushing them down.   You were about to suggest that maybe he was the desperate one when he sat down and beckoned you over.   “You wanted it so bad, whore, here you go.” When you didn’t move straight away he clicked his fingers, “I know it's a monster but your cunt can take it. C’mon.”  You moved closer and Ben grabbed your hips, manhandling you onto his lap, groaning as you sank down he shaft.  Your back was to Ben, so you braced your hands on his knees, assuming you were meant to ride him. But he stopped you, wrapping an arm around you to keep you still, “no don’t move. You can warm me for a bit while I explain the trouble you’re in.”  You squirmed, not out of a strong desire to exhaust yourself riding him, more to show he wouldn’t have it too easy, even if you had agreed to submit. Ben’s grip remained tight but his other hand did slip down to your pussy, his fingers finding your clit with surprising ease and rubbing it lightly. Not firm enough to get you very far but enough to make you want more.   “You’re going to get a taste of your own medicine. I’m going to make you wait, and I’m going to make you beg, and I’m going to have you as much as I can tonight. And maybe again in the morning if you’re lucky.”  “How do you know I’ll beg?”  “Well if you don’t that’ll be your problem. Because you won’t be cumming until you do. But, see, I’ll get off as much as I want. Your little edging game means that even just being in you has me close already. It gave me some ideas too.” That was when he started rubbing your clit properly, his fingertips pressing against it, pulling you closer to the edge.   You knew it wouldn’t last, that he’d stop before you got anywhere near orgasm, but that didn’t change how disappointing it was when he did. Especially because you involuntarily clenched around his cock at the sudden lack of stimulation, and heard Ben groan in your ear.  “God you feel good when I deny you,” he said as he started again.   You quickly lost track of how many edges you had and how long you’d been in the car.   Ben hadn’t had the satisfaction of hearing you beg, but he’d made you whine and whimper. And he’d had more actual satisfaction than you, managing an orgasm just from the wet warmth of you tightening around him a few times. He’d gone rigid for a moment as he reached his release but then he’d recovered himself and gone right back to edging you. You’d tried to clench around him more intentionally, hoping to overstimulate him a little, but if he felt much he didn’t let on. Which meant that by the time he pushed you from his lap you could feel a combination of his cum and your slick on your thighs and dripping from your cunt.   The car pulled up as Ben said, “Clean yourself up,” tossing you a few tissues from a pocket inside his suit jacket, “Can’t have you dripping through the foyer.”  That felt more humiliating than anything else he’d done or said, especially because of how horny and wet you were, but Ben didn’t seem to notice as he tucked himself away again and smoothed out his suit.   Once you’d straightened yourself up as much as you could in the confines of the limo, Ben helped you out, once again acting the gentleman as he offered you his arm.

You tried to act as normal as possible as you walked through the foyer of what was obviously a five star hotel, an ambitious goal considering what had happened on the drive there and how fancy the place seemed.  "Do you live here?” you asked, hoping that having a conversation to focus on would help with the image you were attempting to cultivate.   Ben shook his head as you approached the lifts, “No, I have a house. Father bought it for me when I turned 18. He thought it would do me good to live on my own or something. But I never take the women I fuck there.”  You blinked, surprised, “why not?”  “If I was dating them it would be different, and in fact one of my exes did move in there with me for a while. But one night stands don’t get to see where I live. I permanently keep the penthouse suite here for getting my dick wet. That’s how you know you’re one of my whores.” He didn't give you a chance to respond, pulling you into a demanding kiss, his hands roaming over your arse until the elevator dinged at his floor.  

It was a short walk to his door and Ben already had the keycard out by the time you reached it, clearly eager for more. He took just enough time to place a do not disturb hanger on the door handle before he pushed you to your knees right there in the entry way. When you looked up he was working on unbuckling his pants again, his cock already hard as he pulled it out, his quick refractory time a result of the edges, or so you assumed.   “I’m sure you’ve got some little plan to get on top going on in your head right now, Y/N,” he said as he worked on his pants, “But I assure you it won’t be happening tonight, so I think a little test is in order. You need to prove you can submit before you go any further.”  You nodded meekly, already horny and resigned to your fate.   “Well go on, suck.”  You shuffled forward, feeling Ben’s large fingers twisting softly in your hair to guide you. Bracing yourself for his fist to tighten or for him to force you down his shaft, you pressed your lips to his tip. But he defied your expectations, his hands leaving you altogether once he had you in place. It was strange but you didn’t complain, focusing instead on his cock.  Ben sighed in pleasure as you brought a spit wet palm up to stroke his shaft, your mouth busy becoming acquainted with his tip, but otherwise he made little acknowledgement of your actions. Instead he preoccupied himself getting undressed.   You felt more than saw him shimmy out of his jacket, flinging it unceremoniously to the floor behind him. Next came the sound of his wristwatch being placed, much more carefully, on the hall stand beside you. A moment later his cufflinks joined it. When he took off his dress shirt you had to pause your bobbing, letting him fall from your lips as you pulled back to watch. He did have a very nice chest, you remembered that from last time, and you were sure he’d take your looking as a complement.   Ben flashed you a pleased look as he noticed you, allowing you to watch as he slipped the shirt from his arms and dropped it to the floor, but once it was off he considered the show over. His fist was once again in your hair, this time much more forcefully tugging you back towards his cock.   “I didn’t tell you to stop.” he drawled as you got your lips around his tip and felt his palm pushing you further down his length.   You managed okay to start but without being able to control your pace as much you couldn’t keep from gagging as you took Ben deeper.   Ben hummed, clearly satisfied with the sound, his hand loosening a little as a reward.   You took the hint and found a rhythm that pleased him, working yourself up and down his shaft, your hand stroking whatever wasn’t in your mouth. You gagged a few more times as you pushed yourself further, but Ben definitely enjoyed it when you did.  All of a sudden he stopped you, both hands in your hair to keep you from moving.   “I think you’re ready now, hands off.”  You had no idea what he thought you were ready for but you did as he said, partly because you wanted to prove him wrong about your ability to follow orders, but mostly because you were very turned on and wanted to hurry up and get to the bit where he’d fuck you for real. The thought was distracting enough that you were caught off guard as he pressed his hips forward, pushing more of his cock than you were ready for towards your throat. You gagged again and Ben groaned. 

“Good girl, just take it.” He said grunted as he thrust into your mouth again, and then again, not worrying about going slow.  Your hair was tangled tight in his fingers, keeping you from moving too far from where he wanted you. Instinct made you try to lean back a little but aside from Ben’s grip, you were too close to the door to get very far. You heard Ben’s knuckles bump against it, the solid wood an intimidating barrier behind you that made it clear you had little choice but to do as Ben wanted. You assumed that if you’d tapped out, Ben would have let you, but you didn’t want to. Ben had been right when he’d said it was hot to be used. You were already very wet but your pussy ached as he fucked your mouth, denying you what you really wanted so he could take what would satisfy him. Each shift of his hips made indecent wet sounds as saliva built up and dripped onto your chin and he pulled more gags from your throat. Tears pooled in your eyes but Ben didn’t seem to care. He kept up fucking you for longer than you might have expected if you’d been able to think clearly enough to guess. Especially with how turned on he must have been, just based on the groans and moans he made as he used you. But finally Ben seemed to reach a limit of just how much pleasure he could withstand. His hips sped up, and he grunted each word on a new thrust as he said, “Gonna fucking cum. You better fucking swallow.”  You blinked more tears from your eyes which Ben took as compliance with his wants as he got himself off, rutting against your tongue until he stopped, keeping you pinned between his hips and the door as he filled your mouth with cum. Ben pulled out quickly which you were thankful for. You’d been able to steal breaths throughout the blowjob but had unwittingly held your breath as he finished, and were eager to be free. He took half a step back, hands rising to his hips as he stared you down, daring you to recoil at the taste of his cum or worse still to spit it out. Between heavy breaths through your nose your swallowed, fighting the urge to wipe your eyes or face.  “Good girl,” Ben cooed as if he’d expected a brattier display, “I knew that fem dom shit was just a cry for attention. This was what you really wanted all along.”  You shook your head so that you could at least say you tried to disagree, but Ben was more concerned with tucking his cock away again and missed the display of defiance altogether. Once he was sorted he helped you up, taking a moment to examine your face before dragging his thumbs under your eyes to clear up the mascara that had transferred there.  “Pointless,” he muttered softly when he realised he was mostly just spreading the mascara around, “I’m sure it wont be the last you cry tonight. Unless of course you want to admit you’re nothing more than a desperate whore and beg for my cock.”  “I’m not begging,” you frowned, sure he’d be quicker to give in once he got close to your pussy.   Ben just smiled, “You will. For now I want you on the bed.”  You made to move down the hall but he stopped you before you made it more than a step.   “Wait. There’s a rule I have. Whores aren’t allowed to wear clothes past this point. I might make an exception for nice lingerie but not tonight. Not for you.” He didn’t even give you the satisfaction of stripping for him, pulling the zip of your dress down and tugging on your dress until it slipped down to join the mess of discarded menswear on the floor, quickly followed by your bra. “Mmmm,” he hummed as his eyes raked over your naked body, “Perfect. Bed, now.” A spank landed on your arse cheek and you hurried ahead of him, able to feel Ben’s eyes on your arse for the whole length of the corridor.  

The upside of being on the bed before Ben had even entered the room was that you had ample time to admire how good he looked without a shirt. You openly ogled him as he moved to the cupboard, taking a moment to dig something out, though his delicious back was blocking your view of what it was. Although your preoccupation with his naked chest also meant you weren’t as observant as you might otherwise have been. You were too distracted to notice him tuck something into his pocket, and you entirely missed it when he began speaking, only realising when he seemed to address you.  “-only fair I get to do the same to you, right?”  You blinked, knowing you’d missed something but not wanting to let on because you knew he’d be a dick about it.   As it was he raised his eyebrows and prompted you to respond, “Well? It’s a simple question. You’re not normally this ditzy, did sucking me off make you too horny to think?”  You shook your head, “No Sir, I thought it was rhetorical.”   For a moment you weren’t sure your gambit had worked but then Ben laughed, “Almost a shame you’re not so cockdumb yet. But maybe you’re right,” Ben strode around to the top right corner of the bed, squatting slightly to pull something from under the mattress, “My expectation was that you’d agree.” He grabbed your wrist and tugged it back, fitting a black loop around it.   As he tightened the restraint you realised what he’d been talking about. That this was pay back for when you’d tied him to the yacht’s bed. He’d been eager for it then, practically walked you through tying sailor worthy knots with the rope, but you couldn’t blame him for wanting to see you bound to his bed in the same way. So you just wriggled yourself into a little more comfort as he rounded the bed and restrained your other wrist too.   “Now what are you going to do to me?” you pouted at him coyly, feeling a little like you were poking a bear.   “I already told you.” he said, kneeling on the end of the bed, “I’m going to make you beg.”  That was when he revealed what he’d taken from his cupboard and tucked into his pocket. The vibrator wasn’t huge but it was powerful, making you jolt as he pressed it to your clit.  You squirmed but the wrist cuffs kept you from being able to move too far from its buzzing and you couldn’t help but moan as your long denied orgasm built.   Ben quickly stopped the toy, replacing it with his fingers, dragging them through the wetness between your lips, “Go on whore, tell me you want my cock in this needy cunt.”  You shook your head, biting your lip to keep from moaning again as his fingers entered you easily. He thrust them in and out of you a few times before bringing the vibrator back to your clit. Whenever Ben sensed you were getting close he’d stop touching you entirely. Sometimes even before you were close, preferring to hedge his bets and stop early rather than risk giving you the orgasm. It would undercut his dominance if you came earlier than he wanted, even if he ruined it. So he was careful with how he edged you. He alternated between his fingers and the vibe. When he felt you were enjoying yourself too much he’d intentionally ignore your clit. You’d be left with three of his fingers pumping into you, hearing Ben make pleased little hums when he found spots within you that made you whine or gasp. When that didn’t seem to be enough to make you give in he upped the ante, pressing the tip of the vibrator into you. It didn’t stretch you as much as his fingers (or his cock) did, but the patterns of vibrations when he turned it on made up for what it lacked in size.

While you’d already decided you’d let Ben have it his way, part of you still wanted him to have to work for it. Unfortunately, any ideas you had about withstanding his onslaught went out the door very quickly. You were way too worked up to hold out and the combination of his fingers and the toy he was fucking into your cunt had you begging in only a few short moments. At your first, “please Sir,” Ben laughed. “Embarrassing how easy that was,” he smirked, “I expected more but I guess you really are just one of my whores.” You whined as he removed the vibrator and his fingers, worried the edging would continue all night. “S’pose it’s about time I fuck you properly. Lord knows im stiff for it.” You watched as he undid his zip and finally removed his pants, his cock semi hard again, and you couldn’t keep yourself from begging again. “Only one question left. How should I do it? Flip you over and take you from behind?” He wrapped his fist around his cock and you whimpered as he stroked himself harder, “Make you ride me? I know how much you like being on top. Think I like the idea of seeing you under me too much for that. This time anyway. No, I know what I want.” His breath came a little harder as he moved onto the bed, cock still in hand as he pushed your legs open again. “I want you to watch me while I fuck you. I want you right where you are, tied up, incapable of dominating me. You’ll soon see how much you like it.” As he spoke he pressed against your hole, teasing you one final time before he finally gave you what you wanted. His cock slipped in easily, and Ben’s groan was nearly as loud as yours. At another time, with free hands and a clearer mind, you might have enjoyed that more, knowing Ben was as desperate as you were. But after so much edging and teasing, you could only focus on how good and full you felt. Ben’s eagerness extended beyond just sounds of delight too. Any plans he might have had to draw it out, go slow and deep to torment you more, went out the window as soon as he felt you clench around his shaft. His hips jolted forward, cock sinking into your audibly wet cunt, and he couldn’t help but do it again and again, falling into a rapid rhythm. Barely half his length made it in you, his thrusts too rapid to allow him to get much deeper, but it didn’t matter. The feeling of him dragging against your walls would have been enough, but Ben also added a thumb to your clit. He rubbed you messily, more concerned with how it felt to be inside you, but you didn’t need much stimulation to get close again. “Cum,” he said simply when you moaned about how good he felt. He fucked you through the first orgasm, praising you for being such a good whore, not even relenting when you were panting, no longer arching under him. “You’re going to cum again, sweetheart” he ordered, pounding into you with a particularly hard thrust that made your head spin. A slight breathlessness was the only sign he was at all worked up, which just added to his control, and all you could do was nod in agreement, sure you would cum as many times as he wanted no matter how hard it became. Ben chuckled, clearly pleased with how fucked out and compliant you were, but focused his energy into fucking you rather than any banter. You squirmed a little more, a touch sensitive after your first orgasm, but not uncomfortably so, and your second came up quickly too, your body eager for release after being denied it for so long. Ben didn’t last much longer either, the feeling of your cunt tightening round his cock again enough to undo him. He groaned more and more as he got closer, finally pressing himself as deep as you could take him as he hit his release with a satisfied moan.

Ben collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you comfortingly into the mattress as his lips found your neck. He was breathing harder now, the puffs of warmth tickling your skin.   You groaned as you tried to shift under him, your thighs aching from being spread open, but you found you couldn’t close them since Ben was still filling you.   “Uh uh uh,” he tutted into your skin, “Didn’t say you could shut your legs.” He pushed himself back up, leaning back to look at himself disappearing into you, “You look good like this.”  You shivered as he ran a finger around where you were stretched around his length, your wrists jolting in the bonds.   Ben remained thoughtfully silent for a moment, absentmindedly touching your pussy and your thighs, as he took in your dishevelled and restrained appearance.   “I think I want to see you cum again.”   “Again?” you whimpered, partly from his touch and partly from his tone.  He answered by reaching for the vibrator again, pressing it to your clit and holding it there until he’d forced a third orgasm from you, just because he could.  It was good but a lot, your body more sensitive now, and unable to move as freely as you’d have liked. There was no escaping the stimulation, no shifting your hips to change the angle of the vibrations or to spread them over more of your cunt than just your clit. You had to take it the way Ben wanted you to, the vibrators setting higher than you would have chosen, pressed firmly in place until your toes curled and your thighs shook.   Ben pulled out as you neared the climax, so that when you came he could watch his own release dribble onto the sheets, grinning cockily at the sight.  When he was finally satisfied, he turned the toy off and let you collapse, chuckling as he leaned over to free you from the restraints. Gently he rubbed your wrists, making sure you were okay as you gathered your senses.   “What was it you said about me not caring if my whores get off?” he asked, flopping on top of you again.  You wanted to come back with something clever but your brain was still too hazy to manage anything more than, “Oh shut up.”  “You beg real fucking pretty by the way. It’s obvious I’m the best you’ve had.”   You rolled your eyes at his smirking, the insufferable way he was speaking reigniting your desire to put him in his place, “Keep being such an ass and I’ll have to pick out a toy to use on you.” You squeaked as Ben cut you off, grabbing your cheeks so your lips were pushed into a pout.  “No. Eager and willing sluts don’t threaten their Sir’s. While you’re here, you’re mine,” his hand covered your cunt possessively, “I’m going to want you again tonight and I expect you to keep being the good girl I know you secretly love being.”  You swallowed thickly, nodding in his grasp.  Ben let you go and, as if to soften his words or placate you, added, “But maybe tomorrow I’ll let you tell me some of your silly ideas, see if you can convince me they’re more fun than fucking my new toy brainless.” 

☆ 1K CELEBRATION ☆ url edit for @queenmylovely

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500 Follower Celebration!

@queenmylovely !

Roger is your favorite, and he revs my engine too. ;-) Here’s Roger immortalized in his black-and-white striped turtleneck, in all his lo-fi glory (possibly even no-fi). “I’m in Love with My Car” is a great song, I hope it’s one of your faves too. And even if isn’t, you can look at the graphic and sigh over lo-fi Rogah and his wondrous blond cartoon locks. ;-)  

So! Based on what I found in your tumblr, I’m gonna close my eyes and make a couple of stab-in-the-dark recs for you. 

Aja by Steely Dan. Reccing the entire album (seven songs). I...think you might like this? Or at least one or two of the tunes...? Maybe? My favorites of theirs aren’t on this album; F.M., which I love, and Dirty Work, which I looooove. Any Major Dude Will Tell You is also good.

Walk Away Renee, by the Left Banke, covered here by the Four Tops. I love this song! Probably completely not your vibe, but possibly vibe-adjacent. :-) I’m reccing it anyway...and also the excellent original!

I hope you like them!

1.5K CELEBRATION | url graphic for @queenmylovely ☆

[no more, please]

Ooo could I ask about a directors cut of In the Wings? That fic has made me see John in a whole new light (@queenmylovely)

A director’s cut 😂😂 look, a couple of people have asked for a sequel to In The Wings, and I’ve always said that it won’t happen, just bc I couldn’t picture how it would go. Also, I think people were perhaps after a smut scene that involved far rougher elements than I’m comfortable writing 🤔😫 but for you, @queenmylovely, perhaps I could come up with a director’s cut...

Can you add me (@queenmylovely) to the tale as old as time tag list? I’m loving reading it💖

Absolutely! Thank you for reading, love!

Not only the hair, which is incredible, but the makeup??? AMAZING, I love the blue, and I appreciate the nose highlight, go off (@queenmylovely, Lauren lol)

oh my god LAUREN this made me gasp tysm 🥺💞

and yes the highlight was... intense and the filter makes it even more intense lolol

Congrats on 500! Can I get 9, 20, and 27 (fluffy) with my boy Pat? Thank you 💖 -@queenmylovely

thank you! 💗

9. “you have a tattoo where?” 20. “shut up and kiss me, you fool.” and 27. “it genuinely hurts to love you this much.”

the confessions

“you have a tattoo where?” you asked pat as you both sat in the red dust. it was after a game and pat was exhausted, so you both decided to bask in what was left of the summer’s day sun and sit on the field.

“it’s just on my wrist. take a look,” pat shrugged it off so nonchalantly. “just a number fifteen.” his number. at least it was something meaningful instead of just a tattoo.

“i love it.” you leaned over to look at. you were close to pat and it made your heart race. you and pat were just friends. best friend. and that was the problem. you wanted to be more then friends, but you didn’t know what he felt like.

“thanks.” he smiled and nodded, turning his head to the ground. he looked so cute sat in his dusty uniform. even after all these years, seeing pat in his uniform took your breath away. after the game, just before you went out onto the field, pat gave you his hat, saying you needed it more than he did. he thought you looked cute in his hat, but he wouldn’t tell you that.

a silence fell between you two, but it was a nice silence. as you looked off at the scenery, pat watched you, the sunset hitting you perfectly and making you look more angelic than ever. “it genuinely hurts to love you this much.” he mumbled.

“sorry, pat. what was that?”

“i said, it genuinely hurts to love you this much.” his voice was still quiet, but you caught every word that he said. you couldn’t stop the grin that appeared on your face.

“shut up and kiss me, you fool.”

and he did.

🤓 date? xx (@queenmylovely)

mmmmmmm ok let's say it's a warm Saturday morning in spring. I call you and ask if you're up for a walk, maybe check out some shops or a market. as we stroll down the street we pass a flower shop and I say "oh I just remembered I wanted to get some flowers for a friend. will you help me pick a bouquet?" so we head in, you ask me what kind of flowers my friend likes, I say "all of them, I'll let you pick" so you choose some, the bouquet gets put together, I pay, we leave. outside you ask me who the flowers are for and I say "for you" ♥️

let's go on a date!

heres a half finished thing that i havent actually titled yet. might as well call it "joe in a bar"

Michelle Peters sat at her regular table in Cat's Diner waiting for her regular order of a large black coffee and a carrot muffin with cream cheese icing. She loved her regular order. A hint of sweet in the muffin to wash out the bitter taste of the coffee that she had yet to grow accustomed to. 

Michelle had come to the diner to forget, actually. To forget her rotten ex-fiance that had cheated on her with one of the younger birds a couple floors down from their shared apartment. 

Instead of wallowing in self-pity in a bar like most people people her age did, Y/N liked to wallow in her own self-pity in the Diner just a couple blocks away from her apartment. 

"Michelle?" a sweet voice asked, coming from a bleached blonde waitress on the other side of the diner, near the kitchen. 

Michelle realized that it was her name that someone had called, and made eye contact with the waitress, giving her a flirty wink, and raising her right hand a little to indicate that it was indeed her that the order in the waitress' hands. 

The blonde hurried over. "'Ere yeh go, ma'am. that'll be a dollar fifty, please."

"Thank you very kindly," Michelle said as she handed over the change. 

Just as the waitress was walking back to the kitchen to help serve another order, a scruffy-looking man tumbled into the diner, letting in the cool New York City air flood into the small building. The man locked eyes with Michelle and slowly made his way over to her booth. 

"Hey," the man said, eyeing Michelle's muffin.

"Hi?" Michelle replied, only slightly annoyed at the man's presence. 

"I'm Joe," he said, sticking his hand out across the table to shake.

"I'm Michelle?" she said, still slightly miffed that this man she had met in a bar a week ago (Don't even ask why) was trying to strike up a conversation with her. She sipped her coffee, silently cussing because she burned her tongue. 

Michelle looked at the man, searching for a flaw in his face, and smiled a secret smile, because only she knew just how lonely she had been until he had plopped down at her booth.

A long, pregnant moment passed, and slowly, Joe became what normal people would call "hungry". He flagged down the blonde who had served Michelle a little while earlier, and asked the waitress kindly for the same order as Michelle. 

A few moments passed, leaving Michelle and Joe in complete silence, save the indistinct chatter at the other end of the diner where a family was sat, eating their supper for the day. 

Joe broke the silence, "Hey, Michelle. I never acquired your number."

Michelle blushed, and was about to write it down on a napkin, the waitress came barreling down the aisle with Joe's coffee and muffin. 

"Tha'll be a dollar fifty, please, kind sir."

Joe fished abouts his pockets and came up with a dollar forty. He checked his back two pockets, noisily bumping the table in the process, and heard a clinking sound from the floor. Joe reached down towards the floor, finally acquiring the final ten cents needed to buy the food plus an extra few pennies.

"Here you go, ma'am. Have a good day," Joe said, handing the money to the blonde. 

"Thanks ya bunches," she replied, and left with a smile on her face. 

"About your number," Joe said seductively, reaching towards Michelle's left hand, rendering her unable to write down her number, even if she tried, since she was left-handed. 

"Joe. I cannot give you my number," she said.

"Why not?" he replied with an ounce of shock in his voice.

"I'm left-handed, and you have my left hand in your grip."

"Oh," Joe said while he let go of her hand.

"Thank you," Michelle said, and proceeded to write down her telephone number. 

She handed the napkin to Joe. 

"Thank you as well," he said, and quickly added, "We could finish what we started a week ago," and raised his left eyebrow in a questioning way. 

"I'd like that," Michelle replied, quickly pecking Joe on the cheek.

Once Joe had finished scarfing down his muffin and gulping down his scalding hot coffee, he grabbed Michelle's hand, and quickly guided her onto the sidewalk outside the diner. He then walked to his apartment with Michelle in tow.

In his apartment, Joe pushed Michelle up against the wall in a flurry of lust, bringing her mind back to the bar a week ago when she was sitting all alone at the counter, nursing her beer when Joe had walked into the low-lying building and sending a cold draft of air across the large main room.

A shiver ran down Michelle's spine as she kissed Joe passionately

"Love?" Joe backed away. "Am I going too fast for your liking?"

Michelle looked at his face with an unrelenting gaze. "No," she replied.

"Oh good," Joe said, "I was a little worried there."

She kissed him softly. "You're perfectly fine," her mouth drifted down to his neck, his shoulders, his collar bones. Michelle started lifting his shirt, asking Joe permission with his eyes. He nodded, and his shirt was off, and kisses were being trailed down his stomach to his belt.

Joe gasped with each kiss, feeling as though his body was on fire by the mere act. He brought Michelle's face to his own and tangled their faces in a long kiss.

He pulled back for a second, only to ask for permission to take off her shirt and received a quick nod. Joe quickly undid the buttons to here shirt, falling just shirt of ripping them off.

Once Michelle's shirt was fully off, a gasp came from Joe's sweet mouth.

"You okay, Love?" Michelle asked kindly.

"Y- yes," Joe stuttered, unable to tear his eyes away from her breasts.

Michelle unhooked her bra and let it drop to the floor.

His eyes followed her every movement, ravishing every feeling on his skin. Joe took in the sight before him. Clothes strewn about his front hallway, Michelle missing her shirt and her bra, breasts beautifully framed with her long, dirty blonde hair. He saw her skilled fingers working on his belt, undoing the restraints on his rock-hard cock.

Michelle looked up at him, "You alright?" she asked because she noticed his lack of response.

"Uhh.... Yes," he groaned as his fully erect penis slapped his stomach, sending electric waves up his back.

She removed her shorts.

"Mmm," he moaned, letting his sexual desires get a hold on him. Joe pushed Michelle back to the wall in a surge of dominance, and kissed her roughly, letting her know she was his.

He grabbed her ass, pushing her even closer to him and kissed trails down her neck and bit her ear. Somewhere in there she let out a few delicious moans, which turned Joe on even more than he already was.

@queenmylovely heres half of it. ill finish it eventually.

A Different Kind of Eduation: R Is For Role Play (Chapter 12)

ADKoE MASTERLIST

Pairing: Professor!Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Series Summary: After being broken up with for not being kinky enough, Reader seeks out her professor to give her some private tutoring so she can win her boyfriend back.

Chapter Summary: Reader steps out of her comfort zone. Roger steps into the past. 

Warnings: Modern AU, smut (18+), slow burn romance, dom/sub dynamics, dom!roger and sub!reader, professor x student sex, dialogue heavy, degradation (slut/whore/etc), role play, PIV sex, a littlespanking, restrained wrists

Words: 8,007

A/N: I really make you wait for these don’t i lmao. Originally this chapter had more stuff meant to be in it but while writing it I realised it would end up ridiculously long and tbh I would rather give you 2 short chapters than 1 long one. I can’t make any promises about when the next chapter will be up but it should also be on the shorter side so hopefully that makes it a bit easier to write. 

As always *** indicates the smut scene.

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming@queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave@scorpiogemini

@80s-roger @libsterslobsters @okilover02 @cjand10 @dealorgirl32 @youngpastafanmug @onceuponadetectivedemigod @zeida @demo-wise@yuillfandomqueen @tie-ur-mother-down @rogermyreligion​ 

(idk how many of you are still interested in this fic so if you want your name taken off let me know, or if anyone wants to be added i can also do that)

Once again you found yourself outside Roger’s house, stomach in knots with nerves. Though not the usual nerves. You’d checked the curriculum before you left the house that morning, wanting to be prepared, and the one word that he’d used to describe that week’s lesson had been rolling over in your mind ever since. Roleplay. Somehow the idea of roleplay was more terrifying than all the bondage and spanking in the world could ever be. The arts had never been your forte, and the idea of acting and improvising and playing a character made you feel apprehensive and sweaty. But, you trusted Roger to not force you to do something you really hated the idea of, and so you let yourself in through the front door, as had become the usual custom. You were still providing drinks to accompany the dinners Roger made and, as soon as he saw you, he directed you to grab out a couple of wine glasses from the cupboard. You did so, trying to put your worries about the upcoming topic aside and just enjoy a nice meal with him. Briefly, you wondered if Roger could sense your uneasiness, his gaze settling on you like he was trying to read your thoughts, but then his eyes shifted back to the stove as he asked how your day had been and you gladly accepted the distraction.  

It wasn’t until you were settled at the desk in his study that you felt nervous again. “Okay. Tell me what’s going on, Y/N.” Roger said calmly. You cringed a little that he’d picked up on your discomfort so easily but tried to keep your voice steady as you asked, “Are we looking at roleplay today?” “Yeah, that’s correct. You don’t like the idea?” “I’m doing a biology masters Roger, I’m not an actor. I don’t really want to pretend to get pulled over by a hot cop or whatever.” Roger chucked, “Fair enough. But I’d have thought this would be one you were looking forward to since it’s going to lead up into CNC and all of that.” “It is?” “Mmhmm. I mean, Consensual Non-Consent is just acting out a non-consensual experience. It’s a little more hardcore than the roleplay we’ll start off with, but it is related.”   “Well, when you put it like that...” “A theory lesson can’t hurt, right?” “Depends. The last couple of theory lessons you’ve had me trying prac stuff. What exactly are we going to look at?” “Well, I was going to start off with something easy. We can talk about why people roleplay and go over some of the basic scenarios – the stereotypical stuff like cops and robbers or uh, teacher and student,” he looked mildly uncomfortable but moved passed it quickly, “nurse and patient, that sort of thing. And then we can get into some of the more niche things like petplay and ageplay and then in a couple of weeks, if you’re ready, we can get into CNC and free use and the more intense types of roleplay.” You hummed in thought, “That sounds okay. I am still a little nervous about the more practical side though.” “And what exactly is causing those nerves?” You shrugged, “I already said, I’m not an actor.” “Neither am I. What’s really the reason?” For a half a second you considered arguing that he did have a background in performing for crowds, just with music instead of drama, and so he shouldn’t be allowed to make light of your nerves. But in the end you decided that being stubborn about it would just make him push harder, “I don’t want to look stupid. And I can’t imagine not looking stupid while saying that ive been a naughty girl or whatever you’re going to want me to say.” You could feel your cheeks heat as you spoke and looked down to avoid Roger’s eye.   Roger hummed in thought, “Well, that’s fair enough. No one likes feeling or looking stupid. But, counter point, you don’t have to say anything as cliché as that if you don’t want to. And even if you do say something cliché, I promise it will not feel as stupid in the moment as it would if you said it now.” “Yeah I suppose so, but still.” “Anyway, we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s just focus on going over what roleplay is and how people use it in sexual situations. Okay?” You nodded your agreement, hoping that knowing more would help you feel less self-conscious.  

“Right, well, let’s talk about humans for a moment. We’re a creative species. We’ve been telling stories since before writing was invented, it’s in our nature to imagine, to fantasise. So, of course, it’s only natural that those ideas can become sexual. Imagining something allows people to explore desires in a way that’s safe for them, especially if it’s a desire they wouldn’t normally admit to out loud. Its why romance novels are written. Its why people seek out pornography of specific fetishes. So roleplay is a way for people take those imagined situations to the next level, making it more real by actively participating in it. There are a few different forms that roleplay can take. At the most simple it could be wearing a costume associated with a particular role, like a nurse, or with a particular character, like Princess Leia’s slave outfit.” “You’re such a dork.” “That outfit is hot. And it was just an example.” He paused to make sure you weren’t about to interrupt again, “It may just be that wearing the clothes of someone else is enough to satisfy the fantasy, but often there will be a bit more to it. A scenario. You take on those characters and act out a scene. The nurse gives a patient a physical examination, Princess Leia is held captive and tries to bargain for her freedom. There’s some sort of a story involved that the participants act out. And then finally, as an extension of that, there are the taboo roleplays. Things like pet play and age play and CNC. Taboos make people curious, and it’s very natural to think about taboo situations or acts. Roleplaying something taboo gives people a safe way to explore it. And it doesn’t even have to be particularly sexual. Sometimes it’s not about that, it’s just about being someone else, about the feelings you get or the connection with your partner in that unusual situation.” “That makes sense I guess.” “One interesting thing to note is that a lot of the “standard” roleplay scenarios are based in power dynamics,” Roger dropped his hands from where he’d made quotation marks, “a cop has power over whoever they arrested, a nurse has power over a patient, a doctor has power over a nurse. Maid’s serve, kings and queens command, the list goes on. So, why do you think that is?” “Because...Because it’s an easy place to start if you’re interested in dom/sub dynamics?" “That's absolutely part of it. It’s a great way to dabble with kink, to test the waters so to speak. But I think there’s another bigger reason that people, even very vanilla people, might be interested in roleplay. Power dynamics are so prevalent throughout our society. Everyone has a boss; everyone has had an experience with an authority figure. And it is human nature to take something mundane and create a story where it’s more fantastical, more interesting, maybe even less scary. Or, to create a story that switches the power.” “Huh. That’s a really interesting way of thinking about it." “Of course, sometimes getting into a roleplay is how people discover kinks or fetishes and they can be steppingstones to other power based BDSM practices. But I think for most people, roleplay is just something fun that lets them explore something different in an accessible and safe environment. I will admit I did consider starting you off with some roleplay stuff when I was working out the curriculum. I thought that dressing up as someone else might help you feel more comfortable exploring new areas.” “What made you decide to start elsewhere?” Roger shrugged, “I knew that CNC and those areas we’re building to would tie into roleplay and I didn’t want to get too close to them too quickly. And I didn’t want you to feel like you had to be someone else to enjoy any of it." “I think you made the right call.”

Roger smiled for a moment and then seemed to remember he was teaching a lesson, “Okay, Y/N, I want to posit a theory and I want to know what you think about it.” “Okay,” you said a little taken aback but intrigued all the same.   “I suggest that we’ve already experimented with roleplay.” For a moment all you could do was stare in confusion, “But we haven’t.” “What makes you so sure?” “Because we haven’t been playing pretend or dressing up as anything. What we’ve been doing is real.” Roger looked supremely pleased as if you’d fallen into a trap he’d set. “What if I said that roleplay isn’t playing pretend.” “That's literally what you just said it was. Costumes, pretending to be something you’re not.” “Well, okay yes, a lot of the time roleplay can be about that. And that’s why you can walk into any sex shop and find naughty nurse costumes or sexy school uniforms or, fuck, even a sexy Santa outfit. But that’s just a side effect of roleplay being a way to feel like something you're not. I could still pretend to be Santa with all the double entendres about presents and chimneys even without a set of suspenders and red knickers.” You giggled at the image he’d conjured but Roger mostly ignored you. “The costume just helps the suspension of disbelief.” “Okay, sure,” you said, still smiling at the thought of Roger dressed in holiday themed lingerie, “I don’t understand where you’re going with it though.” “Okay well, let’s look at these basic scenarios we’ve been discussing. They take something mundane or even a bit scary – medical check-ups, having a meeting with an authority figure – and turn them into something fun and sexy. And in the process the people involved can explore things that turn them on but that they might feel wary about doing in a non-roleplay situation. Things like being told what to do, or something a little further like handcuffs or punishment spankings. It allows people a chance to try being more dominant or more submissive or even more hyper-sexual than they let themself be in real life. Thus, it’s a way for them to achieve a different headspace or to feel something they wouldn’t ordinarily let themself feel. And isn’t that just what we’ve been doing too?" “No,” you knew you didn’t sound very certain, but you didn’t want to accept he’d been right too quickly. “Okay, let’s look at an example. Take Daisy and Jo and their slave/master dynamic. In real life, by law, you cannot legally own another person. They can call each other the right names, they can agree on who gets to make which decisions, they can put their names down on a slave registry, they could even get Daisy a barcode tattoo if they wanted to go that far. And yet, Daisy is still her own person, Jo doesn’t really own her. Daisy has a job, she has hobbies, she has a life outside of their relationship, and she has her own thoughts in her head, her own autonomy. And you heard how when that autonomy was taken from her in a previous relationship, it stopped being a kinky dynamic and turned into actual abuse. Daisy and Jo play around with things that make them feel psychologically as if one really is the other’s slave but, in reality, she’s not. So, in that case, roleplay is no less real than other parts of BDSM. Roleplay is just the closest approximation we can get to it being real before it crosses into abusive, illegal or dangerous territory.” “That’s a pretty extreme example though,” you counted, feeling as if you were in Roger’s regular classroom discussing the results of an experiment, “What about a stock standard bondage scene?” “I think it still fits. What a lot of people get out of a dom/sub dynamic is feeling control or lack-there-of, right? And isn’t the bondage just a vehicle for making the submissive person feel as if they have no autonomy or to feel as if they can’t escape? Or for making the dominant feel like they have total control over someone else?” “I suppose so,” “Obviously in a safe, sane, and consensual scene that can’t ever really be the case. The sub always has the right to stop things, to say no. There might even be a physical way for them to get out of the bondage if they need to. The ropes just make it feel less like they have the option to get out. Ergo, it’s a form of roleplay. And we can’t ignore spanking. That for most people spanking is intrinsically tied to discipline. That a lot of the ways spanking is portrayed or thought of, both inside and outside the kink community, is related to punishment. That probably the most common spanking scene imaginable is a schoolgirl being punished by her teacher. Dressing up in a short skirt and long socks and a white blouse and promising you’ll do anything for a better grade.” You swallowed thickly, very aware that you were sitting in front of your professor. Roger seemed almost as flustered as you felt as he paused. He plucked his glasses from his nose and began to clean them on his shirt hem, his voice a little quieter when he spoke again, “And you don’t even have to get that specific with it. Just the idea of spanking as punishment within a sexual scenario can be construed as roleplay. Chances are the person being spanked didn’t really do anything bad enough to warrant a physical beating.” He put his glasses back on and the tension from moments before disappeared, “And yet everyone involved pretends they did because they enjoy the act of spanking or being spanked and because it makes them feel secure in the dynamic they’ve built. The dom is in charge, the sub obeys, there are consequences for stepping out of those boundaries. They perform their roles, and it makes them feel good and sexually satisfied and bonds them.” “Fine, okay, maybe you’re right then. But if this was your attempt to make me feel less nervous about doing a roleplay scene in prac, it’s not worked. There is still a difference between the two...even if it’s not as clear as I thought it was.” “No, you’re right, I do think there is a distinction. But I don’t think that distinction is based on one being more real than the other. And really, it’s up to the individual to figure out where that distinction lies for them. But I also think that if we consider them essentially the same thing, or at least closer related than one initially presumes, it can help you remember one very important fact.” “Which is what?” “BDSM is a conscious choice. And to me, knowing it’s a choice offers so much more safety and security than considering it “real” does. Whether I’m acting as the dom or the sub, it's a reminder that everyone involved has actively chosen to be there and if that desire to be there changes, everyone has the option to say as much. Which ultimately makes things more enjoyable.” You’d already known that Roger cared about your safety and how much you enjoyed yourself, but you couldn’t help but be touched by his obvious enthusiasm for the topic and his sincere way of expressing it. It was something you hadn’t been able to properly appreciate when you first started your lessons, but the more time you spent with Roger, the more he voiced his thoughts on sex and BDSM relationships, the more you found yourself admiring him. It made you feel like you’d definitely picked the right person to learn from.  

“We have two options now. Number 1, we can keep going with theory and look at some more specific areas of roleplay, maybe more taboo stuff like pet play and age play. Give you a sense of where roleplay can lead and how different dynamics like that work. Or, number 2, we can discuss some options for a possible prac scene and, if we can settle on something we both like the sound of, maybe we could try it out. I’m going to leave it up to you though. Whatever you're comfortable with. Although I will say, I would feel better about exploring CNC with you the coming weeks if we’d played with a simpler roleplay before then.” “So I have to roleplay then.” “It doesn’t have to be anything big and it doesn’t have to be tonight. But, yes, I would like it if we did.” “Did you have any scenarios in mind for us to do in prac?” “Nothing picked out but I can offer some suggestions you might like.” “Okay, hit me.” Roger hummed in thought, “I mean, basically anything can be a roleplay scenario. 1950s housewife and her husband, royalty and their servant, strangers meeting at a bar, a couple engaging in an adulterous relationship. Even fictional characters are possible. Are you into superheroes? I could be uhhh, I don’t know, Batman? Save you from some danger and you’re so gratefully horny about it.” You snorted, “Maybe something else.” “Do you want to go with something vastly different from our actual lives or something that’s a bit more familiar?” “Umm, maybe something more familiar would be easier to do without feeling like a complete wanker.” “In that case,” he made a clicking sound with his tongue as he considered your options, “you could be the babysitter I hired to look after my kids. Orrrr, I could be a repairman fixing something for you.” You didn’t hate the sound of either of them but also weren’t totally sure you wanted to do either and made an uncertain noise in response.   “I suppose if you wanted we could do a teacher/student thing.” You shook your head, “That’s too much like real life, I think it’d make me feel weird.” “Okay, good,” Roger sounded relieved, “In that case...maybe something with a similar dynamic but less baggage... a boss and employee? You could be asking for a raise or something like that.” You shook your head again, though more out of amusement than disinterest. “There is always a doctor or nurse thing, we both know biology after all. Or, well okay, this one might be a bit weird but hear me out.” “Okay,” “I could be a rockstar and you could be my groupie.” “Oh,” “Is that a good oh or a bad oh?” “Neither I just wasn’t expecting it. But I kind of like it I think.” “Yeah?” “Yeah. I think I could be your groupie.” “Hanging off my every word,” Roger said suggestively, gesturing between you as if to say just like you are right now. “Willing to do whatever it takes to keep my attention.” “Something like that, yeah.” you laughed, “It seems doable.” “Alright, that’s settled then. So what sort of kinks would you want to include?” “Umm the usual stuff I guess, a little bit of degradation, maybe some spanking.” “Bondage?” “I don’t think I feel like that today. Not anything like ropes or cuffs, but I think I’d be okay with you physically holding my wrists or something.” Roger hummed in thought, “That all sounds very reasonable. Any thoughts to positions?” “Umm, not really. I’d be up for most things I think.” “I think I have some ideas then. Are you ready to get started now?” You were a little torn, the part of you that enjoyed having sex with Roger more than ready to go but the part of you that was apprehensive about acting was more in control, “Maybe a little more theory first. And maybe another drink.” “Okay,” Roger gave you a reassuring smile, “I’ll grab us a top up and then we can talk a bit about where we’re going with roleplay.”

When Roger handed you the glass of wine it was hard not to gulp it down in an effort to quell your anxiety.   “You know if you get too drunk we won’t be able to do any prac and we’ll have to come back to it another night. And I’d have to insist on full sobriety that time.” You narrowed your eyes at Roger and took a smaller sip before putting the glass down, “So what else have you got to teach me about roleplay?” “We might as well start talking about the more taboo forms. I mentioned age play before but I don’t get the sense Dylan is particularly interested in it, so I wasn’t intending on going into detail. All you really need to know is that it’s a form of roleplay that involves someone acting a different age than they are, typically younger.” You’d never seen Dylan look at anything like that before and he’d never mentioned it so you felt confident saying, “Yeah, I don’t think Dylan would be into that.”   “Okay, good to know. The other one I mentioned was, of course, CNC. But I don’t want to start on that until we can dedicate a whole lesson to it because it’s complicated and I want to make sure we cover everything. Which leaves just one other example I gave, pet play. How much do you know about it?” “I’ve heard of it, but I don’t really understand it.” “At its most basic, pet play is a kink in which one or more participants role play as an animal.” You dutifully noted down the definition, the familiar act putting you more at ease.   “Technically it comes under a wider umbrella of animal play, but I think pet play would be the more familiar term to most. There are those that engage in animal play as foxes or wolves or even mythical creatures like unicorns and dragons. But pet play as a specific subsection of animal play revolves around acting as more common animals like dogs and cats and horses.” “So, if it’s taboo and about animals, is it like roleplaying bestiality?” “No. Typically engaging in pet play is, like a lot of role play in general, more about exploring different behaviours and desires, than actually being an animal. Someone who explores pet play as a puppy might be attracted to it because it gives them a space to be playful and bouncy and loose. Or it might be because they really like the dynamics involved in being trained to do something. Whereas a someone roleplaying as a kitten might be interested less in the training and more in physical affection while still being able to play and scratch and bite.” “Uh huh,” you weren’t totally sure you understood it, but it did make pretending to be a groupie sound less daunting. “The other thing with pet play is it’s not always about sex. It’s a fun way to show and receive affection – being petted or groomed, curling up on their partner’s lap, playing silly games, just being looked after.” “That does sound kind of nice.” Roger smiled, “Yeah, it can be. But we can get more into that another time. For now, let’s just stick to human role play.” Roger frowned at his phrasing for a second and you couldn’t help but snort and roll your eyes.   “There’ll be none of that when you’re my groupie,” he playfully scolded, giving you a little wink, “Are you ready?” You took a nervous breath, “as I’ll ever be I think.” Roger gave you an affectionate look, "Give me a couple minutes to get a few things ready and then meet me in my music room.”  

*****

As soon as Roger left you reached for your glass again, downing the wine quickly. You poured yourself another half glass and drank as you thought. Groupies. You understood the basic premise and you could see the appeal in sleeping with band members, in an abstract sense. But you weren’t sure how much of what you knew was even close to accurate. You were mostly going off depictions you’d seen in fiction. Roger definitely knew more about it than you did, even if his band had only lasted a short while. So what would he be expecting you to say? How would he expect you to act? It made your stomach twist uncomfortably and you put the glass of wine down. You didn’t feel much like a groupie. Glancing down at your outfit you thought you probably didn’t look much like a groupie either. But maybe you could fix that, at least a little. Roger had mentioned costumes and outfits as a way to help feel more comfortable in a role play scene so, grabbing your bag, you ducked into the nearest bathroom. There wasn’t a lot you could do with your clothes but thankfully you’d taken to wearing skirts whenever you had lessons. The one you’d chosen fell just above your knees, but you were able to fold the waistband over itself a couple of times to shorten it. The shirt was a little harder to alter since it wasn’t a button up. You experimented a bit with tying it up at the hem but didn’t really like the effect so instead settled for just taking your bra off underneath it. The material was thin enough that Roger would probably be able to see your nipples and that definitely sounded like something a groupie would do. You touched up your makeup and applied some lip gloss you found at the bottom of your bag, and then as a finishing touch you shook your hair out to make it seem a little messier. Looking at your reflection you decided that at least you'd been able to do something to alter your appearance. That was when you heard the drumbeat, Roger’s signal that he was ready for you.  

He didn’t seem to be playing any specific song, at least not one you were familiar with, but the beat did make you feel a little more at ease as you headed toward the music room. Something about the background noise made it a little easier to believe your roles. And seeing Roger made it easier still. The door was ajar as you approached it, but you knocked all the same, pushing it open nervously. You noticed the flannel shirt immediately. It must have been one he’d had for a few years because it seemed worn and faded and a little tight around his upper arms. It was completely unbuttoned, his bare chest visible, and you were immediately reminded of the band photo that had been so popular on the university meme pages.   Roger grinned when he saw you, not even attempting to hide the up and down look he gave you as he twirled his drumstick between his fingers.   The movement immediately caught your eye, and you couldn’t help but be turned on, even though you still felt a little silly standing in his doorway.   “Can I help you?” Roger asked when you didn’t say anything. “Oh, um,” you could feel your cheeks warming as you tried to think what to say, “I just wanted to tell you I loved the show.” You cringed a little at what you’d come up with, feeling it was a little cliche, but it must have been alright because Roger responded with a lazy smile.   “Glad to hear it love. How’d you get backstage though?” You heart stopped for a moment as you internally panicked. Why had you spent so long on your appearance without spending a single moment preparing a backstory or anything useful to say.   “Don’t over think it, you’re doing great,” Roger said, dropping the cocky rockstar act and nodding in encouragement. And then, as quick as it had gone, the rockstar was back as Roger relaxed into his seat again, spinning his sticks absentmindedly. “How’d you sneak in?” “No one stopped me,” you shrugged, unable to come up with anything better on the spot. “Well it’s a good thing. I love talking to fans.” His voice dripped with innuendo, and you found yourself swallowing hard in response.   "I was hoping you’d want to...talk. I’m such a big fan.” Roger beckoned you towards him, “Close the door, love, I’d hate for our chat to be interrupted.” Your stomach did another flip, although a much pleasanter one, as you stepped further into the room. It helped that Roger seemed so at ease playing his role. You could easily imagine him playing for a crowd, flushed and sweaty as he banged out a beat. Even now with shorter hair and more of a dad bod, if he announced tomorrow that he was quitting teaching to go back on tour you would have no trouble believing him. He just looked right behind his drums. Not to mention hot as hell.   “Do you want to touch it?”   “Touch what?” you blurted, worried you’d missed something while you’d been distracted by the thought of a sweaty Roger pounding away at his drums. “My kit of course,” he laughed, grabbing your hand and bringing it to one of the cymbals, “You seemed pretty enamoured with it.” “Oh, yeah, it’s um bigger up close than I was expecting.” The cymbal felt cool under your hand but you had to assume that was partly from how warm you felt, embarrassed both at the cheesy line you’d just said and that he’d caught you daydreaming.   “Not the first to tell me that,” he replied with a wink and an easy suggestiveness that made you feel somehow even more warm. “I could show you how to use it.” “I’d love that,” you gushed, not entirely pretending. The drums did seem like fun.

You let Roger lead you around to his side of the kit, his hands settling nicely on your hips as he guided you to sit on his lap. The whole situation made you feel giggly and for a moment you forgot it was role play, wondering at when you’d got so bold as to hit on a rockstar but glad that it seemed to be working. And it definitely seemed to be working if the semi pressing into your backside was anything to go off. You suspected you were not the only one who’d felt the need to get rid of underwear. Roger’s breath hitched softly as you wriggled against him and he quickly guided his leg between yours, putting you on his thigh rather than his lap. You didn’t mind so much though, especially when he shifted, and his thigh pressed up into your cunt. Roger’s hands meanwhile were also moving, rising up your sides, the light trail of his touch making you shiver and your stomach clench with anticipation as he neared your breasts. You nearly groaned in disappointment when he pulled them away too soon and heard Roger chuckle in your ear as he reached for you hands instead. He pressed the drumsticks against your palms and then wrapped his hands over yours, guiding your movements to bang out a simple beat. The drumming was fun but it was hard to focus when his hands felt so warm and large against yours, and his breath tickled the side of your neck.   “You’re a natural,” You grinned, feeling quite pleased with yourself, until you gasped when Roger pressed his foot down on the kick drum pedal and you bounced on his thigh unexpectedly.   “Too fast for ya?” he asked cockily. You turned your head to try to see him better, “No, I’m a quick learner.” “Well show me what you’ve got then.” His hands moved down to your hips again, pulling you snuggly against his chest. It was enough of a distraction that he had to prompt you again, leaving you flustered as you hurried to comply.   “Harder than that, love,” He said when you produced a much quieter sound than he had, “Really pound it.” He emphasised the word with another stamp of his foot. Your second attempt was better but apparently not quite to Roger’s standards because he grabbed your chin to make you look at him again.   “Do you need me to show you how?” Words completely failed you so you just nodded, your stomach in knots with anticipation, practically able to feel the wet patch growing against his thigh.   Roger’s gaze flicked down to your lips as you both held the moment for a second longer, and then he was surging forward eagerly. His hand moved to your neck as he claimed you, his other still at your waist though his grip had tightened to keep you in place.   The drumsticks clattered to the ground and you couldn’t help the little moan that slipped out into his mouth, finally having an outlet for all the tension that had been building since you entered the room. The sound just made Roger smile, his lips quirking cockily against yours as his hands began to roam, down your thighs, pushing your skirt higher, toying with your undies.   “Don’t need these,” his tone making it clear you should have left them in your bag with your bra, as he pulled them down your thighs.   You raised yourself a little to help him, feeling as if you had to make up for wearing them in the first place. Roger seemed pleased with your initiative, or at least pleased that he could easily access your pussy, his fingers slipping between your lips. “So wet already,” he half moaned, two fingertips toying with your entrance.   You gasped again as he worked both digits into you, pausing a moment when he was around the first knuckle so you could adjust. But he didn’t wait long before he drew them back a little and then pushed them in deeper, and then again, clearly impatient to get you ready enough to take his cock. You were growing impatient too, your head still spinning from his kiss and from how good just his hand felt between your legs. “Rog please,” you whined, trying to sink down on his fingers, though the position made it difficult, “‘m ready.” “Yeah? Ready for my cock, huh love?”   You nodded and groaned, desperate to convince him as he continued fingering you.   Roger just chuckled, “Of course you are. It’s the whole reason you came here, isn’t it. To be fucked by a rockstar.” You nodded quickly, ready to agree to just about anything he said.   “That’s what I thought,” he almost growled as he drew his zipper down and freed his cock. His hands came back to you then and you let him guide you to stand, shifting around so that when he pulled you back down, you were aligned with his cock rather than his thigh.   You moaned as his tip breached you, his cock stretching you much more than his fingers had. But it was a very good stretch and one you were more or less used to by now. You didn’t even mind that he didn’t give you time to adjust, just kept pulling you onto his lap, making you take his whole shaft much quicker than he usually would.  

When you were finally seated fully, legs between Rogers’, your skirt rucked up under his palms, and your pussy stretched around the base of his shaft, both of you moaned almost in unison.   “Fuck, love,” he groaned against your ear, “taking me so well.” The praise made you squirm, and Roger moaned again as you tightened momentarily around him.   “Jesus. Whores like you are my favourite part of this job.” He managed to get out through his heavy breaths. You whimpered, continuing to wriggle in place, Roger’s hands still grasping you making it unclear whether or not you were allowed to move.   “You don’t need to tell me I’m the best you’ve ever had, I know I am.” Roger chuckled, the cocky rockstar act back in full force, “So why don’t you show me how grateful for my cock you are and ride me.” You didn’t need to be told twice, placing your palms against his legs to help steady yourself as you began moving as best you could. You never let too much of him escape your heat, raising up just enough and then dropping your arse back into his lap. As you found a good rhythm, his hands began to wander, squeezing your breasts through your shirt at first, though he quickly pushed the material up until your chest was exposed and he was free to grope you as much as he wanted.   “That’s right, fuck yourself just like that,” he growled, “feel amazing on my cock, love.” The praise only made you moan more, especially since he said it like you were lucky to be pleasuring him at all. But you knew that, despite the attitude, he really meant what he said. He was breathing hard against your neck, making you shiver as he let out little moans each time you sank down on his shaft. And then there was the drum. Roger’s foot was still on the pedal and whenever you tightened around him enough or moved at just the right angle, he'd jolt like he wanted to spear up into you and a sudden stuttered bang would sound. You chased the sound of the drum almost as much as the sound of his moans, both making it seem like he was losing control, like you were cracking through his arrogant attitude.  

But Roger wasn’t going to make it too easy for you. Whether because he was intent on finishing his lesson or he was just so lost in how fucking hot the groupie roleplay was, you couldn’t tell. It added up to the same thing though. He pulled your arms behind your back and gathered your wrists together in one hand.   You whined and halted your movements but Roger tutted at you condescendingly.   “Is my cock too much for you? Maybe one of the other girls could handle me better.” You shook your head, “No, I just-” “Shhh love, I don’t care. Just ride me.” You whimpered but that seemed to amuse Roger more than anything.   “Already admitted you came here for my cock and believe me, love, you’re not the only one. So do what I say or I’ll find another slut who’s willing to do whatever I want.” The thought of him kicking you out before either of you finished was nearly as distressing as the thought of him replacing you with someone else. You quickly began moving again, trying to get back into a good rhythm. It was harder to ride him without the leverage your arms had given, relying on your leg muscles alone as you raised and lowered yourself. But the struggle just made it all the hotter. And Roger must have agreed because he groaned again, even though you couldn’t manage to move as much as before.   “Such a hot cunt,” he moaned, “don’t stop.” You whined as you felt his grip on your wrists tighten but didn’t dare stop riding him even though the effort was making you pant and your thighs were beginning to burn.   Roger’s breath hitched as you next sank down, “M-might have to keep y-ou around all t-tour.” He grunted. The thought made you moan and you found yourself hoping he meant it, hoping you could accompany him on the bus and share his hotel rooms. As if reading your thoughts Roger grunted, “Fuck you when-whenever I want. Y-ou’d like th-at.” It wasn’t a question but you answered anyway, a breathy, “yes,” falling from you as you desperately tried to keep fucking down on Roger’s cock.   Thankfully your unexpected response had an effect on Roger. He let your wrists go suddenly, growling as he manhandled you off his lap. Pushing you to stand, you felt yourself bent forward over the drum kit as Roger took over fucking you.   You braced yourself as much as you could, the drums rattling a little as you leaned on them. Mostly you were just glad your legs were getting a break, and thankful that your cunt was being stuffed at a faster pace. All you could do was moan at how good it felt, and brokenly plead with Roger not to stop. It was perhaps the loudest you’d ever been with anyone, not just Roger, but it wasn’t a conscious decision. They were not the sounds expected from a science major who was in the middle of a sexual awakening with her professor. They were the sounds of an eager groupie. Unashamed and unapologetic.  

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.” As if to prove that he was in charge, Roger paused, holding your hips so tight you couldn’t even squirm on the cock filling you, "Fucking cockwhore, aren’t you love?” You whined but nodded. Roger just chuckled and then picked up where he’d left, one hand moving up your back to hold in you in place as he railed into you, one hand slipping down to rub your clit sloppily.   The tension in your stomach nearly had you sobbing, so close to orgasm, and without worrying about how you sounded, you began begging Roger to make you cum. It nearly pulled him from the scene. He’d hoped you’d get into it, lose your inhibitions and enjoy playing pretend, but he’d not expected to hear anything so wanton from you. He miraculously kept the rhythm of his thrusts, but momentarily lost his voice, managing only a moan at your desperation and then a croaky, “You gonna cum?” It wasn’t nearly as commanding or demanding as he’d been moments before, but he cleared his throat and said it again as a statement rather than a question.   You were too far gone to notice the slip, nodding in answer to both. Roger’s lapse passed and he lay a spank against your arse, “Words, whore.” “Y-yes, yes, ‘m gonna cum. Fuck, please.”   He spanked you again, chuckling at your pussy’s response, before moving back to your clit, his fingers more deliberate this time. “Go o-n then love,” his breathing was heavier, strained from the effort of fucking you as well as his own approaching climax, “Cum on m-y cock and I-I’ll give it to you e-every night – of the tour.” It didn’t take much more than that and the pleasure crashed into you, Your legs trembling as Roger kept fucking you.   He was swearing at how tight you felt, managing to get out half formed thoughts about how desperate for his cum you were and how jealous the rest of the band would be that you’d gone to him. To an observer it would have been unintelligible gibberish. So, it was probably good that you barely registered it, much more concerned with how it felt as Roger came too, his hips pressing against you, his cock pushed as deep as he could get it, filling you with his warm cum.  

*****

You came back to yourself, still bent over the drum kit, still full of Roger’s cock, his heavy breaths hot on your skin as he gently stroked your arm. The embarrassment came quickly after that, your skin burning as you cringed at everything you remembered saying. Roger pressed his lips to the back of your neck, “I’m gonna pull out now, okay?” You nodded, half wishing he’d stay put just so you could avoid looking at him for a bit longer.   But he didn’t. He hissed a little as he eased himself from between your legs, apologising when you reacted similarly, and then turned you around, cupping your face in both palms as he kissed you properly, on the lips.   You tried to push your embarrassment aside and enjoy the kiss but it was hard to do when you kept thinking about how ridiculous you must have sounded. In fact, you were so caught up in your head that you didn’t even notice the sound of Roger’s fly being done up or him gently pulling your underwear back up your legs. “Thanks,” you mumbled when you realised, his palms warms where he smoothed the fabric now on your hips, grateful that he’d thought of it before cum started dripping out of you. “Guess I should clean up.” Roger caught you around the waste and shook his head, retaking his seat as he guided you onto his lap again. Only this time you were facing him so he could kiss you more.  

By the time he pulled away you were feeling marginally better, telling yourself if you’d been too much of an embarrassment, he wouldn’t want to make out so soon.   “See, wasn’t that fun?” he asked, his knuckle brushing against your jaw. You made an evasive gesture, “I guess so, yeah.” “C’mon, you can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it when you got so into it.” “I really wasn’t expecting that. I must have sounded like an idiot.” “What? No.” Roger seemed perplexed by your statement, “Try insanely sexy.” “Really?” “Absolutely Y/N. You were perfect. I knew it was going to be fun the moment I saw you’d altered your outfit. Because that meant you were going to give it a proper try.” You smiled shyly, “It was fun.” “There we go, yeah it was!” “I assume it’s not always like that though.” “No,” he shook his head, “I mean, it depends. Sometimes you can be fully emersed in the scenario like tonight, and sometimes you know you’re both just saying lines. But that doesn’t make it less hot. Would you want to experiment more with role play?” You thought about it for a moment, “I guess I’d be open to it.” Knowing Roger, you were sure he’d ask for more details so hastened to add, “I am a little curious about how pet play works now.” Roger seemed surprised, “I was meaning like trying other scenarios – the nurse thing maybe, or... but yeah, if you want to know more about pet play I think I can teach it.” “Oh, I- fuck,” you buried your face in Roger’s neck, feeling likely to die from embarrassment if you opened your mouth again. But Roger just chuckled, rubbing your back softly, “It’s good that you told me, Y/N. I want to know what you’re curious about.” “I guess so,” you said managing to lift your head high enough for Roger to press his lips to your temple, “I'm just curious how it works because it sounds a bit weird. Especially after tonight, cause like, I imagine it’d be harder to feel fully immersed in the scenario when you’re pretending to be an animal. It’s so different from pretending to be a groupie.” “I love that you’re curious. I’ll have the kids from Thursday night until Sunday but, if you want to, we could do this again tomorrow or Wednesday to fit in a bonus lesson about pet play. Would that work?” You nodded, managing to meet his eye briefly but looking down again as you said, “Wednesday would work. And maybe, if I don’t want to try pet play we can do the nurse thing instead.” “That’s a great plan,” Roger smiled, gently tilting your head up so he could kiss you again.   You melted into him, almost disappointed when he stopped. It might have just been a projection of your own feelings but you got the sense that Roger didn’t quite want to stop either.   All the same, he did, his hands lingering. “I should let you go and clean up.” “Yeah,” you nodded, “I should probably be going soon.” It was at least another thirty seconds before his hands left you and you stood up.

Day 1: Baking

pairing: Roger Taylor x fem!reader 

warnings: cussing, brief allusions to sex 

words: 446

a/n: here we go! short and sweet to start bc I'm already 2 hours behind lmao 

Next, Full List 

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“Alright, babe, now as soon as this cream is hot enough, we’ll add it to the chocolate chips and mix it up and the ganache will be ready to dip the cookies in,” you said, diligently keeping your eyes on the warming cream. “Don’t you just love orange and chocolate-- Roger!”

Roger looked up at you, eyes wide and mouth full of chocolate. He just looked startled, not even having the decency to look sheepish as he continued chewing.

“Stop, oh my gosh! Roger, we needed that chocolate for the cookies! Why do you think it was on the counter in a bowl? Measured out?” you asked in exasperation.

He took a full 15 seconds to finish chewing and swallowed before saying, “...Can’t I just measure out more?”

You rolled your eyes, “That would be perfect, except that was our last bag of chocolate chips.”

This time, Roger did look sheepish. He stayed still for a minute and then walked over to where you were leaning against the counter.

He lowered his head so he could look up at you with puppy dog eyes, “Can I kiss it better?”

You couldn’t help it and you laughed, shaking your head, but still moving your hands to his face and bringing it close to yours, “Only if you go to the store and get me more.”

Roger frowned, “But it’s cold outside and there’s so many better things we could do with that time before Freddie’s party,” he turned his head to kiss your palm. “Besides, aren’t orange shortbread cookies good enough on their own?”

It’s obvious what he’s trying to do, and on many occasions, you would have let him make it up to you with soft kisses, on your mouth and elsewhere, but since these cookies were something you had been promising the others you would bring, these specific cookies, you had to sigh and say, “No, no baby, you need to go to the store.”

Roger pouted because he had already been thinking about the ways he could make it up to you and had been getting excited. Then another second went by and he brightened up, “This is gonna be the fucking fastest pop down to the store there’s ever been, and when I get back, I’m making it up to you. I don’t give a fuck if we’re late to Fred’s party.”

You laughed again and he cut it off with a quick, breath-taking kiss that tasted like the chocolate he had been eating. Roger pulled back and pressed another little peck to your lips, and by the time you took a breath and opened your eyes, he was halfway out the door.

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Could I get a url thingy 💫 the ones you’ve been doing are so pretty 💖 (with @queenmylovely tho lol)

Hiiii thank you for requesting. Here it is. I hope you like it! 🥺❤️

💎 pls! (@queenmylovely)

💎- favorite trope to write for

Oh this is a good one! Okay so I really love the roommates trope but then that started to get a little too personal and hit my feels lmao but I also like to write modern AU and enemies to lovers!

Happy birthday Tina!!! Hope you have a great day 💖 (@queenmylovely)

thank you, dear!! 💗

Hello! Can I be added to the tag list for the bachelorette fic? my blog is @queenmylovely ty 💖

Absolutely, love! Thanks for reading!!