18+ SMUT

Chapter three timothee chalamet (smut)

He said he saw it in a window in a small shop in France, strolling by and bumping to his music with a large pair of sunglasses to conceal his identity. Deep blue, silver jewels and sequins on the bra, lace panties to match. He had stood there for several seconds thinking it over, and the image of you wearing it was enough to make him go inside. He knew he would regret it if he didn't.

"I have a surprise for you, mon amour," he said, twirling you in a small circle. Late night, spring outside, red wine and pajamas. His hair was so messy, you couldn't get enough.

"Yeah?"

"Come with me," he purred, taking your hand and pulling you to your bedroom. The destination made your heart sputter with excitement, warmth spreading through your bones.

Shutting the door behind him, Timmy moved through the room to his bureau and leaned down to dig around the bottom drawer. You sat on the bed and leaned back on your hands, watching his ass with a grin on your face.

"You look good from this angle."

He laughed as he pulled a small, delicate bag out. "Thank you."

"Ooh, gimme!" You giggled and stretched your hands out, wiggling your fingers.

He beamed, his face lit up like the God damn sun, you took the bag and kissed him, sliding your hand into his hair.

"I love you."

"I love you. Open it."

Tugging the tissue paper out, you gasped and pulled the lingerie set slowly from the bag. The silver sparkled in the lamplight, and you turned it this way and that to admire the color.

"It's beautiful," you breathed, setting it down on the bed.

"Wanna try it on for me?" His tone was suggestive, daring, confident.

You nodded eagerly and ran to the bathroom, stripping and laughing with joy. He was suddenly at the door.

"What's so funny?"

You slid the bra into place and adjusted the underwear, smiling at the door.

"I'm just happy."

"Me too." You could hear the smile in his voice as he moved back into the other room. Placing your clothing in the laundry bin, you looked at yourself in the mirror, spinning slowly.

Damn, I look fine.

Emerging from the bathroom, you walked into the bedroom and shut the door behind you. He was already staring, pupils blown, a tent in his pants. Standing slowly, he closed the distance between you as his eyes bounced around your figure. They lingered in more places than others.

"My imagination does this view no justice. Spin for me? Does it fit?"

"Mhmmmmm," you nodded, turning in a sultry circle and waving your hips about. Timmy stepped back a little to take you in, shaking his head.

"My girl, my girl, my beautiful girl," he breathed, sitting slowly on the bed and staring with awe.

You wiggled your hips and did a little dance for him before straddling his waist, pushing him backwards. He pulled you down on top of him and kissed you passionately, openly, his tongue tasting of wine. You kissed him back and rocked your hips down into his core, drawing cries from his mouth to yours.

Rolling on top of you, he tugged his shirt over his head and unbuckled his belt, pants gone, he lowered his head between your legs and kissed your heat, once, twice, licking slowly up the fabric. You grabbed his hair and yelled his name sharply.