Smarty

When you wanna get trashed and have fun, i'm here

A/N : Part 1 features aggressive oral sex, male recieving. It also has a short implication of female recieving, so Please don't read if you aren't comfortable with curse words, aggresion or any thing with sexual themes. Stay safe my lovelies <3

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Vance's hands were clenched into fists. The steel rings he wore cut into his fingers. His knuckles were bone-white, the skin stretched taut over bone, and his lower lip was caught between his teeth. His eyebrow was split down one side and his nose was bloody. He hadn't bothered cleaning up after the fight, just came to you as he always did and told you to get on your knees, said he needed you, "I need you real bad, baby."

Vance swallowed hard, the apple in his throat bobbing, as his nails left little half-moon indents in the palm of his hand, coarse and calloused, still dirty from working at the auto-shop. He leaned deeper into the wall, the base of his skull pressed firmly against the cold brick, as his knees slowly gave way, He threaded his fingers through your hair, tugging at the strands, pulling hard enough to hurt. Always enough to hurt, but never enough to make you stop swallowing him down, taking everything he ever gave you.

Vance tilted his chin up in the air, eyes swept close. He wanted to look at you, wanted to see your mouth around his dick, wanted to see the ring of red lip-gloss left behind, but he wanted it to last. He didn't want to finish faster than usual, he just wanted to focus on how good your mouth felt, how good your hands felt planted against his thighs, how good a girl you were to him.

"Fuck." he said, pressing his tongue to the back of his teeth. "Fuck, that's it."

Vance swallowed down a moan, and pushed it down, deep in the back of his throat. His mouth was parted in an expression of awe. He was beautiful, blonde hair falling across his forehead, lips pink and chapped from nervous chewing, a hickey you'd gifted him barely hiding behind the white wife-beater he wore.

"Keep goin'." He practically whimpered, knees buckling. "So fuckin' close."

A trail of saliva pooled in the corner of your mouth, trickled down the sides. You grasped his thighs, dug your nails into the denim of his blue jeans, and dipped back down. Swallowing, sucking in your cheeks, eager to please, always eager to please him, you licked a long trail from shaft to glistening tip, then swallowed him down again; 8 inches stretching your jaw wide open.

Vance whined and tried to play it off, groaned low in his throat, swallowed down the bitterness of humiliation as pink tainted his cheeks. He fucked your mouth with sharp, sudden jerks of his hips that made the back of your throat sore, as a bead of sweat broke out across his pale forehead and dribbled down the side of his temple. You glanced up at him, eyes wide and bleary, mascara streaky, breathing through your nose and fighting the urge to gag, to choke on the stiffness of his dick. Vance glanced down at you, eyes dilated with desire, and bit his lip bloody before the moan escaped his mouth. His hips jolted forwards, cock pulsing, and he spilled inside your mouth with jerky thrusts, losing his rhythm upon coming undone.

You swallowed fast and rocked back on your heels as he let go of your hair. Vance's cheeks were tainted pink and he took a second to steady himself before sliding his hands under your arms, dragging you to your feet and crushing your mouth with his. He slid his tongue down your throat and tasted himself on your tongue, loved the idea of something that belonged to him slide down inside of you.

"I love ya." He said, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck. "I love ya, i do."

You let him manhandle you, liked that he was strong enough to do so. You let him move you like a doll, shove you against the wall and spread you apart, legs over his shoulders, hands in his hair. Vance rucked your skirt above your hips and kneaded at your thighs with his ring-clad fingers, the blood from his mouth smearing across your mound.

"tell me you want it." He snapped, shoved his face in your cunt. "tell me you want it, or i won't do it."

His mouth was better than yours. He knew your body better than anyone ever could. You would have done anything to make sure he spread you apart and sullied your flesh, over and over again, until you were sore and stinging and raw, ruined for anyone other than him.

"I need you, vance, i do."