Smarty

Give her inches, and feed her well

Vance is being mean again.

He leans against the kitchen table, arms folded over his chest. His eyes narrow with thinly-concealed impatience.

you advance, never the one to make the first move, but tonight is different. He wants it mean and nasty, wants to make you bend the knee and break apart for me. He's mean to make you come closer, make you come closer in the hopes that he'll let you come undone. With his mouth or his fingers, it doesn't matter, just so long as something of him is inside of you.

you place your hands on the table behind him and lean into his bulk, practically breaking your neck trying to place a kiss on the side of his jaw. Vance doesn't bend the knee. He doesn't even move. He barely breathes. He just lets you kiss him, lets you press your hands on his chest and lean into his warmth, lets you do everything tonight. He feels lazy. He wants you to do it tonight, do it all.

You slide the leather of his belt through the loops and let it fall to the floor, clanking loudly. It's a good thing no-ones home. It's good to have a quiet house, good to have quiet neighbors, not nosy ones that peer through the cracks in the fence and pray they'll see something sinful.

Vance grits his teeth together, nostrils flared. you reach down into his jeans and grasp his dick, squeeze it firmly with warm, soft fingers. Vance bridles at the contact but stays silent. You stare at his face for a reaction, but aside from the tick in his jaw, the big blue eyes that don't sweep shut, there is nothing.

Stoic, stone-faced, he watches you touch him, waits for you to bend the knee and take him deep in your throat.

you won't do it, yet. you want him to beg for it. you want to break him the same way he breaks you. it's a pity that breaking him is impossible. Vance will shatter you like glass and leave you to glue back the pieces. Perhaps, if he's feeling generous, he'll help. Vance will take you into the shower and wash the shame away. Vance will pry you apart and kiss you, all tongue and sharp teeth, and he will make it hurt. That is what loving him is; a delicious hurt; ultraviolence in the most beautiful way.

you press a tender kiss to the underside of his jaw. Vance remains unfazed. you give him another firm squeeze, ghost your nails along the underside of his dick, and feel him fill out in your grasp. Thick and long, pink-tipped, you drag your thumb across his dick and smile, lips against his throat. You lick the sweat away with rosy-red pleasure. Vance bites down on his bottom lip.

"say something." you snarl, but it sounds like a plea.

Vance narrows his eyes and lets his arms fall slack. you pull your hand out of his pants. Vance steps forward to let you pull down his jeans, and you spit on your palm to slicken his dick. His abdomen flexes, muscles tightening as your fingertips brush against the sensitive seam on his length. His dick is heavy in your grasp, hot and hard to the touch. you circle your wrist and listen to the short, half-swallowed sighs that escape your boyfriend's mouth. He shoves his hips upward brusquely, body betraying him.

you grin a little, tuck your hair behind your ear, and press another kiss to his cheek, then on his collarbone. you roll up his white vest, fingers digging into the cotton, and kiss all over his toned torso, sucking dark marks onto his honeyed skin. Vance swallows thickly, broad chest heaving. His grand plan of staying statue-still and making you beg for it is falling through. He can't help the whine that threatens to leave his lips.

"you doin' okay, baby?" you breathe, brushing your thumb across his sensitive dick.

Vance says nothing. He might moan, but he won't speak. He wants to make you burn for his words, he wants you to beg for it; beg like you always do.

you continue jerking him off as your lips ghost lower. eventually, you go down on your knees and look up at him through your lashes. His cock twitches. you stick out your tongue and lick along the long, warm underside of him. Vance pushes forward but you place your hand on his thigh, stop him from shoving any further and spoiling the slow pleasure you intend on bringing him.

His nostrils flare with frustration but he doesn't reach for you. He leans back against the table and grips onto the sides, knuckles taut, skin stretched tight and white over bone. you swirl your tongue around the tip of his dick and then swallows him down, teasingly slow, inch by inch, ever so gently, until he bucks into your mouth and fills it to the brim. you gag on his dick. Vance knots his fingers in your hair and jerks forward, cock pulsing. At that shuddering movement, you shove him back against the table, away from you, and stand up, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Vance's face contorts with confusion and anger at being denied. "What the fu-"

you practically climb on top of him and crush your lips against his teeth. Vance grabs your waist and you clamber on-top of him. He falls backward over the table, flat against the cold wood. you grind down on his dick, swiveling your hips at a painfully slow pace. He tries to get up, grasps your hips hard, but you shove hard against his chest and he falls flat, the wind knocked from his body.

"You want me to beg for it, baby?" you tease, planting your foot on his chest. "is that what you want?"

Vance stares at you, eyes wide.

you capture his chin between your thumb and forefinger. "I'll be good for you when you be good to me."

Vance swallows hard, the apple in his throat bobbing. He wasn't expecting this. Nothing could have prepared him, nothing.

you remove your foot from his chest and straddle his hips. Vance twitches underneath your body, eyes big and blue, wide as saucers. His cheeks are rosy-red. His dick pokes against your inner thigh and pulses. you grab his cock and guide it into your pussy, spreading your legs further and settling your knees on either side of his hips. you take a sharp intake of air and shakily rock forwards, rolling your hips around on his dick. Vance grips onto your hips and matches your shuddering pace, thrusting upwards into your dripping cunt.

You look down at him and know it's pointless. It's pathetic. You can't break him like he breaks you. You can't make him beg. You love him too much.