Eddie Munson Imagine

20. having sex with eddie to dazed and confused by led zeppelin

both of you stoned as fuck, drunk on each other, one of his mixtapes playing in the background that was pretty much forgotten the moment you started making out. neither of you planned on doing anything like that, really; it was supposed to be a fun evening of smoking weed, maybe a little drinking, and eddie teaching you to play guitar. sex, funnily enough, was the furthest thing from either of your minds; but you never even got past smoking before the chips began to fall.

eddie was the one who started it, the fucker. he absolutely insisted that the two of you shotgun as usual, and you figured that would be innocent enough. eddie took a hit, held it, brought his lips close to yours, and you thought that would be the end of it. but instead of just keeping your lips a small breath apart, eddie kissed you deeply with the smoke still in his mouth, slowly transferring it to you in that manner. you drew back, looking at him with a hazy smile despite your surprise at this new method. he looked uncertain, as if maybe he worrried that you didn't like it that way, but you were determined to set him at ease. you enjoyed it, you could tell that he enjoyed it too, and you were soon grabbing him by the vest to crash your lips together again.

you were soon tangled up in each other, completely intoxicated by how good everything felt. hands & lips wandered, clothes were ripped off and thrown onto the floor of his room, and moans & pleasurable sighs passed between you as you kissed each other senseless. he ended up hoisting you onto the table where his mirror was, moving some stuff to the floor so that you had enough room. your back was pressed against the posters on his mirror, his mouth & hands teasingly exploring your body as your head fell back. the music in the background and effects of the pot made you feel wonderfully blissed out, and you knew that you were in for a hell of a good time tonight.

he is so painfully hard after he makes you cum on his tongue, and he can't take it anymore. he needs to be inside of you; he craves it like a drowning man craves air. dazed and confused is playing now, and he fucks you slowly and lazily. one hand is braced on the mirror, the other holding your throat as he kisses you deeply & messily while his moans fill your mouth. your hands are all over his back, legs clinging to his waist as he increases speed and then slows, increases and slows, repeating those movements throughout. he's throbbing inside of you, sometimes hitting right into your sweet spot in time with the song's rhythm. both of your hands eventually find his hair, grabbing hold as he brings you even closer to his body.

and when your climax hits, he just holds you closer still. your body twitching, arching, slick with sweat & your own cum, head an absolute mess of drugs & sex & eddie. the song is still playing, and when it's his turn, he kisses you passionately and makes sure to cum as deeply inside of you as he can. he's a beautiful disaster of tangled, sex-messed hair, of flushed skin and swollen lips, of lusty eyes and stoned smiles. you can't stop admiring him, and the lovely part? he can't stop staring at you, either.

you never listened to dazed and confused the same way ever again.