So, 2017 is going to be a big year for you and Tom: New house, Homecoming premiere, wedding planning, oh and there's that whole illegitimate daughter coming to visit. Not a damn thing could possibly go wrong! The sarcastic, sweet, and sexy saga con...
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Happy birthday, baby," Tom whispered in your ear. Your eyes popped open and you rolled over to see that gorgeous face grinning at you.
"Am I dreaming?" you smiled, blinking at him. He shook his head then leaned in for a long overdue kiss.
Tom pulled away, smacking his lips.
"Nando's?" he asked. Your hand flew to cover your mouth, embarrassed by your morning breath.
"Hey! I wasn't expecting a snog this morning," you said lightly slapping his chest. He grabbed his chest and winced theatrically like you hit him so hard. Dork.
"I'll just have to kiss you in other places," he said cheekily, wiggling his eyebrows.
You laughed and pulled him on top of you for a yummy hug. He was still in his jacket and cap. Too many clothes for your taste.
"I thought you weren't due back until tomorrow?" you said, nuzzling his warm neck. He smelled like coffee and his cologne mixed with a little sweat and it was like a fucking 900 on the sexy scale.
Tom took his cap off and tossed it next to you. His hair sprung out with so much boing, it'd put Tigger to shame. But not Tigger. Tiger. Your soft and chiseled and sweet and sexy Tiger.
"You thought that because that's what I told you," he gave an mischievous grin then rolled over on his side to face you. What's this little fucker up to?
You propped yourself up on an elbow to face him.
"Tom..."
"I know, I know, but sometimes surprises can be a good thing, babe," he grinned.
You scooted closer and went back to nibbling on that nummy neck of his. Homeboy was just so tasty.
"I've got presentssss," Tom said in a sassy voice. You lifted your head with a childish grin.
"Presents?!!" you whispered, pulling the sheet up to cover your stupid smile.
Tom hopped off the bed and disappeared into the living room. You sat up, cross legged and rubbed your hands together. Suddenly all the stuff you said about no presents and no surprises went out the window. Tom was clever enough not to listen to you. Love that kid.
Tom appeared in the doorway loaded down with bags.
"You didn't bring all that back with you?" you asked, scoping out the goods he plopped on the bed.
"No, I got these weeks ago," he laughed and jumped into bed next to you.
"Tiger, this is too much," you shook your head, "You already got me a Ducati for fucks sake!"
When it was all said and done, Tom got you a custom motorcycle helmet, painted to look like the green scales of a certain mermaid. He got one for himself too ("We can take turns with the bike, right?" he suggested). His was fashioned in Spidey's likeness, of course. He also got you bath stuff like you asked, an AC/DC tee shirt ("Now you can stop taking mine," he said. "I'm still going to take yours, Tiger," you replied with a quick kiss). There was a Spider-Man shot glass for your whiskey, a pair of Spidey boy shorts ("Please wear these now," he growled. You obliged.), your favorite Dior scent, a leopard print Gucci clutch, and the icing on the cake - a hired housekeeper who'll come twice a week to clean up after you and your dirty little boy toy. You threw your arms around him for that one, and pulled him on top of you.
"Thank you thank you thank you!" you chanted, peppering his face with kisses.
Tom laughed and pulled himself off you, sitting back on his heels. He took his jacket and shirt off (Daaaaaaaaamn, you thought) and crawled back on top of you. He hovered over you, his face only an inch from yours.
"There's one more present for the birthday girl," he whispered and his eyes bore into yours with such heat you thought your new Spidey panties would melt right off. But it was just his fingers, pulling them down.
You bit your lip coyly.
"And what's th -"
But before you could finish, Tom grabbed the back of your knees and yanked you to the edge of the bed. You gasped at the swiftness and ease in maneuvering you. He knelt in front of you, placing hot, steamy kisses all along your inner thighs. You stretched back on the bed and took a deep and elated breath. He wasn't kidding. Tom's tongue is not only a present, it's a gift from the motherfucking gods.
His lips traveled so close to your wetness, but he pulled away before he could get a taste. You glanced at him, imploringly.
"Make a wish," he smirked. You smiled slowly and leaned your head back.
"I wish Tom Holland would stop teasing me and give me a mind blowing orgasm," you laughed impatiently.
Tom blew softly on your sweet spot. You shook from the sensation and gave an audible gulp. Closer his slips came, blowing a steady stream of air that made you squirm and fist the sheets with a little moan.
"Tom," you panted, "Please!"
He chuckled to himself then finally ran that titanic tongue of his across your entrance.
"Oh shit!" you squeaked and gripped the sheets even tighter. He worked you up so much with his teasing that one long lap nearly sent you through the roof.
Tom continued with his mouth, nibbling softly fiery flesh with the determination to make your birthday wish come true. He slipped a finger in and explored inside while his tongue licked faster. You hands flew to his hair and twisted his curls with a louder moan.
"Tommmmm," you breathed his name and gulp at the air. Your back had lifted off the bed while to tugged those curls tighter.
Tom hooked his paws around your ass and violently shoved you against his face with a guttural growl.
HO
LY
FUCK
He devoured with beastly zeal. His face was entirely buried inside you. All you saw were those fucking curls and all you felt was that fucking tongue and all you wanted to do was fucking come.
But then he hooked another finger inside to graze your g-spot and instantly your body exploded with a vision vibrating, eye rolling, leg shaking, mouth watering, mother fucking mind blowing orgasm, just as you wished.
