F o r e w a r n i n g.
This story contains various mature topics such as sexual content, violence, drug usage, vulgar language, etc.
All Rights Reserved via Princemisfid✨
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It wasn't often you found yourself as flustered as you currently were, seated between your father and his best friend Brad at a weekly dinner night in your home. Conversation flowed easily, you obviously, did not contribute much. The occasional nod and giggle when Brad made a joke or quiet praise of the food when your father asked you what you thought.
You see your father was a film director. Movies, tv shows, plays you name it, he's done it. Brad has been in a few of your dad's movies over the years.
So why is it that you were feeling a steadily growing ache between your thighs in a place completely inappropriate for the thoughts running in your head?
It's because Brad Pitt aka the most eligible bachelor of your town, all long lean legs and disproportionate shoulder to waist ratio, who had all the men and women fawning and tripping over their own underwear-
Was rubbing his denim-clad thick thigh over your bare one. Each pass of the rough material against your soft flesh made a shiver rack up your spine and arousal pool in your panties. He knew what he was doing to you, with his stupidly handsome face acting nonchalant when you sent him a glare, sometimes he didn't even look back at you, just shovel another bite of food into his mouth and groan appreciatively.
The relationship you had with him was weird, you two had never... done anything persay. Save for that one time earlier this year in July when he pushed you up against the side of your house when your dad was throwing his annual summer barbeque and he kissed you.
It was so dirty, the thoughts and fantasies you had about him. You both know if your father ever found out he would serve Brad's head on a silver platter. But that didn't stop you from dreaming about what it would be like to have his fingers pressed up in places you have never been able to reach, or his head of perfect golden locks between your soft thighs or his manhood pounding into you making you scream loud enough he has to cover your mouth with one of his thick hands and grunt into your ear, "Shut the fuck up, don't want your dad to hear you being a little slut for me do ya?"
A worried call of your name pulls you from your vivid daydream and you're snapped back to reality with everyone's concerned stare on your squirming body, including Brad.
Your father places a hand on your shoulder, looking at you with question when he asks, "Is everything alright honey?"
You bring a hand up to your forehead as if wiping off sweat and you respond "I don't feel very good, I think I'm gonna go to my room."
The table sighs sadly, calling out to feel better soons. And just as you're about to leave the room your dad calls for you to wait, and you see him whisper to Brad. The man nodding his head before getting up from his place at the table and making his way to you. You watch in a trance as he stalks over to you with a knowing smirk on his face, and you barely register your dad's words before Brad is ushering you up the stairs with a gentle hand on your back.
What the fuck?
You're about to ask what Brad was doing because you were fully capable of walking yourself upstairs and second of all the only reason you made that excuse was so you didn't have to deal with him anymore. What about that did he not understand?
Apparently none of it when he pushed you up against the door of your room, what is it with this guy and pushing you up against doors?
But that didn't matter, not anymore because his warm breath twinged with whiskey was fanning over your face, deep blue eyes pouring into yours filled with desire and something dark.
Whatever it is it makes you squirm where you're trapped between the hard muscle of his body and the door. It's silent for what feels like eternity, he's studying your face, searching for something... hesitance? A sign that you don't want him here.
He finds none, instead he feels the wet spot on your panties drip onto his jeans.
He makes sure you watch as his wrist moves to lock the door and you gasp softly with the sheer intensity of him. The click echoes in your bedroom and it almost solidifies what will no doubt be happening today. Months and months of tension finally reaching its breaking point and ready to erupt.
"Do you want this?" He finally breaks the silence, and you fear that he could hear your heart thumping in your ears.
You nod your head, eyes glossed over already and legs wrapped around his slim waist and pulling him impossibly close.
You attempt to tug him towards you by the collar of his shirt but he doesn't comply, "I need words sweetheart. Because I've been waiting way too long to do this and if you don't want something I need you to tell me."
A boost of confidence overpowers you, your fingernails dig into his back, pressing his broad chest flush against yours.
"I want this so bad, please fuck me Brad." You drawl sweetly, voice so seductive it makes Brad buck his hips up.
With that he crashes his lips onto yours, all fire and passion and he easily claims his dominance over your body. Brad Pitt is a good kisser, you already know this. His lips are soft and unrelenting and a soft moan slips past your lips at the familiar vision of his pink lips sucking your clit, drawing orgasm after orgasm from you and not stopping until he's reduced you to nothing but a mess of slick and wanting and desperation.
He swallows the sound with his mouth and takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, groaning quietly as he pulls you off your door and carries you two over to your bed, your arms wrap around his neck both for purchase and to satisfy the need of having him invade your senses.
He throws you onto your plush mattress, your body bouncing a little at the contact and Brad's hand goes to palm at himself over his boxers because you already look so ruined and he hasn't even started.
Your thighs are rubbing together to quell the pressure building in your core, he looks so much bigger than you like this. He sits down at the edge of your bed, wrapping a hand around your ankle and using it to spread your legs open; eyes closing in bliss when your scent wafts into his nose. He couldn't wait to devour you.
"Please!" You whine, now unable to bring your legs close together to find some relief and you felt so vulnerable like this.
"Please what little girl?"
A strangled moan elicits from your chest at the pet name. It was so wrong, so incredibly wrong, but his lips pressing kisses against your leg felt so right.
"Don't make me repeat myself."
You always assumed he would be dominating in bed, he just had that aura. And god you really weren't expecting it to swing out full force like it had because you had been with two... sub par men before him. And from what you had seen- felt pressing against your thigh, he was certainly no less than well endowed. And from the few whispers you had heard around town...
"I- I want-"
And yet for all your fire you couldn't bring yourself to say the lewd words, please Brad? Please fuck me until I'm sobbing and ruined for any other man.
