show me yours | matty healy

show me yours | matty healy

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing8h 16m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, Mar 16, 2024
He lifts his hand, slowly tracing his fingers up her arm until they reach her face leaving goosebumps and a warm trail behind. Then he moves just his pinky finger across her cheekbone, dragging along until he pulls the stray strands of hair behind her ear. She's silent, holding her breath as her eyes stay on him, only him, and he whispers, "Show me yours, I'll show you mine."
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WARNING: This story contains explicit sexual content. Not recommended for precious little eyes. Please remember to practice safe sex always and don't fall in love with boys like Matty. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- My middle finger scrolled through the questions on my laptop, tapping loudly in annoyance. "Do you find yourself interrupted by sexual thoughts or desires as you are completing mundane daily tasks?" I asked him. Matty's index finger was tracing the square of his jaw now, which was atypically speckled with perfectly symmetrical stubble. I noticed every detail about him, the curve of his lips, the slant of his brows, the itty-bitty moles scattered on his face. "Sometimes," he answered. "For example, today, I was thinking about you in the shower, about how nice it'd be to fuck you against the glass door." I grinded my teeth together and clenched my hands tight. "Matty," I said, trying to be as firm as possible. "Those kinds of comments are inappropriate." Especially because I was imagining the same thing this morning, and for him to have been doing the same thing, it floored me. "You said to answer as truthfully and honestly as possible, Jones," he shrugged, toying with his hair. "My turn? Am I frustrating you, darling?"

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