Insight
Pairing: Tom/OFC
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I don't own anybody and as far as anyone knows, this never has and never will happen and no offense is meant at all
Warnings: sexual scenes, language
Summary: She's not you, none of them are.
I open the door and pull her in - her greeting is short, I smother her words with my mouth, I don’t know why she bothers to talk at all. They all want to talk, even though they know why they’re here.
It’s just sex. I don’t even know her name - Jessica? Jennifer? Something with a J, but I’m calling her ‘Sweetie’ and ‘Honey’, candy coated names - generic, they’re all the same to me. I don’t care. This one has dark hair to her shoulders, my eyes close as my fingers run through it and I pretend she’s someone else.
But she’s not you.
She pulls her shirt over her head and I’ve got her bra off in two seconds; practice makes perfect. This will be rough, fast. She tries to kiss my neck but I’m pushing her down on the bed and she looks confused - I hate that look, I never said she was anything but a toy to me, she was fine with it before she came up to my room - but I’m not looking at her face anymore. I’m pulling at her pants, skin-tight jeans that I have to peel off like a second skin, and I think of how much better you’d look in them.
But she’s not you, and I’m not thinking about it now - she isn’t wearing underwear underneath her jeans and I’m glad for this little sign - maybe she’s slutty enough to skip the faux innocent act and go straight for the goal. I’m in a hurry and not in the mood for protests.
I have a date to keep.
She’s biting her lip and moaning as I push inside, not bothering to get her wet first but she doesn’t seem to mind, her fingers are claws in my shoulders and she’s trying to fucking kiss me again. I bury my teeth in her neck and she throws her head back, mistaking my gesture for passion - it doesn’t matter, she’s given up trying to put her lips on my face and I’m not complaining.
I give the clock a quick glance and thrust harder, my cock pulsing inside her tight pussy - maybe she’ll come with me, maybe she won’t - it’s none of my concern. This is about me and my needs, and what I can’t get from you I will take from her. She sees this as a gift, she is special; she is the chosen one, at least for tonight and I know she’ll run off and tell her friends, I don’t give a fuck. No one will believe her anyway.
That’s it, stay still. I’m pounding into her rigid body as fast as I can and it’s working - in the dark, her black hair covering her face, it’s almost as if… but I’m done and I’m coming and she’s screaming with her arm over her face as I spill into her, shaking her hips roughly until I pull out.
I wish she’d stop trying to kiss me.
It’s over and I throw her a towel, the one I used last night to clean myself up after the pair of blonde girls left, and I watch as she gets dressed to make sure she doesn’t take anything that she didn’t come in with.
She smiles coyly and asks just like they all do and I tell her yes, of course, you were great, the best, incredible, and she’s satisfied so quickly that I reward her with a hard kiss on the mouth. Her eyes close halfway and she grins that stupid grin and I’m telling her goodnight, I’ll call her tomorrow if I’m going to be at that bar again, but of course I won’t and I think she knows it.
It’s almost six o’clock - she’s got to get out so I can get ready. She gets it, she’s gone and I slam the door shut and lock it twice just to be sure she understands she’s leaving for good - sometimes they stand by the door until I come out but I am pleased when the peephole shows her wandering wobbly-legged down the hallway.
I’m tying my Nikes when the phone rings - I know who it is before I answer it.
It’s you.
I’m sorry I’m late, I lost track of time and I’m grabbing my jacket right now and I’ll be down to meet you in five minutes. Yes, I’ll bring your jacket too. No, I’m not carrying your man-bag downstairs. Dammit - no - okay fine, I give in like I always do but not until you promise me that I can pick where we eat dinner.
Yes, I know I’m the best big brother in the world; I’ve got to be - because I can’t be anything else to you. This is what I have, this is what I’m doing, and it’s all about you.
I am not ashamed.
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I don't own anybody and as far as anyone knows, this never has and never will happen and no offense is meant at all
Warnings: sexual scenes, language
Summary: She's not you, none of them are.
I open the door and pull her in - her greeting is short, I smother her words with my mouth, I don’t know why she bothers to talk at all. They all want to talk, even though they know why they’re here.
It’s just sex. I don’t even know her name - Jessica? Jennifer? Something with a J, but I’m calling her ‘Sweetie’ and ‘Honey’, candy coated names - generic, they’re all the same to me. I don’t care. This one has dark hair to her shoulders, my eyes close as my fingers run through it and I pretend she’s someone else.
But she’s not you.
She pulls her shirt over her head and I’ve got her bra off in two seconds; practice makes perfect. This will be rough, fast. She tries to kiss my neck but I’m pushing her down on the bed and she looks confused - I hate that look, I never said she was anything but a toy to me, she was fine with it before she came up to my room - but I’m not looking at her face anymore. I’m pulling at her pants, skin-tight jeans that I have to peel off like a second skin, and I think of how much better you’d look in them.
But she’s not you, and I’m not thinking about it now - she isn’t wearing underwear underneath her jeans and I’m glad for this little sign - maybe she’s slutty enough to skip the faux innocent act and go straight for the goal. I’m in a hurry and not in the mood for protests.
I have a date to keep.
She’s biting her lip and moaning as I push inside, not bothering to get her wet first but she doesn’t seem to mind, her fingers are claws in my shoulders and she’s trying to fucking kiss me again. I bury my teeth in her neck and she throws her head back, mistaking my gesture for passion - it doesn’t matter, she’s given up trying to put her lips on my face and I’m not complaining.
I give the clock a quick glance and thrust harder, my cock pulsing inside her tight pussy - maybe she’ll come with me, maybe she won’t - it’s none of my concern. This is about me and my needs, and what I can’t get from you I will take from her. She sees this as a gift, she is special; she is the chosen one, at least for tonight and I know she’ll run off and tell her friends, I don’t give a fuck. No one will believe her anyway.
That’s it, stay still. I’m pounding into her rigid body as fast as I can and it’s working - in the dark, her black hair covering her face, it’s almost as if… but I’m done and I’m coming and she’s screaming with her arm over her face as I spill into her, shaking her hips roughly until I pull out.
I wish she’d stop trying to kiss me.
It’s over and I throw her a towel, the one I used last night to clean myself up after the pair of blonde girls left, and I watch as she gets dressed to make sure she doesn’t take anything that she didn’t come in with.
She smiles coyly and asks just like they all do and I tell her yes, of course, you were great, the best, incredible, and she’s satisfied so quickly that I reward her with a hard kiss on the mouth. Her eyes close halfway and she grins that stupid grin and I’m telling her goodnight, I’ll call her tomorrow if I’m going to be at that bar again, but of course I won’t and I think she knows it.
It’s almost six o’clock - she’s got to get out so I can get ready. She gets it, she’s gone and I slam the door shut and lock it twice just to be sure she understands she’s leaving for good - sometimes they stand by the door until I come out but I am pleased when the peephole shows her wandering wobbly-legged down the hallway.
I’m tying my Nikes when the phone rings - I know who it is before I answer it.
It’s you.
I’m sorry I’m late, I lost track of time and I’m grabbing my jacket right now and I’ll be down to meet you in five minutes. Yes, I’ll bring your jacket too. No, I’m not carrying your man-bag downstairs. Dammit - no - okay fine, I give in like I always do but not until you promise me that I can pick where we eat dinner.
Yes, I know I’m the best big brother in the world; I’ve got to be - because I can’t be anything else to you. This is what I have, this is what I’m doing, and it’s all about you.
I am not ashamed.