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Late Night Feelings

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For his worst nights, her door was always open.

The usual routine involved her babying him. With open arms, she would welcome him within her embrace. She’d coo, lend an ear, drink with him, smoke with him—do anything to help him de-stress. That was their dynamic. No matter if they’re on and off relationship was damn on or way off, her door was always open for him.

But on this particular night, she double-locked her front door. No cooing. Just her footsteps walking away from him before he could give her his puppy dog eyes.

Sorry, Waititi. Not tonight. She thought to herself as she got up to her staircase. What can she say? She was beyond her limit. Not only did he ghost her and left her puzzled on where they were in their relationship, she also had to find out about his fresh new squeeze on “E! Tonight.” How embarrassing.

Biting her tongue to hold back her rage, she ignored the man waiting for her downstairs. She already gave him too many shots and second chances. She’s done with being a charity case. No matter how she melts for his eyes, how his smile can make her “aww” without missing a beat, and how she knew that he’ll be the best she ever had—it would be a hard pass for her tonight.

Knock. knock. knock. She heard him once again.

On cue, her phone vibrated on her pocket. She grabbed opened the text. “I know you heard me,” it read. Rolling her eyes over his desperation, she shove her phone back to her pocket and rushed downstairs. No babying this time. Just rage, rage, and more rage.

She flung the door open and there he was; tired beyond all reason, his hair filled with more grays than his dark brown locks, eyes strained from God knows what. He could barely look at her in the eye. He was wiped out and he couldn’t hide it. He wasn’t trying to either.

Upon seeing him in such a state, all of her spite took a backseat. She wondered what caused this. Too much deadlines? Writer’s block? Overpartied? Her resting bitch face was still on full blast, yet her eyes betrayed her by filling itself with worry.

A part of her wanted to ask, but she knew she had the upper hand on this. She stewed there in silence with her arms crossed. The silence was deafening. Neighborhood trees rustling and cicadas singing would’ve been a perfect backdrop for a relaxing evening. However, it doesn’t pair well with palpable tension.

He opened his mouth to say something. Once he did, she left the door opened and walked toward her living room. Like a lost kitten, he followed almost immediately. They knew the drill. No use to wallowing in small talk.

She sat on the couch, while he sat on the arm chair. When he got settled in, she walked to the kitchen to grab two glasses and a cheap bottle of scotch. She plopped down as he leaned to pour themselves a shot. Resting her feet on her coffee table, she observed his body language, arms crossed and brows furrowed.

“I needed this,” he murmured as he drank a shot straight, pouring himself one more in an instant. She quirked her brow and drank slow. “You needed a kick in the balls too,” she huffed. “But you only get one act of kindness from me tonight.”

He rubbed his chin, nodding in agreement. He deserved that. He knew it more than anyone else. What can he do? Shit, he wasn’t innocent. He fucked up. Too bad the only person he could pour his heart to was the person he broke.

“I’m sor—“
“—No, no, no.”

Finally, he got the courage to look up at her face. She was fatigued but not as bad as he was. In her own way, she looked radiant. She always looked amazing to him. He could’ve had her. He did have her. If only he’d stop self-sabotaging, maybe he wouldn’t be feeling so worn out.

“We’re not doing that,” she said in a cold tone. “Tell me what happened, so you can fuck me and leave.” She was direct. Too direct to the point that her words were straight daggers. It took prisoners.

“Hey—“ He pointed her glass to her direction. “—You don’t get to do that,” she cut him off. Shaking her head, she drank her alcohol straight. She slammed her glass on the coffee table and took the bottle.

Opening it, she drank down to the label. The liquor cut through her yet she fought through it. “Look…” he got up from the chair and took the bottle away from her. “I don’t wanna fight,” he told her, almost pleading. He knelt before her and looked up at her face. “I just… need you. Right now.”

Placing his head on her lap, he relished her warmth. He was desperate for her touch. She was too, but she kept her needs at bay. Touching her exposed thigh with his lips, he slowly made his way up to the hem of her satin shorts. His touch made her quiver. Biting her lip, she tried to fight a moan from coming out.

“I missed you…” he mumbled, parting her legs with his head. Once he had more space to work with, he started licking the damp spot forming on her shorts. He got eager when he realized he can still make her melt for him.

Wanting to see her come undone, he obediently licked, parting the cloth of her shorts so he could finally taste her. He heard her soft moans echoing from earlier. But once his tongue got a taste of her, that’s when she pulled him away slowly by his curly salt and pepper locks.

“No,” she tutted. “You don’t get to do shit tonight.” Her eyes locked on his. What he saw wasn’t the sweet girl he could always turn to. She’s long gone now. It flickered with lust, a tinge of greed that only she knew how to satiate.

She stood up from where she sat. He didn’t move an inch, vulnerable and unsure where she was going with this. “Aww,” she cooed. “Look at you all confused.” Mockery dripped from her mouth. Perplexed with the sudden bravado, he wondered in silence what came over her.

She was never the type to play with his ego—no matter how vulnerable he gets. Swallowing thickly, it bothered how much it threw him off his game. But the growing hard on concealed by his sweatpants said otherwise.

Letting go of his locks, her hand moved from the back of his head, tracing her fingers on his cheek down to his chin. “You miss how I taste?” she lifted his chin. He nodded in compliance, craving the taste of her dripping pussy, the sensation of entering her walls, the bounce of her tits and ass as she got pounded from behind. He was desperate and she wanted to play.

“Well…” she tutted. “Get to work then.”

A part of him wanted to contest her, challenge her dominance. However, he entertained the thought that this might be exactly what he needed. He need to be relinquished of control. Maybe turning his brain off and letting desire take over wasn’t such a bad idea.

Without breaking his gaze as she domineered over him, he bit the garter of her shorts. She hid her soft gasps perfectly when he started pulling it off by his teeth. The scent of her cunt already dripping and warm for him was undeniably inviting. Sticking his tongue out, he closed his eyes and went to work.

But before his tongue could have a taste, she stopped him from going any closer. His frustration was building up. Getting teased and depraved were not his strongest suits.

“Poor poor baby. So hungry and needy,” she pouted. He felt his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. It was a shot to his ego, a power play he was still getting used to. Her hand found a way to grasp on his locks once more. “You must be starving…”

With force, she pushed his face down her pussy. The desperate licks down her folds was enough of a sign that it was worth the wait.

She bit her lip as his tongue lapped her all up. His lips in between her clit, obediently sucking, giving it small licks at first made her bit her bottom lip. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of her moans. No, not yet. Not after what she went through with him.

If she was to get some retribution from his messy late night feelings, she’ll get it with him all needy in between her thighs.

He moaned as he ate. Juices dripped down his throat and coated his tongue. For some reason, she always tasted so sweet to him. A forbidden fruit he’d want to have all days of his week. With every lick and as he sucked on, he relished what he was depraved of as if it could be taken away from him in a blink of an eye.

By now, he expected her moans to flood his ears. There were no praises for him. Only the sound of his desperation and own moans filling up her living room.

So he tried harder and harder, desperate to please her, to be the one she was aching for. He wasn’t wrong. She wanted and needed him just as much. At that one particular night however, her stubbornness took over more than her wanton needs.

“Let me help…” she said as she desperately fought off her moans and mewls. Bucking her hips, she rode his face, treating him like her personal sex toy. He wanted to grasp for breath yet eating her out was a bigger priority for him. Lifting his head up to let in some air in his lungs, he went back down on her and gripped on her ass, letting her use him—every bit of him.

When his gripped got tighter and tighter, she could feel the coil inside of her ready to snap. She can convulse any minute. As he buried his tongue deep inside of her, he knew it too. He felt the tables turning on his favor. She knew he was getting smug about it too.

So before he could get any satisfaction from getting her off, she slapped away his hands on her thighs and pulled him by the hair away from her cunt. He gave her a pout and almost threw a tantrum about it. But he hoped this would mean his cock can finally get some much-needed attention.

“I think that’s enough,” she gasped. Her cheeks were flushed from herself peaking, almost ready to cum for him. She sat down and parted her legs. Her pussy glistened for him as her fingers started tracing her clit, circling it and teasing it for him. He was ready to get closer, but she stopped him by placing her foot gently on his chest.

“No more eating,” she instructed. “You can only watch.” He made a whining sound, ready to contest her. He wanted her. Wasn’t that clear enough? Hoping he would get his reward’s worth, he obliged and watched her touch herself for him. The first moan she ever made that night was entangled with his name.

“Do you wish you were fucking me silly right now, hun?” she teased him. He nodded as he felt his cock ache even more. His face was coated with her juices. In silence, he swallowed remnants of her taste left in his tongue. “I wanna have you cumming for me,” he murmured as he watched, entranced by the way she fucked herself in front of him. “Want my cock coated with your cum…. your pretty pussy.”

He wanted to drool just by watching her. At this point, he couldn’t hold it any longer. She watched his hands pull his pants down. Freeing his cock out of his sweats, he was desperate to relieve himself as his eyes were darted on her pretty pussy.

“That’s right. Jerk off for me…” she trailed off, loving the length of his curved cock. “Use that pre-cum as your lube babes.” With her command on lock, he started touching himself as she watched her get off on him. He never felt so small underneath her. At the same time, he didn’t mind. He weirdly enjoyed every bit of her control.

“I want that big cock for myself, babes. I do…” she assured him. “It’s just that… I don’t know where it’s been.” The sweet disarming tone on her voice turned sour. Moaning his name once more, she started fucking herself with her fingers, making him jerk off faster. “I wish your cock was in me right now,” she mused. “But I need to know who’s that pretty dick really for.”

Her fingers went faster, moans becoming more sporadic. Moaning his name tempted and mocked him. But fuck, it did turn him on more than he thought it would.

“Who’s that dick for babes?” she gasped. “You.” His response was swift, wrist flicking as he jerked himself off. “Couldn’t hear you, babe.” She demanded his obedience. Gasping as he felt himself cumming any moment now, he wanted to scream his response, desperate to let her know. At the end of the day, it’s hers and it’ll only be hers.

“Fuck, it’s yours babe. It’s your cock. Do whatever you want with it,” he gasped. A smile crept on her face when she got what she wanted. With that response, she let herself go. Her fingers worked faster and faster.

When she pulled it out, her digits were covered in her own white hot cum. He was left in awe as she squirted right in front of him. It dripped on the couch and some got on his shirt. As he watched her more and more, he felt his orgasm building up, ready to explode his cum down below his knees.

Before a sense of relief can wash over him, she stood up once more, regardless of her weakened state. She pulled his weight up and he obliged. With one push, he fell down to where she sat. Her cum and juices made his seat damp. It was humiliating—it was erotic.

A wicked smile formed on her face. Removing her top, her tits bounced for him. She had made her point. Now, it was time for him to get something out of it.

She sat on his lap, facing in front him. Her knees parted and buckled between her thighs. Aiding her as her hips dip lower, he placed his hand on the base of his cock for her to land on. With her arms wrapped around his neck, she kept her gaze on him.

Gasping softly as the tip of his cock went deeper inside of her, she buckled her hips and rode him out. The softest of moans escaped his lips. He chanted her name as if it was a holy prayer from above.

With all the depravation, he felt rewarded. She was a fucking goddess and he would let her be treated like this again and again. Her walls were slick and tight as she bounced on his cock.

“Love treating me like this, don’t you?” he moaned as he guided her hips with his hands. Within a second, she started going faster and faster, wanting his cum to fill her up. He gasped and tried to not give in too much to the friction.

“It’s my cock,” she responded. “I can do whatever I want now.”