Thinking...
Fritz, already feeling a sense of guilt regarding the weight of his cock in his hand, already feeling a small sense of both guilt and want for letting his thoughts drift to me...
Suddenly, when he hears my voice speak his name, there is a surge of panic and shame so powerful it properly jolts something in his chest, which runs down to his cock hard.
If he doesn't cum from the rush of the shock right then and there (oh God, oh God…the fight to stave himself is lost the minute he just barely manages to bite against his palm in an attempt to muffle the loud moan that pours from him, his cock pressed to his stomach as hot ropes of cum paint his chest…)…
...then he just barely manages to stave himself. He has to bring a palm to his mouth to bite back the groan that leaves him, his other hand firmly squeezing the base of his cock, slick with pre-cum he can see leaking from the tip.
No matter what, his breath is heavy; he only barely muffles the gasp that leaves him as his hands shake, heart stuttering. His breath hitches when he hears me knock, the words he wants to speak refusing to leave him. Any brace he could manage stills in the back of his throat when he catches my voice more clearly.
"I--you were calling out for me. Is everything alright?"
I'm thinking about Fritz again and JUST. Small orgasm denial thought. Just this pent up, stressed, craving thing who already feels a weight of both shame and relief just from having his cock in his hand, but then his thoughts wander to me, and he cannot hide the hitch of his breath as his cock jolts, the shame and want growing stronger.
His other hand covers his face as his pace on his cock grows, barely muffling the way he moans at the thought of my voice, of my hands being the ones to touch him…the hand on his face shifts to his mouth as he curls it into a fist, biting his knuckles after a particularly loud groan pours from his lips, but that barely manages to hide the whimpers that pour from him as he's fully pumping himself now, breath heavy as my name leaves him like a prayer--
His hand stops suddenly, stealing the air from his lungs as it firmly squeezes at the base of his cock. A hot sense of shame washes over him, hands shaking as he tries to brace himself to gather what little breath he can. Maybe he just barely manages to gather himself, drags himself to bed even as he can't quite quell the rapid thrum of his heartbeat, closing his eyes and feeling himself sink into a sense of want he's hesitating to fully let himself reach towards as his thoughts return to me.
me when the guilt coincides with the pent-up desire and as the guilt increase, so does the desire and need:
Boys who whine and beg and get on all fours to wiggle their butt for your attention are so cute
people always talk about makeup sex and angry sex but how about comfort sex? just holding one hands while they kiss you softly all over your body. every kiss partnered with sweet praise and compliments. gentle bites on your thighs. each touch is just so soft against your skin as though you were an angel that had fallen just for them.
Sending this off-anon because at first I accidentally hit the unfollow button in the midst of trying to send this, EMBARRASSED AS HELL
ANYWAY. I don't have anything super concrete to pitch with this, but I've been thinking about Medic's boots lately and I feel like in one regard or another you fired a beam at me. Genuinely thought about grinding down against them and I've been stuck in such a deep flustered fog for the past 40 minutes.
he knows what he's doing. the whore :D
Genuinely there’s also something about the thought of Fritz slipping into saying dirty talk in German in the midst of that worship that makes me just fall apart no matter what. Such sinful praise and heavenly filth as his thrusts grow more uneven.
sorry for giggling so much while you're trying to fuck me i'm just excited
a very merry smissmas to you all ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
L | 26 | They/ThemOccasional writer, avid piner.[often suggestive leaning/NSFW centric | MINORS DNI]
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