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Slinky Dinky

Summary:

Phee is curious about her roommate Clyde Logan, even more so after she accidentally walked in on him stepping out of the shower.

Notes:

What goes down stairs alone or in pairs?

Work Text:

Phee’d been wondering about her roommate Clyde for some time. He’d been hesitant for her to move in, but as time passed she realized that it wasn’t because he thought she was poor company, it was because he was painfully shy. She wondered if he’d even have let her live with him if their hours didn’t differ so intensely, her shifts at the library requiring her to get there early while he closed the Duck Tape most nights. Sometimes it felt like they were ships passing in the night, barely ever seeing each other except for the occasional night off. 

 

When they did interact, Clyde was considerate and respectful. He was also surprisingly neat, cleaning up after himself (and admittedly sometimes after her), and keeping the cabinets and refrigerator organized. They split the groceries, the cooking, and the cleaning, and sometimes he helped with her laundry.

 

Living with Clyde was possibly the most pleasant domestic experience Phee had ever had.

 

The occasional late night noises were odd, but not a deal breaker. Just…she couldn’t quite place them.

 

The first time she heard it, she woke up in the middle of the night, too hot because the air conditioning needed charging after a coolant leak, and the humidity seemed to be winning the battle with the light breeze. She lay in bed, sticky with sweat and perhaps a bit grumpy about it, when she heard what sounded like a wheeze.

 

No.

 

More of a…squeaking noise? Like a dog toy but not. Then there was the…um…rhythmic sort of sound. All she could think of were trading cards in bicycle spokes, or when the fan caught the blinds just right and kind of ruffled them all at once. Except it didn’t really sound like that at all. She wondered if there was one of those strange windchime things hanging nearby. Not a chime, exactly, the pinwheel kind of thing.

 

She was too tired to sort this out let alone investigate. In any case if it was a burglar she was certain Clyde would sort it out.

 

She kicked off the covers and traded her nightgown for an old, worn t-shirt of Clyde’s, one that she may or may not have stolen from the laundry, then lay with her head at the foot of her bed, closer to the window.

 

Something squeaked again, and she really hoped that the air conditioner repair could be completed tomorrow so they could close the windows again.

 

Except she heard the same sounds again the next night, lower, slightly muted by the hum of the compressor. Maybe Clyde had some of those fidget toys, for anxiety? She shrugged. It wasn’t that loud. Wouldn’t bother her at all if she could just identify it. But the nights passed and the strange squeaks and clicks were filed into the other household noises, the motor on the refrigerator, the hum click of the air conditioner kicking in, and the sound of the shrubs brushing against the side of the house. 

 

She’d been living there for several months, finally having felt like she’d gotten a handle on her new roommate, understanding his routines and quirks. Or so she thought until she walked in on him stepping out of the shower. They both froze for half a second, not even breathing it seemed as they stared at one another for what felt like an eternity.

 

“Oh my god,” she squealed, unable to get out of the bathroom fast enough as Clyde covered himself with the opaque curtain. 

 

“I’m so sorry,” she sputtered, when he came back out, cheeks and ears blushing profusely.  

 

“S’fine,” he rumbled, eyes trained on a chip in the linoleum. 

 

“I thought you’d left for work already. Your truck wasn’t here,” Phee gave by way of explanation. 

 

“Took it into Earl’s for a tune up,” he choked out, still not looking at her. 

 

“Oh.” It was her turn to blush, glancing at the calendar. “I’m so sorry.”

 

He swallowed thickly and shook his head before disappearing into his room. 

 

***

 

Since then it’d been quiet and stilted, Clyde tiptoeing around her and Phee couldn’t stop thinking about it. She knew her roommate was big, tall and wide. He was kind, sweet, and almost shy. All in all, it made it very difficult to see him as just her roommate. She had assumed he was big all over, the tightness of his jeans not exactly hiding everything, but she wasn’t prepared for the equipment that she had glimpsed hanging between his legs. 

 

Now that she’d seen him completely bare she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Picturing it. Wondering. Maybe she’d imagined it. Maybe her eyes were playing tricks. Or that’s what she told herself until Clyde would disappear into his room the moment she’d come home from work. 

 

She had spent the last several nights imagining her fingers running over his length, letting it drape over her palm. She wondered what it was like when he got hard, was he much bigger? Would she be able to take him? How would it fit inside of her? How would it feel inside of her? 

 

She shivered, wondering in what other ways he differed. Would it hurt? Would there be discomfort? Or would he refuse altogether? Worrying at her lower lip with her teeth, she laid back against her pillows and let herself think about Clyde. It certainly wasn’t the first time since she moved in, but she found her curiosity made her urges more insistent .  

 

Beyond her new obsession, Phee realized they needed to talk this out. Face to face. They could be adults about it. If only he would stop avoiding her. No, she was going to have to take matters into her own hands. She glanced at the kitchen calendar again, their work schedules recorded in neat, block writing. “ So’s you can feel comfortable,” he’d said, “knowing when I’ll be here or not.”

 

So thoughtful, really.

 

He’d be in late that night, but off the next day. She had a day off too. Perfect time to confront him. If it went the way she hoped, maybe they could spend their day together. Phee yawned and frowned. Perhaps she should nap, set an alarm for when Clyde would be getting home. She slipped into her room and set both her phone and the clock on her bedside table, just in case.

 

She woke up before the alarm went off, but only by a minute, feeling wide awake she sat up, silencing her alarms before putting on her robe and going to sit out in the living room in wait.

 

As much as he'd been avoiding her she didn't dare turn on any light, except for the one above the sink, something she did on occasion out of courtesy. Her heart raced and her thoughts bounced around in her head as she waited for the telltale sound of his truck pulling up next to the trailer. 

 

Her heart pounded in her ears as she heard the crunch of gravel, saw the headlights illuminate the room, followed by the squeak of a brake and the slam of the door. She stood, feeling antsy and keyed up, one foot on the linoleum, the other on the worn carpet.

 

The keys rattled in the door, handle turning, before he pushed it open with a grunt, sticking in the frame from the humid summer night. He flipped the switch, overhead fixture bathing them in harsh light.

 

Clyde startled, dropping his keys on the floor with a curse.

 

“Christ, Phee. Scared me,” he muttered, bending to pick them up before shutting the door and locking it behind him.

 

“We need to talk,” she rushed out, stepping closer. He looked at her, like a deer in the headlights. 

 

“Talk?” He muttered, eyes casting downward.

 

“Yes,” she said, stepping close enough that he'd have to touch her if he wanted to escape through the galley kitchen to his room. “About the other week.”

 

“Ain't nothing to talk about,” he said sullenly, jaw clenching.

 

“I think there's a whole lot to talk about. For one, why have you been avoiding me?”

 

“Ain’t,” he insisted, looking anywhere but at her.

 

“You have, Clyde,” she said softly. “It’s beginning to hurt my feelings.” His head snapped up from his intent study of the crack in the linoleum there by his left boot, chin jerking toward her. He stared at her for a long moment, a tumult of emotions in his eyes. Perhaps she should feel guilty, but it wasn’t manipulation. She really did feel a bit hurt. She thought they were at least friends.

 

“Didn’t mean to hurt you,” he finally said with a sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly in defeat.

 

“I know. But you did. Why?”

 

“Guess I just figured…well,” he gestured vaguely at his crotch. “Afraid you’d think I was some kind of… freak.”

 

She walked into his space, craning her neck up to look at him. “I’m not afraid of you, you know,” she commented matter of factly, dropping down to her knees without breaking eye contact. 

 

He sucked in a breath. “You should be, Phee.”

 

“Why? Are you secretly a big mean man?” She asked, tugging purposefully at his belt buckle. 

 

He shook his head. 

 

“I mean. If you don’t like me,” she said with a pout as she let her palms rest on his thighs. She could feel the heat of his body, seeping through the thick denim. 

 

He scowled, as if suddenly willing to put up a fight. “Not like you?” He asked her incredulously. 

 

She grinned up at him, licking her lips and reaching for his belt again. “So, you want me to?”

 

His eyes were wide as he hesitated, long dark hair hanging in wavy curtains. He nodded, Phee grinning up at him as she threaded the leather strap through the buckle. She made swift work of his button before carefully pulling down his zipper. 

 

She sucked in an eager breath, core heating with anticipation as she pulled open his jeans and was reacquainted with the sight of him. She paused, sat back on her heels a little dazzled by the first look at what she’d only glimpsed once before. She was met with the rainbow color of his cock, the tip of it practically iridescent with the way the colors pooled and shifted in the fluorescent kitchen light. He was a marvel to look at but she was mindful not to come off as scrutinizing.

 

“It's beautiful,” she told him, glancing back up to find him looking hesitant. Vulnerable. Her fingers wrapped around the coils of his shaft, thickening as she touched them. To her surprise she found them moist, lubricating as her fingers teased over the length. His expression softened as her other hand reached in to cup his balls. She was only slightly startled by the wheezing, squeaky sigh that absolutely did not come from his mouth. Ah, she had wondered… she pressed gently against his sac again, smiling up at him from there on her knees. Multi-colored light bounced across her skin, and she stared in wonder. “I have never seen anything so lovely as you, Clyde Logan.”

 

She glanced back up at him, pressing a kiss to the smooth tip of his dick. He was shaped like an average cock, if not a little long, the texture of the tip smooth and soft, like one of those ergonomic mouse pads at the reference desk. His cock twitched, the spring like coil thickening further, cock elongating in her hand, forming a sturdier tube than the typical coils formed, lubricating until it was as slick as it was hard. He was so long, his shaft thickening as she took a tentative lick, the natural lubricant on his skin was almost salty. 

 

It wasn’t sweat, not like that. This was…she licked again, gathering as much as she could and letting it rest on her tongue. Fresh. Like tasting the hint of salt in ocean air. Phee pursed her lips and kissed the first coil, just below the head of his cock, suckling lightly, then tracing the tiny, rapidly closing gap where it rested hot and heavy against the next coil with the tip of her tongue.

 

Clyde groaned, leaning with a thump against the door, keys dropping to the floor for a second time. She kissed down to the base of his shaft, her lips coating in his slick, before running the flat of her tongue across the underside of his cock. She groaned, enjoying the light taste of him. 

 

“Phee,” he rasped, prosthetic hanging at his side, right hand hovering in the air by her head. 

 

“You can touch me, Clyde. I want you to. Been wanting you to,” she said, smiling up at him softly before wrapping her lips around the head of his cock. His large hand stroked over her hair, fingers threading through the loose strands. Her tongue flicked around the underside of the head, taking him deeper, before teasing between two snug coils.  

 

Clyde’s fingers flexed against her scalp, his hips jerking forward, pushing his cock further into Phee’s mouth.  She hummed, stroking her hand over the shaft, her other hand squeezing his balls. Clyde gasped, his balls making that squeaky sound again when her thumb stroked over the right spot. Panting above her, Clyde brushed her hair away from her face to watch her swallow his colorful cock, light splashing color against his pale skin.

 

Phee bobbed her head, taking him as deep as she could, wondering how he’d feel inside of her while the ridge-like coils bump-bump-bumped over her tongue. She squirmed a little, chasing the ache that was beginning to build between her thighs. She could feel her own arousal gathering and dripping down the inside of her thighs. 

 

Despite seemingly being at his full hardness there was still some flexibility to his cock, possibly due to its spring-like nature, but he was impossibly long. She sucked, testing her ability to take him deeper, his cock practically vibrating the way the ridges ran over her lips. She groaned, his cockhead pressed against the back of her throat, breathed and swallowed it deeper, Clyde whimpering above her. 

 

She pulled off, stroking the mixture of saliva and his arousal over his length and made another attempt, the coils of his cock squeezing together as he hit the roof of her mouth, like a spring. She hummed, swallowed him down, her fist still bridging the distance between her mouth and the fleshy base.

 

She squeezed his balls, their little gasping squeaks filling the air, slick now with her spit and his own lubrication. 

 

“Phee,” Clyde growled in warning. She pulled off again, drool dripping down her chin as she grinned coyly up at him. 

 

“Close?” She asked, giving the base a firm squeeze, his cock squelching in her hand, before stroking him lightly. 

 

He gave a shaky nod, his thumb smearing around the mess on her chin.

 

She dipped forward, kissing the underside of his cock, sucking experimentally on one of his balls. The texture of it all was smooth against her lips and she opened wide to suck it into her mouth, the little stretchy tendrils tickling her tongue and the roof of her mouth. 

 

Clyde groaned, another thunk against the door as he gave in to his pleasure.

 

She swirled the rubbery pubes with her tongue, teeth grazing over the well rounded testical on her retreat.  

 

“Fuck,” he cussed, her usually mild mannered roommate catching her by surprise.

 

“Good?” She asked breathlessly, checking in before giving the other one the same treatment. 

 

“Yeah,” he answered breathlessly. 

 

She grinned like a sly cat as she wrapped her lips around the other ball, tongue flicking and teasing. The pressure made it squeak in her mouth and she chuckled around it as she released it with a pop,  giving him an affectionate but gentle nip as she pulled away. 

 

He shuddered and she took the opportunity to ramp up his pleasure, resuming licking and sucking at his cock, pulling his hips to encourage him to fuck her mouth.

 

“Phee, gonna–” He panted. 

 

She groaned, stroking the places her mouth couldn't reach, looking up at the man above who looked absolutely wrecked.  He began to thrust, rocking his hips haphazardly until he was coming down her throat. It wasn't the bitter brine she'd expected; rather it was sweet and she sucked it down greedily, his cock pulsing against her tongue. His cum was light, almost foamy. Frothy in her mouth. The salty-sweet mixture of his arousal was pleasant and she was already eager to suck his cock again. She wondered how it would feel in her hands, starting when he was soft, coils thinner and more flexible, perhaps more like a slinky than a spring. 

 

Pulling away, she licked her lips and sat back as Clyde stared down at her, wild-eyed and chest heaving. His hair was mussed and there was a flush on his cheeks and neck. Phee opened her mouth to say something, although exactly what she wasn’t quite sure, when she was suddenly hauled up off the floor. “Clyde, what–”

 

He steadied her for half a moment, grabbed the back of her head, and pressed his mouth to hers as he backed her further into the trailer. She thought at first he must be taking her to the couch, but then he turned them, kept going, until they reached the small breakfast table, his lips and tongue doing things to her mouth she very much enjoyed and rather wanted to feel elsewhere.

 

Everywhere.

 

Her bottom hit the edge of the table and he stood straight and so, very tall. Clyde raised his right hand and cupped her chin, thumb on her cheek and fingers resting on her opposite jaw and splayed down her neck. She smiled at him, ready to burst with it, and he leaned in until their noses almost brushed. “Get on the table,” he whispered, and it felt more like a question, a request.

 

She stretched up on her toes and nodded, reaching back to steady herself. She let out a little yip of surprise when Clyde wrapped his arm around her waist and just picked her up as if it was nothing. She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck. He leaned over her, bending and following her down as she lay on her back.

 

She only worried about the sturdiness of the table for a moment and then Clyde was kissing her again. Nothing else really mattered. They were both breathing hard when he pulled away from her again. “Wanna taste you, too.”

 

Phee nodded enthusiastically, fumbling for the belt of her robe, not that it was covering much any longer. Still, as Clyde helped her tug the knot free and shrug out of it, he paused. “I knew you stole it!” Phee looked down, following his eyes to her chest.

 

Oh, right…she’d worn his old t-shirt, partly because it was comfortable and partly in hopes he’d like the idea of it, of her in his clothes.

 

If the way he looked at her was any indication, he liked it very much. The stretched collar hung low, the hem barely grazing the tops of her thighs from the current angle.

 

Which meant he could see that she hadn’t bothered with underwear. 

 

Clyde made a sound low in his throat that spoke to the very core of her, made something instinctively sit up and take notice. It was almost a growl, a rumble of possession. He gripped her thigh and pulled, spreading her legs further apart as he sank to his knees. “Scoot forward, Phee,” he half-whispered, eyes laser-focused as he licked at his lips, slightly red and swollen from kisses. It was easier said than done, but she inched closer, legs draped to either side of him as he knelt there on the kitchen floor. 

 

His eyes were dark as they looked up at her, expression mixed in some sort of hungry plea. He kissed the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, beard making her twitch with the way it tickled her. He grinned, kissing her again and again, inching his way closer to her core, Phee squirming, her hands pulling the hem of her shirt up so she could palm at her breasts, plucking at her nipples. 

 

Clyde growled, his hand reaching up to nudge one hand away, that gentle begging boy no longer evident in the feral gaze that met hers as his hand gently squeezed her breast. The rough calluses of his palm, rasping indulgently against her delicate skin. She moaned, arched her back, Clyde taking the opportunity to lick through her aching center. 

 

She sucked in a breath, hooking her feet behind his back, demanding he stay and continue. He gave in to her silent bid, kissing her curl covered mound before giving another deliberate lick. Phee moaned, eyelids fluttering, and he kind of huffed against her, a muffled chuckle, and did it again. He explored and teased in long, slow strokes of his tongue. The occasional prickle from mustache or goatee only heightened the sensation as she writhed under his ministrations.

 

And then he started talking.

 

A long, slow lick along one side, accentuated by a pause, and then, “Taste so sweet.” Another deliberate, exploratory lick to the other side, and, “Could do this all day.” A heavy drag of his tongue up her center, pausing for a teasing dip inside her and then gliding between her folds all the way up to where she throbbed, echoing the deep ache inside. “Wanna drink you down, have you for every meal of the day.” 

 

Phee rocked her hips, trying to get closer to the teasing brush of his lips and facial hair, the caress of breath as he spoke. “Clyde!” She scrabbled at him, grasping the strands of that glorious hair of his and tugging. He chuckled again and returned to his work, pausing every so often to smack his lips together as if savoring her taste, sometimes grunting against her as she pressed her heels into his back and tugged on his hair.

 

That noise started again, the odd hula-hoop/pinwheel/ruffled mini-blinds sound and she frowned. She hadn’t noticed anything when he was in her mouth and hand earlier. “Wha-AH-what’s that?”

 

“Hm?” The sound vibrated through her.

 

“N-noise. Sh-sh-sh like? Oh! OH!” She bucked her hips, table rattling with a warning creak as he lapped at her and then sucked.

 

Oh, she definitely liked that.

 

Clyde steadied the table with his left hand, the prosthetic fingers stiff against the wooden surface and he moaned against her. The noise had stopped, not that she cared any longer. What did noises matter? She was making a few noises of her own.

 

Her mouth opened and her eyes rolled back for a moment as a thick, warm fingertip stroked through slick, pooling arousal and pressed gently inside her. Slow and steady, and the pressure was divine, for a moment soothing the ache that had bloomed deep inside her. Phee squirmed and gasped as the movement changed something, allowing his finger to rub against some spot that made her see shooting stars for a moment. She tried to speak, tried to tell him how it felt, but all she managed was a long, low, “Mmmmmmm,” and another tug on his hair.

 

Clyde seemed to understand at least, and the slow drag of his finger back out of her and then in once more was divine. She let herself enjoy it, rolling her hips to meet the thrusts of one and then two fingers as he licked circles around her clit. His name echoed oddly in the space of the trailer, along with the wet squelch of his fingers thrusting in and out and his moans muffled against her center.

 

She tried to be mindful of his hair, not pull too hard, and she threaded her fingers through the strands, scratching lightly at his scalp with blunt nails. He thrust his fingers faster, harder, and she was close, so close.

 

She gripped at his hair again, grazing the top of his ear on accident, and he grunted. She felt the edge of teeth and nearly screamed.

 

“Shit, sorry, sorry,” he muttered, pulling away as far as her grip on his hair allowed and stilling the movements of his hand. “Ears are sensitive.”

 

“Nooo!” Phee howled. “Felt good, don’t stop.” She tugged again, dragged him back to her. “S-suck,” she pleaded. “So close.”

 

“Gonna come for me, Phee?”

 

“Uh huh!”

 

“Mm, pretty girl,” he muttered then sealed his mouth back over her, sucking hard and massaging with his tongue as his fingers drummed against her front wall.

 

Phee screamed his name and arched up almost violently, nearly sitting up and in real danger of falling off the table as she came hard, entire body shaking and spasming as her inner walls clenched and squeezed around his fingers.

 

Clyde slowed down but worked her through it, eyes hot and dark with need. He steadied her, made sure she wasn’t about to fall, and then watched her and waited. The strange noise started again, but slower, the one she heard sometimes at night, and she dimly noted his left arm moving in a slow rhythm which matched the cadence of the sound. Huh…she hadn’t noticed anything when she touched him, but then the material of the prosthetic wasn’t exactly skin.

 

She blinked up at the ceiling as she returned to earth, breath heavy as if she’d just run a marathon. Looking down at Clyde, who was still kneeling between her thighs, she pulled him back up to her, fingers cupped around the nape of his neck. He came willingly, lips brushing over any bit of skin that he happened up on his way before reclaiming her mouth.  He tasted of her, beard dripping with her arousal as it prickled against her skin. 

 

His hand roamed up her ribs, thumb rasping over her nipple, his shirt rucked up to her armpits as he kissed down her neck. She lifted her arms, helped him remove the stolen shirt and he backed up to look at her. She supposed it was only fair since she’d already seen him naked. However, she didn’t think it was fair that he stood there fully dressed albeit disheveled. 

 

She hooked her leg around his hip to pull him closer, tugging at the buttons of his shirt. He grunted, unhooking the strap of his prosthetic and setting it on one of the chairs before tugging his shirt over his head.  Phee helped, eager to feast on the pale expanse of his chest, broad and muscled. She let her lips press against it, as he was momentarily occupied by the fabric going over his head, nipping when his pectoral flexed from the movement. 

 

“You like to use your teeth,” he huffed, pulling her flush against him, his cock sprung up between them, bobbing and swaying a bit.

 

“Too much?” she asked, cheeks heating as if he’d admonished her. 

 

“Never,” he said. “Might be, I even like it. Maybe you should try again.”

 

She nipped and sucked a little mark into his chest, enjoying the way he rumbled, his cock twitching where it rested on her thigh. Her hands pushed at his waistband, pushing them below his ass.

 

“Hold on, I don't even have my boots off.”

 

“Well, hurry up then,” she said with a smack to his bare cheek.

 

“Bossy,” he tutted at her, earning a giggle from her. He bent just enough to untie and kick off his boots, shoving down the jeans before kicking them off. 

 

“Figured I better be very clear about what I want since you're so shy and everything.”

 

He stood again, his hand on her hip, finger tips pressing into the flesh of her ass. He kissed her slow and languid, her arms wrapping around his shoulders. He hoisted her up, Phee locking her ankles behind his back as he carried her down the hall to his room. 

 

It felt like a claim, bringing her into his space and tumbling into bed with her. She cupped his cheeks, bringing his mouth down to hers as she squirmed beneath him. His hand palmed her breast and it wasn’t long before he was kissing his way down her neck, brushing his lips over one rosy nipple. 

 

She shivered, rolling her hips up against his, his cock trapped between them. He grunted, his tongue flicking over the taut bud before pulling it into his mouth. 

 

She groaned, her hands carding through his hair as she held him to her breast, humping against him. 

 

“Fuck, Phee. You’re gonna make me come again,” he whined, grinding against her. 

 

“Then get up here and fuck me, then,” she huffed impatiently. 

 

He growled, his teeth grazing against the freckled flesh of her breast as he kissed his way back up her body. “Bossy,” he grumbled. 

 

She grinned up at him, capturing his lip between her teeth as she reached for his cock. “Unless you want me to ride you?”

 

His eyes widened and he nodded, his lip pulling from her mouth as he did. 

 

She pushed him onto his back, straddling his hips as she slotted her pussy over his cock. She could feel each ridge of him slide over her sensitive and swollen clit and she practically growled as she pulled off so she could line up his cock. It was different, pushing down onto his length as it shifted slightly beneath her due to its more flexible nature. 

 

She huffed, clenching around him as his cockhead slipped past her entrance, his cock filling her much more easily.  Her mouth fell open as she descended down onto his cock, biting her lip as his hand palmed at her breasts, his stump resting on her hip. She knew she’d taken all of him as she settled against his thighs, his balls squeaking as they pressed against her ass, dim disco lights scattering across the room. 

 

“You feel so good,” he panted, his chest heaving beneath where her palms were planted. Her legs were spread wide over his thick hips, and she wasn’t sure how long she could withstand the strain. 

 

“You feel good, too.  So deep,” she said as she rocked her hips experimentally. He rolled her nipple between callused fingers and she found herself lifting herself off and dropping back down as arousal shuddered down her spine. 

 

He was so slick inside of her, both of them soaked from their earlier orgasms. Clyde bit his lip, his hand moving to her hip to grip her firmly as she was spurred into a steady rhythm. He helped, his arm and chest flexing deliciously with each move. The room was filled with the sound of his cock fucking her wetly and his balls squeeking with each descent of her ass into his lap. 

 

Her breathing grew harsh as sweat beaded her brow, her hair sticking to her temple. Her thighs burned, shaking with each press against the mattress, Clyde’s brow furrowing as he noticed. With a grunt he sat up, holding her to him, his cock filling her deliciously as he laid her back against the bed.  He pressed her knees apart and towards the mattress, his gaze hot where it met the place they were joined. 

 

He took heaving breaths as he rolled his hips, slowly at first, testing her depths, ridges of his cock rubbing delectably. Her hands fisted in the comforter, his thumb finding her clit, rolling over it to make her clench hard around his length. 

 

He grunted, pressing harder, fucking her faster, his balls slapping wetly against her ass, their light making colorful shadows bounce around the room. The tension pulled, coiled, snapped, and soon she was shuddering beneath him, pulling him deep as his hips stuttered, cum filling her and oozing down her crack. 

 

He bent forward, peppering her face with kisses, his fingers pinching her chin. His hips rolled, his cock slicking through the drenched mess. She shivered, her body over sensitive, each touch, each roll of his hips sending a little flicker of pleasure down her spine.  

 

Finally, he pulled back, his cock slipping wetly from her body, cum oozing from her down onto the mess that was currently soaking into the comforter. 

 

“Again?” he rasped, rolling her onto her side. 

 

“Again?” She murmured, not quite catching on, even as he rolled her onto her stomach and brought her up onto her knees. “Again. Holy shit, Clyde,” she said, clenching around nothing as he gave her rump a little spank.

 

“Fuck,” he muttered, pressing between her shoulder blades and adjusting her position. “Love the way you jiggle.”

 

Apparently his cock was full of tricks, she thought wryly as he used his stump and his hand to pull her cheeks apart. He leaned forward, licking through her core before straightening back up to line his cock up with her entrance. He pressed, his cock not as hard as it had been, bending slightly to rub against the place his fingers had found.

 

“Oh,” she gasped, palms pressed to the bed, mouth open wide. It felt different, the weight of it dragging against her front wall sent sparks up her spine.  

 

“Good?” he asked, stilling his body, bending over her body as if she could be anything but starstruck. 

 

“Yeah,” she gasped out, surprised her answer was the least bit coherent. 

 

“Sure?”

 

“Fuck, yes,” she whined, grinding back against him. “Move already,” she gasped, squeezing her walls around him. 

 

He grunted, apparently receiving her message. “Yes, ma’am.” 

 

His first few thrusts were slow, learning the motion of his body in relation to hers.  

 

“More, I won’t break,” she encouraged, her fingers curling into the soft comforter. 

 

He smacked her ass again, earning a squeal from her. 

 

“Quit your bossin’,” he grumbled, but she could hear the smirk that curled his lip. 

 

He bent down, propping up on his elbows on either side of her. “That okay, darlin’.”

 

She huffed, turning to meet his gaze with her own smile. “More than okay, Clyde.,” she reassured, forgetting he was probably new to this. 

 

He kissed her shoulder, breathing in, his chest pressing against her back as he did. He curled his body, wrapping his arm around her, kissing across her shoulders before rearing back onto his heels, his hand sliding down the furrow of her spine. 

 

“So pretty, darlin’,” he rasped, his hips beginning a slow rhythmic roll. 

 

“Even though I’m all sweaty?” She asked, a gasping breath punctuating the end. 

 

“Mhm, you’re all sweaty cuz of me though,” he grunted, his hand squeezing her ass before giving it another light smack. 

 

She groaned and whimpered, as he fucked her, his speed increasing. Their combined arousal made his movements slick, his cock flexing inside of her with each thrust, pressing deep and making her see stars. His balls bounced lightly against her clit and she couldn’t resist peeking between her legs to watch as they threw colorful light against her skin. 

 

She could feel herself getting close again, her arousal rising, shifting and stretching before cresting over her, making her gasp and clench. Clyde grunted, when she grasped around him, his fingers flexing at her hip, his movements increasing, balls slapping wetly against her thighs with enough force that each roll of his hips was punctuated with a squeak and more wild flashes of light. Each thrust ricocheted down her nerves, keeping her keyed up until finally his cock pulsated inside, filling her with his frothy cum. 

 

It was enough to tip her over again, her thighs clamping tight as his hips twitched against her ass, his body curling around hers, his sweat slicked chest pressing against her back. He pulled out of her, hot cum oozing between her thighs. But she was too blissed out to care, flopping onto her side, hoping to bypass the puddle on the bedspread before the afterglow pulled her into the darkness of sleep. 



Phee groaned and burrowed into the bedding, swatting at whatever it was that kept insistently and annoyingly trying to wake her.

 

“Come on, now, Darlin’ don’t be like that.”

 

Hand. It was a hand.

 

Clyde’s hand on her back shook her gently side to side one more time. “Just for a minute, Phee. Come on. You’re layin’ in the wet spot.”

 

“Don’t care,” she grumbled, eyes stubbornly shut, sprawled on her tummy in a bed that felt heavenly and smelled like Clyde. Now who was being bossy.

 

“Well I care,” the annoying man said all… annoyingly . “It’s my bed. Like to change the covers out before it soaks into the mattress.” With a huff she rolled to the side, grimacing as soon as the cool air from the vents touched her clammy skin. He chuckled as she sat up and rubbed at her face. “Okay?”

 

Phee yawned and then nodded before slipping off the edge of the bed to stand on the floor. She hissed a bit as she straightened. She couldn’t have been asleep for long, but it was at least long enough for the endorphins to fade. She stretched carefully, watching as Clyde stripped the comforter from the bed and patted at the sheets beneath. “Good thing about this, it ain’t soaked all the way through. Bad thing is the spread’s too big for the washer. Have to take it to town next week.” Clyde dropped the thick blanket to the floor by his closet door and looked back at Phee.

 

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked with a frown.

 

Phee nodded. “Just a little sore,” she admitted, then hurried to add, “in a good way. Used muscles I haven’t in a while.”

 

“Anything I can do?”

 

“Remind me to stretch first next time?” she quipped, and watched his eyes widen and mouth go slack.

 

“Next time?”

 

She made her way around the bed, giving up on trying to look enticing about two steps in. “Next time, and the time after that, and the time after that…I mean, if you want that too.”

 

Clyde reached out, almost tentatively, and pulled her in close. “I do want that.”

 

“Good,” she hummed, absently pressing a kiss between his pectorals as she wrapped her arms around him and let him tuck her head under his chin. They stayed like that for a long moment, holding one another and lightly swaying, until Clyde pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

 

“Come on, I’ll run you a bath and get some water. You want anything to eat? Think I might make a sandwich.”

 

She started to decline, then thought better of it. “That sounds good. You’re not gonna start to be shy again are you?” 

 

He glanced at her with an arched brow. “Was only shy cuz I liked you… Didn’t want you to be creeped out,” he shrugged, turning to walk out into the hall. 

 

She followed, shooing him out of the bathroom once he started the water for the bath. He reappeared with her robe, which she appreciated but didn’t keep on long before they were both trying to fit into the warm water, finally Clyde slotting Phee between his thick thighs, her back to his chest. 

 

“I like this,” she said sleepily, his arms wrapped around her. 

 

“New Saturday night tradition?” He asked, sounding hopeful. 

 

“Hmm,” she nodded, yawning again. 

 

“You’re sleepy. Should get you to bed.”

 

“Only if you’re there too,” she murmured. 

 

“Alright, Darlin’. I’ll be there, too.”

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