Chapter Text
You wake up the next morning to two text messages from Charlie. Your stomach erupts into butterflies, pulse picking up as you hold your phone to your face to read the notifications.
‘I came so fucking hard thinking of my cock in your sweet cunt.’
You shiver, sliding your thighs together under the covers. The other message is just a photo, one you can’t see very well in the little preview. You open it quick as can be, heart in your throat, and fuck—
He’s smart enough—or maybe, enough of a tease—not to show his face or his cock. Instead, it’s the pale expanse of his torso, from his neck to the trail of hair leading down between his strong thighs. His skin is all shiny, large droplets of cum spattered over it; a sizable amount was pooled on his stomach.
Fuck .
You stare at the photo a little longer than probably necessary. God, it was dirty; he was dirty—you absolutely loved it. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, trying to figure out what to say; there was so much to choose from. You wrestle with yourself before finally starting to type, quickly, so you couldn’t talk yourself out of it.
‘Filthy Mr. Barber. Hope you saved some for me.’
You hit send and promptly abandon your phone, heading to the bathroom to shower. You’d slept into the morning, and you’re considering asking him if he wants to grab lunch sooner rather than later. You wanted him, and at this point it was pretty clear that the two of you were on the same level of desperation.
He’d sent a response by the time you came back into the room, perched on the edge of your bed with a towel wrapped around you. You hold your breath as you read the words on the screen, a little smile pulling at your lips.
‘Oh I’ve got plenty for you, sweetheart. Whenever you want it.’
Sweetheart. Alright, yeah, late lunch it was.
‘What if I want it now? Maybe get some pizza delivered first?’
He answers before you can set your phone back down, and his eagerness makes you preen.
‘Tell me what you want and I’ll order it to my place.’
‘I’ll be over soon.’
You admittedly rush through your routine of getting ready, and not just because of the way your stomach was growling. You keep looking at the photo he sent you, your mouth fucking watering at the image. He was unfair . You grab a couple essentials before rushing out the door, deciding you might as well have some toiletries in the car--you know, just in case . You weren’t expecting anything other than a meal and what you’re sure will be an amazing fuck, but there was no harm in being prepared for otherwise.
The drive to his apartment feels like it takes ages, especially with the constant start and stop of Saturday afternoon traffic. You drum your fingers on the steering wheel, taking quick little looks over at the passenger seat, remembering everything that happened last night. It makes you fidget, nerves alight in your stomach. Shit, you needed to take a breath, to calm down--this was Charlie . There was no need for you to feel so… antsy. You knew him enough to feel comfortable, to feel secure with what you were doing, hook-up or not.
You pull yourself together in your car, sitting outside his apartment complex. He’s sent you the flat number, and you search the front of each unit as you walk down the shared sidewalk in the middle of the complex. Charlie pulls open his door the second you knock, and oh, he looks hungry.
“Hey,” he breathes, dark eyes sweeping over you. He’s wearing jeans and a loose burgundy colored sweater that accentuates his pale skin, even with the light tan he’s managed to acquire with his weekly swim sessions. He’s barefoot, clearly comfortable in his own space; you aren’t sure why that’s so endearing.
“Hi there,” you answer, stepping through the doorway as he moves to let you in. You study your surroundings curiously, looking around at his belongings. The living room was cozy, with a large couch and two oversized armchairs, plants sat around and framed pieces of art on the walls. You can see into the kitchen and dining area, and spot two large pizza boxes sitting on the table. “I see I got here just in time.”
Charlie chuckles, nods, spurred into motion from where he’d been frozen at the door. “Arrived just before you did. Make yourself at home. Would you like anything to drink?” He brushes a large hand over your back as he walks past you, his touch lingering a moment too long, the two of you sharing a heated gaze. Christ, how were you going to last through a meal with him like this?
You ask for some water, following him into the kitchen after kicking off your own shoes and abandoning your bag on the coffee table. He moves around fluidly in the small space, grabbing glasses and plates and napkins. Your gaze trails over his form, admiring the way the material of his sweater drapes over his back, the way the denim of his jeans clings to his thighs. You were used to seeing him in either loose slacks or swim shorts—this was a happy medium between the two.
“You look nice,” you say, because you can. Charlie gives you a look, scoffing at your words even as his cheeks flush a pretty pink color, accentuating the freckles and moles that dotted his handsome face. He was pleased at your compliment, even if he wouldn’t say it.
It only takes Charlie a couple of his long strides to place the dishware on his dining room table and then come back to you, cornering you where you’re leaning against the countertop. “You look nice, too,” he murmurs, caging you within with his arms, voice low.
You grin up at him, reaching to fiddle with the hem of his sweater. “Do I? That’s good. I was a bit distracted while getting ready—kept stopping to look at a picture on my phone.”
Charlie’s eyes go dark, and he leans in closer, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Yeah? You liked it?”
You nod, arching against him slightly. His gaze falls to your lips, your chest, and back up again. “I really liked it. Thought about getting off to it but decided to wait for the real thing,” you hum, trying to sound casual despite your racing heart. The two of you were walking a fine line, each trying to gain a minuscule amount of power over the other—though, honestly, you just liked pushing his buttons.
One of Charlie’s large hands comes up, settling against your neck, his thumb and index finger notching under your jaw to tilt your head up exactly where he wants it. You swallow hard under the slight pressure of his palm, and he makes a contented sound in the back of his throat. Your hand comes up to grip his wrist, and for a split second his hold on you falters, his dark brows knitting in concern—it lets you know that he’ll stop the instant you voice any discomfort.
You just pull him closer, wanting more of that delicious pressure. Charlie groans, cursing under his breath, and suddenly he’s surprising you by crashing his mouth down onto yours. It’s not soft—it’s desperate, biting, his other hand coming up to cradle the back of your head. Christ, his hands were so fucking big, holding you in place so he can use your mouth the way he needs. It makes you think of how easily he could use you like this between his legs, hold you still while he fucks your throat.
Fuck, you want it.
His eyes are blazing when he pulls away, his plush lips all red and puffy. He grips your chin in his hand, the large pad of his thumb rubbing against your bottom lip. “Knew you had a perfect mouth,” he mumbles, pushing his thumb further; you take it, letting him press against your tongue. You wrap your lips around the base, hollowing your cheeks to suck, looking up at him the whole time. He’s got his mouth hanging open, face flushed. “ Fucking tease ,” he grits out through his teeth, voice betraying the tiniest bit of a tremble.
You just hum, blinking up at him; he tugs his thumb from your mouth, smearing your spit over your lips. “I promised you a date. So we’re going to sit and eat. And then I’m going to fuck you over the table.”
His words go straight between your legs, and you dip your hands under his sweater and the t-shirt beneath, needing to feel his bare skin. “You promise?” you ask with a pout, and Charlie huffs, shaking his head at you good naturedly.
“You’re going to kill me,” he tells you, finally stepping away so the two of you can breathe. You frown at the lack of contact, but at the same time, your stomach growls. Maybe having a bite or two would do you some good. With the way he was looking at you, you think you’ll need your strength.
You sit across from one another, gazes heavy, the air heady. Your underwear is fucking soaked, you can feel it when you sit down. You squirm in your seat, biting your lip as you serve yourself some pizza—the way Charlie’s white-knuckling his glass of water tells you that he knows exactly what you’re doing. You give him an innocent smile, even going so far as to flutter your eyelashes. “What?”
Charlie just huffs before taking a giant bite of his chosen slice, watching you thoughtfully. After a moment you feel a little nudge on the side of your foot, and you can’t stop the smile that spreads over your face. He scrunches his toes against yours, and you laugh. “Footsies? Really?”
Charlie just shrugs in response, grinning as he takes another bite. You shake your head at him, nudging his foot back, the potent need for one another fading into a nice sort of buzz. It was still there, and you knew it could easily be plucked back into the forefront of your minds, but it was toned down enough that the two of you could actually enjoy being together like this.
You talk while you eat—about everything and nothing all at once. It’s easy to talk to him. You already knew as much, but you’d been a bit worried things would be different in this particular setting. That maybe the pressure or the expectation of a date might change the dynamic between the two of you. And it had , but not in the way you’d feared. It was a welcome relief.
He’s in the middle of telling you he’s decided to go ahead with the theater deal when his phone starts buzzing on the tabletop. He makes no move to pick it up, only glancing at it briefly, but then a frown settles between his brows. “Sorry—hold on—“ He sets his slice of pizza down on the plate in front of him, reaching for the phone. “Henry’s iPad is FaceTiming me.”
He wipes his mouth before answering, brows arching when the call connects. “I thought you were doing homework.” His tone is schooled into something calm and even—his “Dad” voice, apparently. You haven’t noticed it before, but now it makes you smile. You make sure to stay silent and out of sight, listening for Henry’s familiar lilt to come through.
“I was but I finished, and Mom said I could have my games back.”
“If I call Mom, is she going to say the same thing?”
“ Yes , dad.”
Charlie’s lips quirk up in a smile, and he chuckles at his son’s exasperation. “Alright, alright, I believe you.” There’s a pause, and you watch Charlie make a funny face at the screen. Henry giggles, then speaks again.
“What’re you doing?”
“Iiiii’mmm eating lunch,” Charlie answers, stretching out the words. His brown eyes flicker up at you, expression warm and fond. It makes you feel all gooey inside. Henry is—thankfully—oblivious to it all.
“What are you eating?”
“Pizza.”
Henry sighs at his dad’s response, sounding mournful. “Does the pizza have meat on it?”
Charlie huffs out a laugh, leaning back in his chair. It seems like he knows where this line of questioning is going. “Yes it does.”
“Mom won’t let me get meat on our pizza.” Henry sounds petulant; Charlie’s voice is kind and patient.
“Mom’s vegetarian, honey, she can’t have meat.”
“Well I hate vegetarian.” Henry states, resolute. You try to hide your smile in your glass, sipping at your water so you won’t laugh.
Charlie gives the phone screen a look, but doesn’t take the bait. Instead, he changes the subject. “What are you and Mom having for lunch?”
“Spaghetti.”
“That sounds good. I like Mom’s spaghetti.” There’s the tiniest hint of melancholy in Charlie’s voice. Henry doesn’t notice it, going on about his day. Charlie takes it all in with genuine interest: wants to know how his homework went, what his friends are up to, where he’s going with his cousins tomorrow, what book Nicole is reading to him this week.
Part of you feels like you shouldn’t be intruding on their personal conversation, but you were already there, and you couldn’t exactly get up and leave. At least, not very discreetly. Charlie keeps shooting you looks that are almost apologetic, and you try to tell him with your own looks to stop that shit . He doesn’t ever need to apologize for caring for his son.
Still, Charlie winces after Henry hangs up, making eyes at you as he sets down his phone. “Sorry. I guess that sort of killed the mood, huh?”
You roll your eyes, giving him a ( gentle ) kick under the table. “Don’t apologize—Henry comes first, as he should. And no, it didn’t kill the mood.” Charlie gives you a look as if he doesn’t believe you, and you stare him down. When you speak again you choose your words wisely, your tone dipping down into something akin to a purr. “Why wouldn’t I like knowing you’re a good daddy ?”
Charlie freezes in place, staring back at you, and maybe you’d be worried that you’ve said the wrong thing if it wasn’t for the way his eyes go all wide and dark. You don’t even think he’s breathing.
Hook, line, and sinker .
His jaw works, and it takes him a while to respond. When he does, his tone is dark and clipped. “Alright.” He stands slowly, taking his time collecting the leftovers and dirty dishes from the table. You watch each and every deliberate movement, not daring to follow as he deposits everything in the kitchen. When he returns, he has a damp tea towel in his hands; you stand so he can wipe down the tabletop.
He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek, as if nervous, or perhaps just figuring out where to go from here. Straightening back up, he catches your eye, and you see him reach some sort of resolution. He tosses the towel in the direction of the kitchen—it lands haphazardly on the countertop—before stalking towards you.
“Was it a good first date?” Charlie asks, voice low as his hands reach for your wrists, pulling you towards him. You go willingly, pressing close to him, and he lets you—lets you duck your hands under his shirts to touch his bare skin. His eyelids flutter shut for the briefest of moments as he savors the feeling, his palms smoothing up your arms to settle high on your shoulders where he can rub the sides of your neck with his thumbs.
He was so handsome. And he was all yours—at least, for right now.
“Oh, so the date is over now?” you tease, sliding your hands over his torso and up his back. You trail your nails back down and Charlie groans, the noise unabashed. You want to hear more.
His eyes open up to look down at you, and he moves one of his hands up to take your jaw in a soft but steady grip, his thumb on your chin. “Did you like it?” he asks, quiet. You nod, anticipation building in your stomach—you think maybe it’s been building for weeks now. He nods back at you, murmuring “ good ,” before he leans in to slot his mouth over yours.
He kisses you firmly, his large nose pressing against your cheekbone as his plush lips suck at yours. Charlie’s kisses are insistent but not frantic—he takes his time, like he knows you’re his to do with what he wants. He doesn’t need to rush; he can explore your mouth, swallow down your noises, savor your taste.
His grip on your jaw tightens minutely when he pulls away to trace the tip of his nose along the side of your face. “ You want daddy to fuck you? ”
It’s little more than a breath against your ear and his teeth graze over your earlobe, teasing. You knew your earlier words would come back to bite you in the ass but fuck , hearing him say it, you feel lightheaded. You nod quickly, and Charlie chuckles. “Bend over the table, then, honey.”
You scramble to do as he says, draping yourself over the freshly cleaned wooden surface, holding on to whatever you can reach. When Charlie’s fingertips brush over your ass you jump, still somehow startled even though you were anticipating his touch. He smooths one large hand over your flank, as if to calm you.
“… You’ll tell me if I do something you don’t like, right?” he asks quietly from behind you, his tone gentle as he slowly pulls the bottom of your dress up, exposing you to him. “Any time you want to stop or change something, just let me know and I’ll do it.” Sweet, lovely Charlie, so concerned about you. It’d be even more endearing if you weren’t currently eager for him to fuck you six ways from Sunday.
“Yes, yes, yeah—I will, I swear.” You wriggle your hips back against him and he laughs, the sound settling all soft and warm in your head.
“Don’t be greedy,” he chides, hooking his fingers into your underwear and tugging them down your legs. He helps you step out of them before he’s pulling your thighs apart, settling a hand on your lower back and pushing you to arch more for him— presenting yourself for him . “I’m going to give you everything you want.” The words are murmured, and you shiver, wanting to squeeze your thighs together for some sort of relief but not daring to.
There’s silence, and then a dull thud. You don’t realize it’s Charlie’s knees making contact with the linoleum floor until he’s yanking your hips back and onto his face. You let out a little yelp, mouth agape as his large hands spread you open for him to press his tongue through your folds. He moans at the first taste of you—pulls you closer like he can’t get enough. Fuck, you wish you could see him like this.
“So fucking wet ,” he mumbles against your pussy, and you aren’t sure if he’s talking to himself or god or what —honestly, you’re not even sure how he’s breathing with how tightly he’s holding you, but you can’t bring it within yourself to care. Especially not when he adjusts just slightly, and suddenly he’s licking at your clit with his nose pressed inside of you.
It’s just a tease, really; the knowledge of it is probably making you more dizzy than the actual sensation. But oh fuck, that nose, that nose, that beautiful fucking nose —if you’d known he’d do this you might’ve jumped his bones a lot sooner. “ Shit , Charlie, yes —“ you whimper, cheek already smushed against the tabletop.
When he pulls away you mourn the loss as well as the position you’re in; you want to see his pretty face decorated in your slick. But then he’s pressing one long, thick finger into you and you’re keening, already clenching around it as he pumps the digit in and out.
“ Fuck , look at you. Perfect little pussy just for me. I’ve wanted you for so fucking long, you know that?” he talks as he fingers you open, rambling, breathless as his free hand palms your ass. “First second I saw you, you were so fucking pissed at me, so gorgeous. Thought you were going to yell at me right there in front of everyone and just the thought got me so hot .”
You let out a shuddering breath as his scissors two of his fingers inside of you; you arch up onto your tiptoes, angling yourself towards him, wanting more . He twists his fingers, curling them in search of the place that will make you whine for him. He finds it much too easily to be fair.
“Never thought you’d want me,” he continues, sounding strained. His free hand disappears from your skin for a moment and you hear fabric rustling, the clink of his belt, the soft sound of a zipper. Your heart rate speeds up in anticipation, but after a moment his hand returns to your hip as if nothing has happened. You wonder what he’d do if you fidgeted, turned around to get a good look at his cock.
“ I want you ,” you say, trying to make a show of it as you clench purposefully around his fingers. “Please, Charlie, I’m ready— I can take it .”
He curses under his breath, hesitates, but then apparently decides to believe you because he tugs his fingers out of you. There’s some more shuffling, and Charlie lets out a soft, shuddering breath. “Condom?” he asks, all quiet, and you reach out behind you blindly, trying to make contact with any part of him that you can.
“No, no, I’m fine, it’s fine—come on .”
Your hand comes in contact with one of his massive thighs, and you hum happily, rubbing your fingertips against his bare skin. He steps closer and suddenly his cock is right there , pressing all hot and urgent against your cunt. Your pussy squeezes around nothing and you sigh in frustration.
“Easy, honey. Be patient .” His voice is low and level, much like the calming voice he’d used for Henry earlier; it makes you squirm. The thick head of his cock slowly smears through your folds, back and forth, back and forth. Charlie lets out a soft groan, one of his large hands settling onto your hip to hold you steady. He makes no move to press into you, the fucking tease —he seems content just pressing himself against your cunt, between your thighs.
“You hear that? Hmm ? Hear how wet you are for me?” His voice is little more than a purr, all quiet so you can listen to the slick, sticky noises your pussy is making. You feel your face flush, and you tense up a bit, nearly embarrassed. Charlie tuts, landing a sharp slap to your ass that makes you gasp. He palms over the sting, leaning over you to nuzzle against your ear. Fuck, he still had all his clothes on .
“No hiding, not from me. Let me in, sweet girl .” His breath is hot against your skin, there for a moment before his body heat disappears again as he straightens back up. There’s a moment where you’re holding your breath, and then he’s slamming into you, splitting you open all at once. All your breath leaves you at once in a cry, and you scrabble at the tabletop to find some way to anchor yourself.
“ Fuck ,” Charlie grunts out, his hands gripping your hips hard, holding you onto his cock. You take a couple shuddering breaths, closing your eyes as you adjust to his size. Shit, he was huge , you could feel him in your fucking stomach . His cock was a delicious ache filling you, and you can’t help but squeeze your pussy around him, like you want him deeper .
“ Jesus Christ ,” he curses, voice hoarse, and he shoves your dress further up your back so he can arch himself down and press a kiss to the middle of your back. He trails his kisses upwards until he’s draped over you again, pressing his nose to the side of your face. “You okay?” His question is murmured to you, shaky and almost timid.
You reach up blindly to brush your palm over the back of his head as you nod. “S’good, Charlie, fuck , you’re so big. Need you to fuck me, please— please .” Your fingers tangle in the ends of his hair, tugging lightly, needing him to move .
Charlie hums, the sound dark and pleased. He starts moving his hips torturously slow, the drag of his cock inside you making you whine. “You need it, do you?” His voice rumbles in his chest, vibrates against your back. “Like this? Or more?”
You want to scream; want to shove him back onto the floor and ride him into oblivion, to take what you need without his teasing. But you swallow back the urge, fumbling for the words he’s searching for. “ More . More, please, Charlie. Harder .”
His hips snap forward and your eyes roll back in your head, mouth falling open as you keen for him. He presses kisses over your jaw, sliding a hand up and around your neck, pulling you up just a little so he can press his lips to yours. His palm presses deliciously against your throat and you moan into his mouth, kissing him hot and hurried.
“ Mmm, fuck , you taste good. Feel even better.” Charlie nips at your bottom lip before arching up just a little to get better leverage, hand still around your throat. “Such a wet, sloppy pussy, just for me, yeah ?” Yes , you chant, yes, yes, yes, yours . And then he’s fucking you in earnest, holding you steady by your neck and hip as he pounds you into the tabletop.
You think you’re probably drooling onto the freshly cleaned wooden surface but you don’t care. All you can do is focus on the feeling of his cock in you, the smack of his hips against your ass, the squelch of your pussy. You’ve got wetness dripping down your thighs; his balls keep slapping against them with each of his powerful thrusts. You know you’d be sliding up the table if he wasn’t holding you down so tightly.
Have you ever been fucked so good? If you have, you can’t remember. There’s nothing in your head but him . Charlie. Charlie, Charlie, Charlie . You think maybe you’re saying his name out loud but you’re so out of it you don’t know for sure. He says your name back to you in a ragged breath, groaning afterwards as if the very word went straight to his cock.
“Next time—“ he pants, leaning back over you to snarl into your ear, “-next time I’m stripping that fucking dress off of you so I can see your pretty tits, have them in my hands.” One of his giant hands paws at your breasts, squeezing over your clothes to accentuate his words. The sensation makes you clench around him hard , and he fucking growls.
“ Fuck , honey, you feel amazing--” His voice breaks and there’s a pause, his hips grinding into you. Charlie lets out a hoarse laugh, pressing his forehead to your shoulder. “You’re gonna make me cum.” The words make you moan, and you nod, fumbling for any part of him you can touch. The thought of him cumming in you, because of you--fuck, it’s all you want.
“Give it to me, Charlie, I need it,” you encourage him, arching your back slightly. He groans, hips stuttering, and you smile, breathless. “C’mon, baby. You wanna cum in me, don’t you? You wanna show me who I belong to--wanna fill me till I’m dripping .” You’re not fully conscious of the words you’re saying, not with your head spinning the way it was, but they seem to do the trick because Charlie shudders and yanks you back against him.
He sets a brutal pace, chasing his own pleasure now that he has permission. He’s fucking impossible noises out of you, ones you aren’t sure you’ve heard yourself make before. It's nearly animalistic, his pace, his grunts, his hands on you.
You love it. You fucking love it.
“ Gonna cum --you’re gonna be so fucking full of me, fuck! ” His hand moves from your throat to slam beside your head, his long fingers stretching to grip the edge of the table until his knuckles turn white. “Gonna f-fill you up and then l-lick it out of you, eat you till you cum all over my face,” he grits out between his teeth, sucking in a strangled gasp--and then he’s slamming his hips into you once more as he cums, filling you with warmth.
Charlie lets out a shaky moan, trembling as he slumps on top of you, chest heaving. You’re still on edge, but you know-- you know --he’ll take good care of you, just like he promised. And he does. Because as soon as he’s caught his breath, as soon as he’s planted a kiss to the back of your neck, he’s helping you to the couch and falling onto his knees in front of you.
“Spread those legs, honey, let me see you.” You do as he asks, reaching out to run your fingers through his damp hair. His eyes are dark as he admires your pussy; as if on cue, you clench, and you feel his cum drip out of you. Charlie lets out a quivering breath, licks over his bottom lip. “Oh, you’re perfect, you sweet girl. Let’s see how many orgasms you have for me,
hmm
?” And with that, he’s pressing his face back between your legs.