Brendon Urie: Imagines and ficlets

An Honest Man 2/3

His heavy eyes flutter, those lashes, fuck, the mask just adding to it, and looks up at you, soft, dark and needy. "You ready? Really? Can I? Or something else first? Anything you want..." Nervous too. You cup his cheek, getting your almost sticky now juice on it, and he turns, kisses, licks your palm. Your baby boy... "So fucking gorgeous, everywhere..." Your foot strokes over his dick, balls and he rocks into it, moaning.

You feel so sexy, so sexual with him. All his compliments and praises, invitations with word and deed, like how he loves presenting parts of himself for you to rub on.

"C'mon, honey, lay out on this couch... Think my good, convincing boy deserves lots of rewards."

It's so fucking crazy that making you feel good, getting you off, tasting you, getting your pussy all over him, his dick and balls, belly, breasts, ass, back, thighs, touching you there, watching you, feeling you... is all rewards for him too; he likes them, pussy, sex, women, you to be like that, that much. And not as a foreplay or brief thing, but as the focus, as fucking like he calls so much of what you do together.

Laid out on the couch, reaching out for you, his eyes widen. "Wait—convincing? Did—"

"Honey, didn't mean it like that. Want to do this with my boy. You just let me know you wanted it too. That you'd like it..."

You can't help smooching over his soft muscled tummy as you murmur. Then his silky hot dick, feeling it twitch with your lips and open hand, watching it, cupping his balls, rubbing, licking over the tip. His head thrown back, gasping, mmming, belly moving with his pants, saying this is about you, not him... that he needs to feel you, taste you...

You straddle his hips, rocking your open snatch over his dick and balls, sometimes grinding... Hand stroking over his belly, chest, resting on his flushed sternum, then smooching over it, his breasts. "My good boy... My sweet man..."

His hands in your hair bring you into kisses, tongues caressing.

Fuck, you want to muck your boy up. He loves smelling like you, having your juices dry on him, reluctantly washing it off, sometimes going out scented by you. He said he wanted people to know that he's yours, that you belong together, that he's made you feel good with all of him, helped you come so many ways. Like you've wound up feeling about his semen too. The taste was... bleachy, but less bitter than other guys, and was even nice mixed with flavored lube, or saliva, or your slick, and getting your fluids all over each other, except for on your face? Sign you both up.

You felt bad about him getting your juices all over his face without taking his on yours, but he's never even asked for that. He half-joked half-"learn from my overeager stupidity"'d one time about getting another guy's in his eye and how painful, dry, itchy red eye ruined any appeal in that. At least directly, porn style. But nuzzling your cheek, chin over his belly, pelvis, thighs after he's jizzed on them. He loves getting his own spunk on himself too. Even sucking on and tonguing the tip, jacking him, him spurting over your tongue and you dribbling it out over your chin...

He cleans you up with his mouth usually too, or hands, or in the shower when you really should get cleaned up: off your face, neck, belly, inner thighs, vulva, vagina... Sometimes he pulls you into kisses before he comes, holds you, as you jack him, or you squish together some way with his dick between you both or on you, grinding on him too, sometimes looking into each others eyes, or watching his eyes close, face awash with such pleasure... When you're not 69ing, anyway...

It doesn't feel like what it felt like with other guys. Like how they'd pull out to jack off and jizz on your face, with the two boyfriends you put up with that with, feeling disgusted, like a one of those dolls that exist for men to masturbate in and on or something.

But Brendon even loves your menstrual blood, gets it all over him, saying it's just your femaleness, more juice, and you mean all over him, towels, even bedding... When he uses his own jizz to stroke himself, or rubs it on himself, or mouths it off you, and how he treats your slick especially like it's from a fucking goddess or...

None of it makes you feel gross or used but like you want to marinate in each other's juices, fucking for hours. Sleeping in the mix after, cuddling which likely leads to less needy fucking, lazing about, playing video games, cooking...

B would come inside if you told him he could and it was one of the times you craved him inside too, feeling sloppy, full, open from wetness, hours of arousal, coming. Sometimes making you wait even longer especially earlier on, or just until you came a couple times and needed it, engulfed him, then back to fucking each other in more ways. A guy who wouldn't take "fuck me" as a call to switch to penetration that way then end things with his orgasm, maybe a half-hearted one for you after if you were lucky, but would fuck you all sorts of ways, help you come and come, let you play with him back, usually just to make him feel even better, sometimes going for another round for himself too.

It took you a while to acclimate, thinking at first something was wrong: with you, the relationship, him even because he didn't rush, didn't initiate that, kept fucking other ways, would even use tongue, fingers, toys, the occasional suitable household item first or instead to see if that satisfied the ache. He certainly went along with it if you pined him and rode him that way too though, limbs wrapped around him, hand often wrapped around his dick, drawing him in or driving down on him, on your sides or him on top... Often other parts did a better job depending on where you needed it, how, massaging your front wall, firm or softer, gently stroking even back on and around the cervix, focusing on the rim and the bulbs around the labia and shallowly inside, circling around, whether you wanted to grind on another part of him with something inside or rub on his dick and pelvis...

Guys weren't supposed to be like that, and it took you time to realize you usually didn't mean it when you told him to fuck you like that at first, when you told other guys it too. It was usually disappointing if you quelled it early, pulled things short for your arousal and orgasm and sex generally. Riding the ache out was usually better and gradually soothed it or it faded, coming, teasing, grinding, touching, kissing, squeezing... other ways first and even instead... You didn't realize it was a choice before. Asking for that one way to fuck of many less and less until it became an occasional borderline need, an actual choice. Maybe 15% of the time did you realize it was actually there, particularly when menstruating which made you feel open, sometimes empty. Thanking fuck for those all those who taught him in high school, the women he helped open up after, Sarah...

Usually you'd do other things, for him too: he'd slide between or over your labia or thighs until he came. Or rock between both your bellies if he was wet, squished between you. Often coming when you were rubbing over him, moving how it felt best for you. From you rubbing your vulva on his balls while jacking him, thumbing the tip... Or him in your arms, touching himself, you touching him, or both: him between your legs back to belly, or front to his side, or spooning him, or while rubbing on his ass, thigh, tummy, calf in any position you two could get in comfortably... You humping the bed while he humped between your thighs, or your ass, between the cheeks too, like you did the other way around more often.

You're bleeding a little bit, your periods sporadic and light after the first month with the iud, but it or your slick wouldn't mess up the couch as long as you didn't flip him on his belly to have your way with his back, ass, back of his thighs... later.

His hands stroke your hips, pelvis, lower belly, breathing deep, pressing back along you. "Little crampy huh?" You nod. It must've showed on your face or body language although you thought it wouldn't. It was an achiness, an opening up, not a sharp pain, or like you want to rip your uterus out like it could get before the hormonal iud. "Wanna relax, darling?"

You grin, rock firmer long him. "I am, B..." You tilt so you're firm on your bulbs, achy there too, bearing down, releasing, bearing down, trying to relax your uterus, ease some blood along, make you slicker from the pressure too. One of his hands on your back, the other your belly, massaging until you squish to him, smooching over his face, lips, and both are on your back, hips... Fuck he's so sexy, especially in that mask. You'll have to have him wear it again... Maybe wear one too...