smut imagines

paul dano

Paul grazes your hand and points to the TV saying, "look, this is the best part," with a mouthful of chips. You watch his hand fall back on the couch beside your legs.

You'd been dating for a few weeks now but every time he touched you—you got chills. All you wanted to do was kiss him, his neck, his chest, his thighs.

You stared at him for a couple seconds, watching his mesmerization with the movie he directed. It's a little dorky, I'll admit, but he's just so proud of it.

Finally I grab his chin and gently turn his face to me.

"Hey," he says softly, smiling.

"Hey."

You try to find your words but he had already begun to kiss your hands. He followed up your arm and eventually to your neck, causing you to moan quietly. He always kissed you on the collarbone just enough so that you wouldn't develop a hickey, but it felt just right.

"Paul," you almost whispered it.

He hums in response, still kissing around your neck.

"You bumped the remote, babe," I chuckle a little. "I think we're watching it in German."

He pulls away, looking at the TV in shock.

"Oops." He grins. "I wasn't watching it anyways."

He continues his trail and eventually cups your face and kisses your lips, ever so lightly. He takes his thumb and tugs on your lower lip, making eye contact.

You kiss him, harder this time, and put your hand to his chest, resting on his cold, black t-shirt. The room felt like it was spinning around you. You loved getting to touch his skin, feel his breath on you.

Sometimes you feel things so overwhelmingly you can't control your reactions. Next thing you know you're pushing him onto the couch on his back, lifting up his shirt, kissing down his happy trail. You'd had sex, but it was very conventional. You were never rough with him. Not until now.

You stop to look at him, his eyes glued to the ceiling. He looks as if he's holding back moans.

You unzip his jeans and rub your hand over his dick. He's already hard.

"Fuck," he blurts out, arching his back, eyes still on the ceiling.

"You like that baby?" you ask, continuing to slowly rub his area.

His moans got a little louder. "Yes,"

You crawl up to where his face is and wrap your hand around his neck, barely squeezing. He looks at you with the most hurt puppy look you've ever seen on him. So submissive.

"Yes what?" you inquire.

He gulps. "Yes, mommy,"

"Good boy."

You return to his boxers and peel them off of him. Your finger traces his tip. He winces.

Continuing to edge him, you take your shirt off, revealing a black bralette. He sees this and his mouth drops. The cutest thing is he probably does it unintentionally.

You remove the bralette slowly and begin to rub his tip between your tits. It felt so good but you didn't dare show it. You liked showing him who's boss way too much. His whimpers were like instant heroin.

"God," he breathed.

You kept alternating rhythms—fast, slow. fast, slow.

"Please, baby, don't tease me," he begged.

You gave in and placed his dick in your throat, almost gagging, but stopping yourself. You held it with one hand and sucked all the way to its base.

He was moaning louder now.

"Fuck, fuck," his back arched once more.

"Don't come yet," you command, coming up for air.

"But," he whined.

You place a hand over his mouth to shut him up and make eye contact as you put his dick in your mouth, beginning to bob your head up and down at a slow enough rhythm to drive him crazy.

He continues grunting, muttering "shit," and "baby" every so often.

You finally decide to be nice and let your good boy come.

"Come for me baby," you jerk him off with your left hand, your other wandering up to his mouth. "Come,"

He sucks your fingers and tugs at your hair, breathing heavily. "Fuck, fuck, fuckk," His warm liquid squirts all over his stomach.

You lick all up and down his abs; he's still breathing like he ran a marathon. He meets you were you are and sloppily kisses you for what seems like an eternity. He finally flops back down on the couch, staring at the ceiling again, letting his arm fall on his lower stomach.