Better Than You Expected

509 9 4
                                    

Warning(s)
Smut
Language

You had a feeling he was going to be worse than c/n. And that his dick is going to be smaller than his too. But you were completely wrong on both accounts. As he leaned down, your faces almost touching, you looked up at him, breathing heavily, the sexual tension in the air THICK. Matthew grabs the hem of your silk dress and pulls it over your head, cautiously not trying to damage the fabric, knowing it was probably expensive. He fiddled with his belt for a moment before taking it off, unzipping his black slacks, and pulling them off, along with his Calvin Klein boxers underneath. You were nervous to see the size; he was actually decent. About 9 inches, you would say. He's the biggest you've had. His dick may be big, but you knew he was a virgin. He couldn't pull a single girl besides Ramona since middle school. You were also wrong. I mean- he could have been a virgin, but the way he pleased you made you question your statement. He seriously knew what he was doing, and how to please girls. He knew all the right spots to put his hands, he knew the motion for sucking nipples, and the way to pinch them. The circular finger motions on your clit, the thrust speed, when he should go faster, he knew it all. He slowly inserted himself into you with a low groan, his hands gently grabbing your hips. He thrusted slow and deep at first, but slowly picked up speed, his thrusts getting quicker and less deep, but it somehow felt good. He groans, leaning down and sucking on your left tit, his tongue swirling circles around your nipple, his other hand pinching and rubbing the other one. He knew exactly how to please you, because you came. Extremely fast. For the first time. Ever. Your phone starts ringing from inside your purse, but you ignore it, gripping the bedsheets and tilting your head back, moaning as Matthew continued to please you. He eventually let go of your nipple, his body going upright once again, his thrusts getting even faster, one of his hands going to your clit, his ring and middle finger creating a circular motion on your cum covered clit. This sent you over the edge once again, cumming for the second time. "Do you- want me to pull out when I cum?" Matthew asks, his voice low. "N-no! You feel too good~! Don't pull out~!" You tell him, your moans getting louder, bringing him closer and closer to his release. His dick hits a spot. A good spot. A spot that makes you scream with pleasure as soon as his tip hits it; your g-spot. No guy has hit it before, and you're surprised it was Matthew who hit it. Matthew fucking Patel. Your theatre enemy. The guy you didn't want to kiss in the play, was the one to hit your g-spot. As soon as he hits it and heard your scream, he smirks, slowing down his thrusts and slowly hitting it with every thrust, causing a loud moan to erupt from your throat each time. A few more thrusts and he shoves his entire length into you, balls deep, filling you up with his seed, letting out a long groan of delight, pulling out of you with a pop, lying down beside you. "You're amazing." You tell him, looking over at him. "I know. No need to remind me." He says confidently, smiling. "How were you so good? Did you do research or something?" You ask him. He nods. "I did some research. Saved it for you." He shrugs, putting his hands behind his head. "Why did you save it for me?" You ask him, raising an eyebrow. "Because I like you, foolish girl." He says, rolling his eyes. He likes you? Like, like likes you? You weren't expecting that, and neither have you committed to a relationship since middle school. "Oh. Well I.. like you too." You tell him, smiling. "Don't lie." He says, getting off the bed and pulling his boxers and slacks back on, putting his hands in his pockets. "But Matthew, I'm not lying." You tell him, sitting up in bed and slipping your dress on, approaching him. "Yes you are. All we do is kiss at the end of the play. Nothing more." He tells you sternly, leaving the bedroom, and the party altogether. You frown, leaving as well and going back home, disappointed. You climb in through your window, your parents barging into your room, furrowing their eyebrows at your outfit. "Y/n! Where were you?! And why are you dressed like a slut?!" Your mom yells, clenching her teeth. Fuck. You're in trouble.

The Act of Theatre (MATTHEW PATEL X FEM READER)Dove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora