frat hat

Right Round [Pt. 2] [a Kyle Spencer smut]


a/n: frat kyle is my weakness…


Part 1

Sweaty bodies bump into Kyle as he tries to get to the back of the strip club. Coming here without his frat brothers isn’t his smartest plan. He needed to though. It has been three days since he got laid…and it isn’t that he wants to have sex again, maybe a little; he wan- no, needs to see her. So, he sits alone in an uncomfortable black booth and waits.

His shaking hands are stuffed into his yellow and blue letterman jacket while he peers around. There is very few people here; a few strippers, some businessmen, probably because it’s a Tuesday night. Slouching, he sighs inwardly; what if that girl isn’t even working tonight? This is such a stupid idea.

A pair of violet heels stop in front of Kyle. “W-why are you back and alone?” The girl whispers, clutching the grey tray to her chest.

Kyle gulps, “I want to talk t-”

“I’m working, so…” She cuts him off, shaking her head. The tiny purple hat that’s in her hair starts falling out. Avoiding him, she looks down. “I gotta make more drinks.” She huffs, playing with the tray.

Frowning, the frat boy pushes the hat up her hair; she blushes. “What if you were working and talking?” He bites his lip; not taking no for an answer. Sighing through her nose, she grabs his hand, dragging him toward the silver bar. She puts the tray down, nodding to the bartender before going down the narrow hallway. This is deja vu for him; they go in the same room. It would be a lie if Kyle said he wasn’t excited.

The door slams closed and she jabs his chest with her pointer finger, stepping forward. “Why did you call me that? Nobody calls me that during sex.” She frowns, squinting her eyes. It’s clear she’s mad.

Kyle falls back on the bed, groaning. “First of all, please stop doing that!” He shouts, sitting up on his elbows, “Secondly, why can’t I call you beautiful, beautiful? You are…very much so…” He smirks; his jacket falling off his shoulders, down his arms. She shakes her head, kneeling on the silver sheets. “C-can I show you?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Show me wh-” His lips connect to hers, catching her by surprise. The jacket piles on the floor, leaving him in a dark blue t-shirt. She leans back and he crawls on top of her, straddling her waist. He stares at her in awe, mouth ajar; his hands roam from her stomach to her breasts, unclipping the front. Ducking his head, he bites and sucks on her neck, making red marks. “Y/N, m-my name…is Y/N.” She moans, turning her head to the side.

A throaty groan escapes his lips as he rips the neon purple underwear off her. He shoves them in his pocket before tugging his black skinny jeans down his legs. “Y/N, beautiful. Like you, baby.” He purrs, pushing himself in her.

She whimpers, gripping his biceps. Smirking, he pumps in and out fast, watching her breasts bounce in front of him. “Ky-le, I…can’t…” She moans, walls clenching and knot forming in her lower stomach.

Kyle pounds harder and faster, rubbing his thumb on her cilt. Sweat coats the front of his t-shirt; his bright blond curls mat to his forehead. “Cum for me, beautiful.” He urges, hitting her G-spot just right. She cries his name one more time before he pulls out, both panting heavily. He falls on the bed, looking at her. “Now do you believe me, beautiful?” He whines, giving her a not-so-confident smile.

A sigh pushes past her lips. She glances at him, sniffling slightly. “I’m starting to.”

“Then I guess I need to try harder then.” He says in his cocky frat boy voice. Challenge accepted.