“I thought- I thought you said you wanted to wait for marriage?”
Johnny’s throat is dry, eyes locked on your hand as it moves to the hem
of your dress.
“I do. And I am.” Johnny’s eyebrows furrow in
confusion. “I want to wait to have sex with another person, Johnny. I
didn’t say anything about touching myself.”
All the air rushes
out of Johnny’s lungs. He’s definitely hard now, blood leaving his brain
for his dick. It doesn’t matter that he’s had sex before, or that he
has watched way too much porn in his lifetime. Because none of those
girls were you.
There’s a slight smirk on your face, though he can
tell that you’re a little nervous. There’s uncertainty in your eyes, in
your movements. Your hand dips under the material of your dress and he
desperately wishes he could see what you’re doing to yourself.
cock is painfully hard, embarrassingly hard considering barely anything
has happened. Johnny doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything
but, he’s starting to go insane.
The sweetest sigh leaves your
lips and it’s over for him. He palms himself over the fabric of his
jeans, which is a bad idea because he needs more. “Y/N, can I…” he trails off, waving his hand vaguely in the direction of his crotch,
You bite your lip, nodding shyly. “Go for it.”
unzips his jeans and stuffs his hand in his boxers, groaning lowly at
the relief it brings. You swallow thickly, eyes locked on the movement,
even though you can’t see anything. He laughs when he notices and you
quickly avert your gaze, embarrassed.
“Sorry, I’ve just never-
I’ve never seen a dick before. Not in real life, at least.” You sound so
innocent and it fucking- it does something to Johnny.
sudden rush of boldness overtakes him. “Do you want to see mine?” A shy
nod from you, and then he’s pushing his boxers down to mid thigh, his
cock springing up. He hisses at the freedom, strokes speeding up just a
Your lips part and you watch him with hooded eyes, hand
still between your thighs. Johnny starts to feel self conscious when you
don’t say anything, but then you’re leaning closer to get a better
look. “Wow. I didn’t expect that.” You look up at him with wide eyes.
“That’s supposed to fit inside of me?”
He has to bite back a
groan at the thought of being able to fuck you, of having you struggle
to take his big cock in your tiny hole. “Y-yeah. It’s not as bad as it
seems, baby. I’ll take care of you.”
It’s silent as you consider
this. “Huh, I guess I’m not being fair.” Before Johnny can ask what you
mean, you’re scooting back on the mattress, legs spreading a little
wider. You slide your underwear down your legs and then you’re bare
before him, spread out like the most tantalizing feast. His eyes lock on
your center hungrily, glued to the glistening folds, your fingers
pumping in and out of your hole.
“Beautiful.” He breathes,
struggling for air. His mind short circuits for a minute and he has to
tighten his grip on his cock so that he doesn’t come right then. You’re
the perfect picture of innocence, wearing the same white sundress that
you had worn to church. And yet, you’re also the perfect picture of
corruption, your fingers buried in your cunt under your church clothes. A
sweet moan leaves your lips and your eyes close. Johnny wants to ruin
It’s the sweetest form of torture. You’re so close, close
enough that he can hear your ragged breathing, the slick sounds your
fingers make as the pump in and out of your core. And yet, he can’t
touch, can only watch helplessly with his hand tight around his cock.
You whine, as if his attention isn’t already on you. One hand has moved
up to play with a nipple, and it’s only now that he realizes that you
haven’t been wearing a bra. “Johnny, I’m so close.”
He’s been waiting to hear those words for months.
The arousal that slams into him at your words scares him. “Come on
baby, come for me. Pretend those cute fingers of yours are mine, yeah?”
You moan considerably louder at that, hips bucking into your own touch.
can’t. Your hands are so much bigger.” Your movements have turned
erratic, sloppily fucking yourself as you chase your high. “Would feel
so much nicer. Oh, holy- oh.” You barely manage to pant out the
rest of your sentence before you come, gripping tightly onto the sheets
below you. The moans that leave you are so utterly sinful. Johnny’s
never heard anything better in his entire life.
He needs to come
but he doesn’t want to miss a single second of this. Of your beautiful
body twitching and shaking on the mattress, of your thumb rubbing
desperately at your clit, fingers still pumping. You turn your head to
look at him when you come down, a glazed, fucked out look in your eyes.
He’s gone as soon as you make eye contact.
Low grunts of your name
leave him as he comes, ears ringing as he’s hit with wave after wave of
pleasure. Come pools in his hand, some shooting up and landing on his
clothes. You watch the whole time, still panting from your own orgasm.