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Fuck Him, He's A DJ

This is something I wrote purely for myself last summer and kinda uploaded on a whim. I have no actual experience of this kind of sex, but a girl can dream. Also, I have no idea how to handle criticism so you're all obliged to be extra nice to me.

*****

I'm bored.

It's always boring in the studio. Beats, plug-ins, overlays, melodies - it's all a foreign language to me, and I was never very good at those. I mean, I can appreciate the end product: my boyfriend is pretty much a musical genius. But as far as behind the scenes goes - well. It's just not my scene.

I find my mind wandering as midnight approaches. I'm lying on the sofa while he's writing the future of EDM on his laptop. Boredom seems to have magnified my every sense, and I find myself studying his profile with an acute intensity - the strong curve of his jawline; the movement of his long, tanned fingers across the keyboard; the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes in and out, in and out. How the toning of his muscles makes his black T-shirt cling to him just a little with every inspiration. The undiluted concentration in his eyes as he stares at the screen in front of him. The little fluttering of his lips as he mutters something to himself.

It's no good resisting.

I get up and slowly make my way over to him. He doesn't even notice until my hands are sliding down his broad shoulders and twining across his chest.

"Hello beautiful." He twists his head to the side and grins up at me. I don't reply, and envelop his smile in a kiss. He tastes of spearmint, nighttime and ever so vaguely my own cunt from a few hours ago. The combination makes me moan into the warm wetness of his mouth.

He pulls back and laughs. "Not now, Jones. International hits don't write themselves, you know."

I can't help it. I pout. He laughs harder and reaches up to wind a finger through my hair.

"Go to bed, baby girl. Wait for me there. I'll only be an hour or so. Promise."

"Oh, but DAD-dy..." I know what that word does to him. I straddle his lap in one swift movement and kiss him again, one hand running through his dark hair, tangling at the back, pulling slightly. It's a slow, deep, long kiss - the kind where air becomes irrelevant and the only thing that matters is his mouth pressed against yours and his tongue at the back of your throat. I moan into him again and shift my ass ever so slightly - just enough to elicit a growl as I graze his dick through his jeans.

"Isla. I mean it." He breaks away again and looks me sternly in the eye.

I beam. Stern him is my favourite him.

"Mean what, Daddy?" I shuffle backwards so my hand can run across his dick, which is growing ever harder in his jeans.

"Jesus." He lets his head loll back over the chair as I continue to stroke at his burgeoning cock and run my lips across his jawline and down his neck. I kiss the hollow at the base. I find his sweet spot and bite gently, which always makes him moan. One hand finds my ass and squeezes tight while the other knots into my hair as I continue to trace my tongue over his collarbone. God, my spit looks so good glistening on his skin.

"You're being a very bad girl, Isla Jones. You know that?" he whispers into my hair.

"Mmm. I can't help it. I'm sorry, Daddy," I breathe as I bring his T-shirt over his head and shuffle backwards more so I can slide his jeans down. He is so beautiful in just his Calvin Klein boxers. His dick is straining at the fabric, so thick, so hard, so ready for me. The thought of it makes my breath catch in my throat.

"Then you also know I can't let this go unpunished," he says - and in one fluid move I am off his lap and on my knees on the floor while he stands over me. I gasp as he rips my blouse open and buttons scatter all over the studio floor, but there's no time to get mad because his hand is immediately at the back of my head and pushing me down on his dick. I gag at the sudden intrusion; he holds me down fast, right to the hilt, and grinds into my face as I choke over his huge length. My breath comes in a ragged gasp when he finally yanks my head back.

"You still want to do this?" It's not a question. I don't have time to assent before my lips are forced back over his dick. He drives in and out of my wet mouth mercilessly, hitting my gag reflex almost every time as he slides down my throat. I reach up to stroke his balls as spit runs down my chin in wild streams. All I can hear are his guttural moans and my own slurping over his gorgeous fat cock in my mouth.

"Oh God, baby." He pulls at the messy waves of my hair, tilting my head up until my wide eyes meet his, glazed over with ecstasy. "Look at me while you suck my dick, you beautiful bitch."

I moan over his dick, and the vibrations make him tighten his grip in my hair as he guides me over his length. I love looking up at him, so high above me. I know he loves my face when it's wet with my own saliva, my mouth stretched and aching around his dick. The look in his eyes - wild and hungry and dominant - is enough to absolutely flood my pussy.

"Jesus Christ. You're killing me, baby girl." He tilts his head back and sighs as he drives his dick further down into my throat. I run my tongue across his head every time he withdraws, making sure I graze the most sensitive little ridge. I can tell he's close.

And then suddenly I'm pulled off of him completely, my entire head burning by the strength of his fist locked into my hair.

"Ow!"

He grins crookedly, leans down and pulls me into him, his mouth hot and wet and delicious against my ear. "You like choking on my dick, huh, princess? Being treated like a little whore? You like gagging on that thick cock in your mouth?"

"Ugh. Please. Yes, Daddy. Fuck, yes."

He slaps me sharply across the face and beams. "That's right. You've been a good girl for me today." He pulls me to my feet roughly by my hair. "And you know what happens to good girls."

"They get rewarded?" I breathe.

"Mmmm." He tugs my shorts and panties down in a heartbeat. "That they do, princess. That they do."

He runs a finger across my slit and grins at my wetness. For one delicious moment, the spell is broken. "Christ, Isla. You're fucking SOAKing."

I smile and shrug. "Only for you, Daddy."

His finger is still rubbing ever so softly, ever so gently, down across my slit. I'm so wet, I can't help sucking him inside a little. I arch my back, needing him like fire, like the desert needs rain.

"God, you feel so good." He stops and looks at me awhile. We are suspended for a second - his lips touch mine ever so lightly, and I read nothing but love in his eyes.

Then he grins wickedly and plunges three fingers into my cunt.

"Fuck!" I scream, and would have fallen to my knees were it not for his suddenly picking me up and throwing me across his desk. Microphones and keyboards clatter to the floor, but for once he doesn't seem to care. He straddles my naked body and looks unflinchingly into my face as he continues to fuck me brutally with his fingers while his thumb describes fast circles on my clit. There's no time for feeling self-conscious - I writhe and scream beneath him, my wetness practically pouring out of me and pooling on the metal. He uses his other hand to spread my legs wide so my tight pink cunt is entirely at his mercy. I close my eyes and groan, unable to stand it much longer.

"Oh, God...Daddy...please..." I gasp and buck beneath him as his fingers hit that secret sweet spot inside me again and again. "Please Daddy oh God please I need you inside of me right now."

"What? What do you need?" he teases, curling his fingers expertly inside me.

"PLEASE DADDY FUCK ME PLEASE, I WANT YOU TO SPLIT ME IN HALF, DESTROY MY PUSSY, OH GOD ANYTHING PLEASE I JUST NEED TO COME - "

"Alright, calm down." He laughs and slips his fingers out of me. The sudden feeling of emptiness could kill me.

But thankfully it doesn't last, for in the next breath he's impaled me with his beautiful long dick, still dripping wet and rock hard from me blowing him. I don't think I've ever screamed so loud in my entire life.

It always hurts, at first. Sometimes he's gentle. Today he isn't.

"Take it," he growls as he pins my arms above my head with one hand and goes back to torturing my clit with the other. I moan and struggle beneath him, my fingers raking lines across the smooth planes of his back and chest as he stretches my cunt and fills me up with his delicious manhood. I am doused in sweat. His mouth descends and fastens on my tits in turn, each one bouncing and sparkling with sweat as he fucks me into oblivion. My nipples rise up to meet him and the tingling feeling spreads right down into my pussy.

I have a feeling this won't take long.

The intensity of his hot mouth on my tits, lips and neck, combined with the aching beauty of having him inside me, is just too much. He's hitting it again and again, that burning little place deep inside of me; so disgustingly perfect every time. He looks absolutely fucking beautiful, lost in our shared ecstasy above me, never once taking his ocean-blue eyes off mine. I call out his name as I come in a rush of darkness and perfection - harder than I've ever come in my entire life.

Seconds later, as his thrusts become ever harder and faster, I feel the familiar heat rush into me as his own orgasm splashes out in jets of thick white against my cervix. It's so raw, so visceral, so primitive - I could die.

Afterwards - as he slips, achingly sweet, out of me, and his sticky come begins to dribble down my thighs - he kisses me, soft and slow and deep. Our lips and tongues braid together: for the first time, our eyes close. He feels divine against me, his gorgeous, naked body upon my own.

Nothing but skin, love, and damn good sex.

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