Random One Shots

Random one shots with actors, musicians/bands and characters.

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54. Martin Freeman 7

~Imagine Martin naked on hands and knees, head bowed down against braced hands. His skin is dewy and pale, slathered with sweat, hair damp and dark—you can see little rivulets dripping down the nape of his neck, and fuck, you’re borderline wanting to lick him all over, he smells so tasty. You run a finger down the slick valley of his spine, and eat it—that will have to do.
Martin’s legs are shaking—you’ve rimmed and teased at his asshole with that dildo for ages. He’s down to moaning and wordless begging, thrusting his ass at the toy whenever you venture the tip anywhere near his hole, urging you to push deeper inside him. You were just going to keep playing around, but you’ve seen his poor hard cock swinging about, dripping precome all over the floor, and you decide to take pity on him.
You grab the head of his cock so hard he squeals. Smear your palm into the puddles on the floor to get more precome on your hands. So you can lather up said dildo good and proper. Because this won’t be gentle. You pause a moment, not even warning Martin before you shove the dildo right into his asshole, as far as he can take it, and by God can he take it. Two thirds in with your first thrust. He screams and wrings his hands.
"Aww, poor Marty can’t take a bit of dildo up his ass," and you laugh, knowing that he fucking hates being called Marty, that it just rubs salt into the wound.
But he doesn’t show any apparent concern at all. “More…give me more…” He pleads, and that higher pitched tone is sweet fucking music to your ears.
"How much more Marty?"
He mumbles, as if to himself.
"Huh, what was that again? I can’t hear you." You ask, louder this time.
"ALLLLL OF IT!!!" He yells, so you give him another thrust, harder than before. You feel him resisting as you tear into his body, screaming at the top of his lungs, deep enough inside that your clenched knuckle holding the toy nears his rim. And he’s practically gnawing at his clenched knuckles. You pause, slightly worried at how much that really hurt, before withdrawing again, gently.
"Again, like that, do it again!!" He’s giddy and probably delirious, you can see it in his wild black eyes as he swings around to watch and make sure you’re doing it right. You just greet him with a sneer.
"You’re such a pathetic little bitch, aren’t you? Always aching and easy for cock." You thrust harshly again, and again, slapping your fist against his ass as you develop a rhythm. He’s keening, grinding hard into your thrusts, frustrated at being unable to touch his cock, which is so dark and erect at this point it looks about ready to burst. "Even your little friend here can’t get enough. Can he now?" You reach around and give him a few languid tugs, which leaves him gasping. "You’re my little bitch, aren’t you?”
"Yes."
"Well, say it."
"I…I’m…your little bitch," he murmurs. It’s beautiful to hear and see how curt and humbled he looks, but even better to touch. To find out just how bad he is. You lean over him and grab a clump of his hair at the base of his scalp, and he chuckles, pushing himself back up onto his hands. Because he knows what you’re about to do, and you’re so fucking wet hearing his laugh you will need to sit on his face afterwards and have him laugh like that into your pussy while eating you up. But first things first.
You jerk him up towards you, panting, speeding up your rhythm, sharply corkscrewing the slightly curved dildo. It strings out groans from him, the toy rounding out a new path inside him each time, cries that grow lower and lower, into growls.
"HAAARD!! HAAAAARDER!!" He peers over his shoulder at you, right before his gaze slides out of focus, back arching into orgasm, bucking into you. You end up lying on his back, sprawled face first on the floor.
Martin recovers first, twisting underneath you to face you, take you by the chin into his hands while you toss the dildo away. He squeezes you between his knees, cock pressing insistently at your bush as he kisses you, mouth all slack and slippery. You wonder if maybe you should sit on his face later.
Not that you actually get the chance to make that choice when he’s rolled you over. Knelt back and flipped you onto your stomach so swiftly you barely get a chance to blink.
"Now it’s your turn to be my bitch." He winks jauntily with a smile, and slaps your ass hard enough to make you howl.
Jesus Christ, you’re totally done for.
 

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