Chapter Text
In the shadowed quiet of the night, a soft moan threads through the stillness, stirring you from the depths of sleep. It's a moment suspended in time, where the fog of unconsciousness slowly lifts, allowing you to piece together the unexpected reality you've found yourself in.
Pressed closely against you is Joel, his presence unmistakable. The breadth of his frame envelopes your back, his thick arms encircling your waist. You're both lying on your side, entwined in a way that suggests intimacy, yet underlined with a hint of awkwardness that comes from unintended closeness.
You and Joel have been sharing a sleeping bag for the past couple of weeks since yours decided to grow legs and walk off to who the fuck knows where.
It’s mid-April, and while your skin is sun warm during the day, the nights are a different story. Once the sun dips below the horizon and the embers of the fire fade, you crave a warmth only he can seem to provide. Skin on skin, bodies pinned together under the nylon.
If you had it your way, you’d go to sleep in nothing but your bra and underwear, but Joel was quick to squash that idea.
“You’re asking for trouble, sweetheart.”
“Oh come on, Joel. It’s no different than a swimsuit.”
“The fuck it is, it’s bad enough that we have to share a bag, can’t have you half-naked on top of it.”
“Fine,” you sigh.
“Fine.” He thought that was the end of it, until —
“Can you at least take off your jeans? They’re dirty.”
It took some negotiation on that one, but he finally came around. Joel knows that you have a crush on him, but he’s never acted on it and swears to himself that he never will. You deserve more, better, anything but the man he’s become. But god, you make it fucking hard. Hard for him to behave, hard for him to keep his hands to himself, but above all, you just make him hard.
He’s usually good about finding time, even if it’s just minutes, to take care of himself. But it’s been over a week, and the war he rages with his cock every night is one he’s starting to lose. Each sunset ushers in another round of relentless conflict, drawing him closer and closer to the edge of temptation.
In the day it’s easy to lock away the thoughts of all the things he’d like to do to you under lock and key in his mind, to focus on the tasks at hand, to focus on keeping you safe, keeping you alive.
And it works, because you think all he sees you as is something delicate and fragile, innocent, but his cock hard at your back has you feeling anything but.
His fingers dig into the meat of your hips and clench around your pelvis. He’s not putting much weight into it, but his hold is still strong enough to leave imprints on your skin.
A deep groan vibrates through his chest, followed by a needy whine that goes straight to your core. Joel moves closer like he’s trying to absorb you into his body. His weight and the jerky movements of his hips are enough to force your body to roll over onto your belly. His hips start grinding hard against your ass like he’s trying to get deeper, closer.
Another breathy moan weaves itself between a snore and a sentence murmured in half-sleep, your name lingering on the edge of coherence.
Is this really happening right now? You pinch yourself just to be sure.
Joel nuzzles closer to your neck, burying his face in your hair. You feel his breath hot on your back, the warmth of his lips gently parted on your skin. He nibbles at your shoulder, causing a sharp twinge of pain to run through you, straight to your pussy. Your walls clench harder around nothing, and your inner thighs start to feel sticky from your arousal.
He feels so strong lying on top of you like this, just taking whatever pleasure he can from you. You know this is wrong, but it excites you way more than it should, to be used like this without him even knowing. You’re sure that he would be horrified if he knew how he was treating you right now. The thought makes you even wetter.
“Fuck,” you moan, not loud enough to wake him.
It would be so easy to just spread your legs a tiny bit, to reach down and move your panties to the side, to drag the fabric of his underwear down and let him have his way with you.
But that would be wrong, stupid, even.
This is wrong.
He doesn’t know what he’s doing and you know he’ll hate himself for it in the morning, but fuck, you want him so much. Even if he’s not consciously aware of what he’s doing, you can’t help but feel like he wants it to.
The opportunity to feel him like this might never arise again.
The protective, in-control you know isn’t home right now, instead the touch-starved, needy dark passenger you know lives within him has come out to play, and you want so badly to be wrecked by him.
The risks outweigh the benefits, but fuck it —
You slowly shimmy and drag the thin fabric of your panties down to your thighs. If he wakes up you could always play the innocent, pretend that he did all this while you were still sleeping, but you already know you wouldn’t be able to lie to him like that; even if you did, he’d see right through it.
It’s one thing doing this, taking advantage of Joel’s wet dream to satisfy yourself, but you will not lie to him about it. You’ll tell him the truth when he wakes up. You will.
You think you’re going to have to drag Joel’s underwear down, but much to your surprise, you realize he’s wearing the kind with the entrance at the front. Thank fuck for that.
As he continues to grind against you, you reach your hand back and in through the slip in the fabric and feel the soft silk of his skin, the coarse hair that rests at the base of him. You can’t see it, but from the feel of it, you can tell he’s big. So much so that you wonder if he’ll even fit through the opening of the fabric. It takes some doing, but you manage to make it work. You position his cock at a good angle, and feel his precum, all warm and sticky, beading at the tip of him.
It’s a dizzying feeling, to feel his bare cock pressed up against you, so desperate to find a home inside your warm cunt.
You pause, listening for any sign that he’s going to wake at the new sensation. Once you’re confident he’s still in dreamland, you spread your legs and adjust your hips under him, lining his cock up just right with your dripping folds.
The head of his cock only barely manages to slip past your outer lips, searching for that place where the resistance will give in and be replaced with pleasure.
Suddenly it all feels too real, and you have a brief moment of reconsideration. Just as you’re about to find a way to shy away from under him and slip your underwear back on, a deep groan reverberates through his chest. It’s throaty and needy, like his body can sense your hesitation, and is doing everything in its power to convince you to give in.
You can’t help it. You just can’t stop yourself. The sounds he’s making, the way he’s holding onto you like his life depends on it, makes it impossible to deny him, and yourself, much longer.
“Please don’t wake up Joel, please don’t wake up…” you silently whisper before your legs slide to the edges of the sleeping bag, permitting just enough space for you to fully bare your dripping cunt to him.
The new position allows Joel’s hips to move closer to yours and the mushroom tip of his cock slides right up against your wet and waiting hole. It presses in about an inch before he pulls back with a whine. He thrusts a few more times, but every time he never sinks deeper than the first inch.
You gently bow your back, tilting your hips up ever so slightly, and reach your hand back, guiding him in. You know it won’t be hard for him to glide in with how wet you are, all he needs is to find the right position. Using your fingers, you press on the side of his cock, and a second later he’s bottoming out with a quick snap of his hips.
“Joel, Fuck —” you moan, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. The stretch of him is intense. A moan escapes your lips, and you know you’re not going to get a moment to adjust to his size. If he was awake, he might be a bit more considerate, give you a second to accommodate the thickness of him, but he’s not. You muffle your sounds by biting into the flesh on your forearm, willing the subtle taste of salt and dirt to distract you from the dull burn you feel below.
The jerky grinding snaps of his hips return at full force. There’s no finesse to the way he fucks you, no gentleness or soft caresses – he’s using you for his pleasure, blissfully unaware of the bruises he littering all over your shoulders and hips.
Your only function to him right now is to be a tool for his pleasure, to be a hole for him, and you couldn’t be more turned on by the thought, even if you tried.
“Yes Joel, fuck, fuck me like you mean it,” you encourage him softly.
You know he can’t hear you, but the words come naturally, making you feel powerful; like you’ve played some role in getting him to this point. He’s always in control, always on, never letting anything slip. And thank god he is, it’s a necessity of survival, a skill you don’t have. But right now you’re relishing in the fact that you feel like you’ve gotten him to be like this, that you’re the one calling the shots for once.
You’re not just being used, you’re allowing him to use you.
It’s not going to last long. You know that.
Sometimes you hear him jacking off next to you in the middle of the night, but god knows how long it’s been since he’s had the warmth of a pussy.
You start to feel his body tremble and tense. If he were awake right now, you’d hope he’d be cursing your name and trying to hold on until you had come, but he doesn’t. He never slows down and never loosens his grip on you, he just continues to take and take and take.
He slams himself into you for a final time, flooding milky white ropes of his cum inside your walls. He’s deep, every inch of him is inside of you, and the thought of him so deep, holding all of his cum inside of you, causes the coil in your belly to tighten even more. When he’s done he doesn’t roll off you, instead, he goes limp, almost like he’s fallen further into his sleep state.
His cock doesn’t disappear instantly either and that’s what makes you silently curse again. You didn’t get to finish and your pussy is clenching around him desperately. God, you want so badly to come.
His hips still grind against your ass with the aftershocks of his pleasure, providing small pangs of arousal that keep you on the edge, but not enough to get you to where you so desperately want to go. His body is dead weight against you.
Frustrated doesn’t even begin to describe how you are feeling. And to top of off, you’re lightheaded from the lack of oxygen your lungs can take in, and your heart is thrumming in your chest.
You’re so close. So fucking close.
You manage to shift just enough for your hand to find a way to your dripping pussy. You press a couple of fingers to your clit and tilt your hips up, making Joel’s softening, but still semi-hard cock slide deeper into you.
You begin the slow climb towards the cliff of your orgasm, slowly fucking yourself on Joel’s cock and rubbing your clit. It doesn’t feel as great as when he was thrusting into you, but his cum trapped inside you makes the slide of his cock so much more pleasurable against your g-spot. A little bit of him dribbles out with each thoughtless thrust, adding to the wetness that makes your fingers circle easily over your aching bud.
Your mouth once again finds your forearm as you get closer, the perfect gag to muffle your sweet whimpers. Your walls clench tighter around Joel, making him whimper from overstimulation, but you don’t care. He got his, and now it’s your turn.
You work tight circles on your clit and you finally feel the pressure build to a point that it has to release. Your orgasm blossoms inside of you, and you let the undertow of pleasure lull you deeper into the ground, melting under the weight of him.
Seconds turn to minutes, and you feel sleep make a slow creep up into your fucked out muscles. The warmth of Joel still on top of you, the pressure of his body on yours, and his cum slowly dripping out of you, lulls you nearly to sleep.
You’ll tell him tomorrow, you think to yourself, moments before giving in and letting your heavy eyelids fall closed.
But you have a feeling he’ll figure it out for himself.