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The soft smacking of hips meeting plush fat echoed through the room, mingling with breathy grunts and quiet, broken whimpers.
“J-Johnny… your… m-manager will kill… me!” you gasped, bent over the vanity, gripping the edge as Johnny drove into you from behind.
Johnny let out a low grunt, the corner of his mouth curled into a wicked grin as he locked eyes with you through the mirror.
“Nah, we’ll be fine, sweet cheeks,” he laughed breathlessly. “Actors need to loosen up before we go on air. Y’know… get into character.” He winked, like he wasn’t currently ruining your makeup on the very table you worked at.
“You call t-this… getting into character?” you panted, eyes dazed and unfocused in the mirror.
He groaned as he thrust forward again, pushing deeper, feeling your walls clench tight around him.
“Hell yeah,” he growled, bringing his hand down on your ass with a sharp smack, watching the flesh bounce. His fingers immediately dug in, grabbing a handful, guiding your hips back into his with more force.
You whimpered as another thrust dragged right across that sensitive spot, your body jolting in his grip, eyes rolling back as a helpless sound slipped from your throat.
“Fuck, look at you, sweetheart,” he snickered, watching your reflection. “Already so cockdumb and I haven’t really done much.”
You shook your head weakly, a broken whine leaving you.
“Yeah, sweetheart,” he continued, nodding with mock sympathy. “I get it. It’s hard to act normal when your pussy is drooling all over my cock, but you gotta take it.” His tone turned cruel, deliberate.
“Otherwise,” he added lazily, thrusting again, “I won’t be able to get into character. Can’t go out there unprepared, y’know?”
Your back arched without permission, hips pushing back into him as another strained whine tore out of you. You were right on the edge now, thoughts scattering.
“Y-you’re ruining your… makeup…” you managed through clenched teeth, voice shaking, seconds from completely unraveling.
“You’ll fix it,” he breathed, moaning softly as he leaned forward. His hand slid into your hair, gripping tight and pulling you back, forcing your spine to arch deeper and your body flush against his. “You always do.”
He paused just long enough to drag himself out of you before flipping you onto your back in one swift motion. Your breath hitched—then broke into a gasp as he slid right back in, bottoming out instantly. Your hand flew to his arm, nails digging into his skin while he picked up that same relentless pace, this time driving straight into that sensitive spot over and over again.
“Look how slutty you look,” he panted, voice wrecked and low. “My personal makeup artist taking my cock so well.”
“J-Johnny!” you whined, turning your head away, overwhelmed.
“Don’t act shy,” he laughed breathlessly. “I can feel you like it. You tightened up on me so hard when I said that. Fuck—gonna cum in this pussy too, fill you up nicely.”
You knew he couldn’t—not with the condom you made him wear—but the words alone made your walls clench around him so tightly he groaned.
“Shit, babe, your pussy is so honest with me,” he moaned. “Maybe I should take it off and actually cum inside. Get you all dirty with my cum, eh?”
Your body reacted instantly, squeezing around him again as you teetered right at the edge, nails sinking deeper into his arm as your orgasm climbed too fast to fight.
“That’s it, sweetie… squeeze my cock, cum all over me,” Johnny groaned, hooking your thighs tight around his waist. His thrusts were getting sloppy, desperate, chasing the high you were dragging out of him.
He leaned forward and caught your mouth in a messy kiss right as you broke apart around him, your cry swallowed by his lips. The way your core clenched down sent him spiraling, groaning into your mouth as his own release hit.
You clutched at his shoulders while he kept thrusting through both your orgasms, your breaths tangling, lips and teeth clashing in gasped, heated kisses.
A few minutes later he finally stilled, forehead pressed to your collarbone, both of you drenched in sweat and panting.
Your makeup was ruined—mascara streaked, eyeliner smudged, foundation patchy, lipstick wrecked across your mouth.
Johnny looked just as destroyed, his foundation lifted from sweat and your red lipstick smeared across his mouth like he’d been devoured.
“Shit… I needed that. Thanks, babes,” Johnny snickered, pulling out with a low groan.
“I fucking hate you…” you muttered darkly as you pushed up onto shaky legs, turning to the mirror and cringing.
Fantastic. Now you’d have to redo your entire face.
You yanked your pants up and began gathering the necessary products, muttering curses in his direction.
Johnny popped up behind you, hands sliding onto your hips as he grinned at you in the mirror with that stupid, boyish smile.
“We should totally do that again after I’m finished shooting,” he said, far too pleased with himself.
“Sit your ass down,” you snapped, grabbing a brush and pointing it at the chair.
“Only if you show me a titty,” he replied, dead serious.
You stared at him.
This absolute idiot, you truly can’t stand his ass.
But he fucks you so well, so you’ll forgive him.