Your name is Dave Strider and you are currently trying to seduce your boyfriend of 2 years. Trying.
His pants are half zipped down and you haven't made much progress since you started, your mouths too hungry for the others' taste, and you're still kissing up quite the hell of a storm. He's moaning and moaning and you don't know if they're genuine but you don't even care because of how delicious they are to your hungry ears. Your warm lips whisper sweet nothings heatedly against his neck and kiss the spot you had previously bitten, sucking for a while then letting him go and finally 'getting the fuck on with it already.' He's looking up at you, all needy like, eyes wide and glistening, his glasses crooked and majorly fogged up. You slide them off his face, quickly kissing his nose. You remove your own shades. He coos softly and strokes your face knowingly, and you smile a little, just a little. For him. He smiles back and just as you're about to finish unzipping his tight jeans he makes a quick noise, an aggravated sound in the back of his throat. You look back into his baby blues, and you see a fire. A goddamn fire. They're burning into your own eyes and you feel your stomach flop and soon your body is flopping and he's on top of you in an instant, still stroking your face, letting his fingers wander over your bare chest, brushing across your nipples briefly and making you gasp. He looks at you questioningly and gives one of them a quick lick, he now knows you are particularly sensitive there, and you fucking moan. You actually moan and your pants are still on and your face is heating up very quickly. He just chuckles lightly and moves to your stomach, tracing little hearts all over and you swear to god. He continues for too long, your dick is straining against your pants and you really want to get them off right about now. But he refuses to move. Then you realize he's waiting for you to say something to him. You have no fucking idea what, but you moan again and he seems satisfied. He begins palming you through your pants and you moan again, bucking up a bit, your fingers now tracing his sides and the bit of squishy fat beautifully drizzled along his stomach, poking and prodding and he outright laughs. You would take the opportunity to declare a full out tickle war but decide you can do that when the immediate matters at hand are properly dealt with.
Cause you are fucking gentlemen.
He continues to shimmy down your long body, still straddling you, and you now have a complete front view of his crotch and half zippered skinny's. You palm him while he starts unzipping your pants, to test him, and he shooshes your hand away after whimpering and almost falling onto your face. You do it again and he looks at you.
"Dave. Don't. I want to try this."
You huff.
"You've never been for topping, I don't see what changed your mind this time."
You look into his eyes and he looks confused.
"No, I'm not complaining." You correct yourself quickly. "This is great. Just don't know how long I can last without my hands all over you."
He's close to breaking in. This is great. Then he simply stands up, gets off of you and walks out the bedroom door. You gape slightly at his sudden absence, until he's back within a few seconds, with a pair of silver handcuffs in hand. "….What?" You try to hide your reddening face.
How.
Did he find those.
"John what the fuck where did you-?"
He shooshes you again, placing a single, slender finger over your lips, and resumes his position from before. He clicks the handcuffs over your wrists and you pull at them basically beside yourself with the fact that this was actually happening and John was the reason behind in. He's then feeling you up like never before, sucking at your nipples almost aggressively, scratching love into your back, marking you up and biting everywhere. You almost come from the sudden intensity of it all, the feeling that you can only describe as raw. The burning marks on you tingle and your heart is racing and your boner is giving you a lot of pain at this point. He finally takes the liberty to take of your fucking pants and you sigh in relief. He spits in his hand and drips it over your dick, still covered by your boxers, watching a dark spot appear on them. Your dick twitches with the warm feeling, and he begins to palm you again, leaning down to breathe his hot perfect air all over your junk. You pull at the cuffs again and again, moaning in the heat of it all, listening to the clank, clank, clank, of the metal against the headboard. You're surprised to hear his voice again. "Eager now, are we?" You grunt in response, a rasp staining the edge of your own sounds of pleasure. You had never seen this side of him before, completely unaware of its existence this entire time. You mentally take a note to let Egburt try things every once in a while. Because hey, maybe it won't be so bad. He finally slides your underwear off, the soft fabric of it trailing across your oversensitive skin, making you shiver. He breathes again and you twitch again and he doesn't do anything for a bit. You buck up to try and meet him halfway but he's taking none of your bullshit. "John, what are you doing?" He doesn't respond and you continue rambling on, words jumbling together and becoming more and more desperate, when he finally gives you a look and stands up again. "Oh fucking Christ." You mutter the words of discontent under your breath and he's back again and he has a couple blindfolds and oh my god your boyfriend has a kink. You smile at him, showing your teeth ironically, like he does all the fucking time (unironically- take note), and he shuts you up by stuffing one in your mouth and tying something around your head to keep it in place. The other one goes over your eyes, blacking everything out except for a dim glow that reminds you that yes, this is actually happening. Of course you like this kind of stuff, but John? You never thought so. He apparently found your stash of guilty pleasures. You thank the Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff up in irony heaven that he did. You're jostled a little and you feel a warm wet mouth on your dick, licking up and down, sucking here and there, and you admit that yes John has absolutely no fucking clue what he's doing, but it feels amazing. You revel in the fact that you're moaning against your gag in a matter of seconds, once again struggling against your bonds, and he stops for a moment. You assume his eyes are scanning your vulnerability, and you moan again, shifting again and tightening the muscles in your chest a bit for show. You hear John actually gasp and shift and you mentally high five yourself. He stops and goes back to what he was doing before. You're close to coming and you make a nice big show out of it, because John seems to just love your shows, and then it's there. The orgasm throws your hips up and maybe John didn't get the message because he's not moving then you realize that he's still sucking you off and swallowing your load. This makes your aftershocks particularly wonderful, and he sucks you dry, pumping you till you're finished and completely exhausted, then removes your binding. Last he takes off your blindfold and you look into his eyes again, sparkling and curious like a child's. His breath shakes in and out of his lungs and he falls gently on top of you, like a fucking flower petal, all graceful and shit. You love him so much you just can't deal with his shenanigans for much longer. He closes his eyes and you see that he's actually removed his own pants already and you see come on the bottom of the bed sheets and you realize that he came to the sight of you. You smile again, to yourself this time, and find a very oddly comforting condolence in the fact that he loves you so much and you love him even more. You hold him closer and breathe into his ear, words unneeded as usual, listening closely to his breaths and watching the gentle slope of his chest as it rises and falls and you think that you haven't been happier with anyone at any given moment in your entire life than you are with this boy.