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There was something so hot about seeing Conrad Fisher grade a paper. Maybe it was the way he held the pen, or how his brow furrowed — which was often, because 5th grade kids were hilarious —, even his posture was insane, legs open, hunched over the kitchen counter. They were still working on transforming the second room to an office, and his desk was yet to be shipped. So, Belly had to watch him work on the kitchen for days. And it was bad for her panties. Mostly because Conrad refused to fuck her while he was working, so she had become restless. When he got in the zone, he was insufferable.
Also, did he need his glasses or simply wanted her to combust?
"Baby, it's almost 10 and you're literally missing the fire drill episode! Dwight is about to light the cigarette."
Conrad huffs a laugh but barely lifts his eyes, still writing something down. He has a set of stickers —gold stars, and three pens lined up perfectly, because he's insane like that.
"You've watched it so many times, I kind of know the scene by heart, love," She rolls her eyes, and groans. "Besides, how crazy do you have to be to fake a fire drill? There's so many risks involved, not to talk about the damages… the ceiling, the copier… and they never address it… The producers knowing and not doing anything about it…"
Oh, he can go on and on about safety. And he does hate the episode with a passion, being the control freak he is.
"You're taking the fun out of it, Mr. Fisher."
"You're distracting me, Ms. Conklin," he muttered, sticking a gold star on the paper. "I need to finish, so I don't have to work during the weekend."
They were driving to Cousins on the weekend, to disconnect after an insanely busy couple of weeks. Belly had been so excited, she missed the beach, the house, and they rarely had time with Conrad's teaching, and Belly's writing. Granted, she could write her novel anywhere, but with deadlines, and editing, all she wanted was to dip in the pool, and fuck her boyfriend in his room, in her room, in the shower, inside the ocean, on the hot tub… basically, she needed to be filled with Conrad's come until they drove back on Sunday.
They hadn't fucked in almost 5 days, and Belly was pent up. She needed her boyfriend, because another session with her vibrator won't do. So, she was taking matters into her own hands. She was wearing her usual set of pajamas, in the color he adored: dark blue. It was a button down, and the amount of times he had fucked her with the top barely off and the pants ridden down her hips… too many to count. Belly rarely needed sexy lingerie (let's face it, it always winded up ruined and she couldn't afford the luxury of replacing every lace thong.) all of her clothes drove Conrad crazy. So… the hell to the fire drill episode, she was going to get railed.
Belly stood up from the couch, already toying with the buttons of her top.
"Don't even think about it," he said, still focused on the corrections.
"I'm not doing anything, Connie…"
"Don't Connie me, Isabel… I seriously cannot focus on making you come right now."
"Come on, Conrad!" She all but whimpered. He was being insufferable, sticking another star with his left hand. How dare he? "Don't you want to take a break? We can just… snuggle."
"I know what snuggle means when you are horny, baby… just like with your bullshit of "just the tip" when I'm running late for work. I will wind up just fucking you and forgetting anything but making you come."
"I've been such a good girl, though," Belly had almost unbuttoned the whole top, leaving an amazing view of the valley of her beasts.
Conrad dared to look, and he sighed, closing his eyes.
"Belly…" It was his mildly annoyed voice. The one he used when he was kinda turned on, and couldn't do anything about it. Or well, when she was being a brat. "I just have like five papers to go, I will be quick."
"But I want you now."
"You are being bratty on purpose," he sing-sang, putting a physical barrier with the sheets he was still reading. But Belly was persistent. So, she got closer. Conrad sighed. "Isabel…"
"What? I just want a gold star, babe."
He fully rolled his eyes, gave her another knowing look, and put down the pen and pushed aside the fucking papers.
"Fine. You want a gold star?" He asked, his smirk a tad bit mean. If he wanted her to go away, he was doing all the wrong things, she just wanted to kiss the smirk off his mouth. He took the freaking sticker… and pasted it on her forehead. The touch of the tip of his finger was weirdly hot. "Here you go, baby, for being such a good girl."
The way he emphasized the words made her moan out loud. Over a fucking gold star.
I'm Was that the start of her praising kink journey? Maybe.
Conrad had dropped the smirk, his mouth was slack, and his breathing was uneven.
"Is it doing it for you too?" She asked, getting on her tip-toes, with the counter still between their bodies.
"Everything you do does it for me, Belly," It is such a solemn statement. So serious… dude, her boyfriend is so freaking sexy. "Come here."
Oh, finally… Finally. Belly rounds the counter, and he received her with his legs open, and places his hands over her hips, brushing her skin softly. She can feel the strap of his wrist watch, and she leans in, waiting for the kiss. His mouth is so close, ghosting over hers, and they're just breathing each other in. But he doesn't, instead, he turns her, so his chest is pressed on her back, and he grabs one of his pens, the red one this time.
"You're going to help me grade," He whispered in her ear, lightly biting the earlobe. "Then, I am going to fuck you."
Belly let slip a whiny sound, while Conrad simply corrected the paper, like she wasn't wet and ready, wearing a fucking gold star on her forehead. Her nipples were so hard, they were peaking through the cotton, and the only thing he did about it was trace the skin of her thighs, softly. Like she was an afterthought. He was always so in control of himself, and Belly hated him for it. Besides, she could feel him hard against her ass… and she had never been an obedient student. So, she grinds her ass against his erection. To his credit, he barely reacts; Conrad just places a hand on her waist, and squeezes tenderly.
"This is not fair," she mutters, biting her lip, while adjusting herself over his lap. She wants him so desperately, it's embarrassing.
"Unfair? I would call wearing my favorite pajamas, baby. And…" He slides his hand up her thigh, sneaking a long finger on her bare cunt. "No panties."
Belly squirms, letting her head fall on his shoulder. He is wearing a simple gray t-shirt, with his usual sweatpants. He keeps just teasing her, barely even paying attention, but she feels his heartbeat, the way his body vibrates with the anticipation. She understands that Conrad misses her too, in that particular way, where her presence isn't enough, when he needs to carve a space inside of Belly's skin. They are so tethered, so connected, that her ache becomes his. And vice-versa. It was always like this, when they couldn't fuck for some time.
Long distance had been… something; it had taken them both by surprise. It wasn't like the first time, when Conrad was in Brown and Belly was in Philly; it wasn't this physical need for each other, more so the dull notion that the other one was completely and entirely out of reach. But Paris had changed that forever, and Brussels… well, it had created a monster of neediness. Conrad was much better at controlling it, but he'd had 4 years of practice, while Belly… well, she wasn't used to actually having him, and not being able to just jump into his arms at the end of a horrible day at work, or a particularly difficult class.
So, when they would meet up, it was like an explosion. Either in Palo Alto, where he fucked her in all of the rooms of his very organized apartment, or in Paris… where he would bent her over the radiator and eat her out in that filthy, wet way he'd learned from what Belly defined as his slut years, and then buried himself to the halt, until she couldn't take it anymore and had become a blabbering mess underneath him, who could only think about coming, and specifically, his come running down her thighs. The image of a ravenous Conrad having her way with her was not helping her cause.
And Conrad dared to use another fucking gold star. So, she had to do the only sensible thing, and turn in his arms, going for his lips, and she manages to steal a peck, but he doesn't allow her to deepen it. It makes her groan, and he chuckles, his chest vibrating against hers. But he's looking at her, and both of his hands are on her hips. A win is a win, he has dropped anything to do with teaching, and it's becoming the feral version of himself that she adored.
"Let's see, Ms. Conklin… you're not being a very good girl."
"But I am, Mr. Fisher. I'm very wet for you. Is that bad? You deserve a treat," Conrad grunts. Biting down on her neck. As you might have figured, Belly is also hot about his canines, the way they press against her sensitive skin.
"Let's play a game, baby," So it was going to be one of those nights. Where he would edge her for hours, before he fucked her mercilessly. Conrad was exceptionally good at it. Belly? Not so much. She whined, clasping her thighs together, obviously not happy. He decided to kiss her senseless, with his tongue dancing with hers, so wet, she almost got lost in his taste — coffee and mint — in the way he loved to bruise her lips. When he pulled back, Belly almost fell to her knees. "I think the gold stars do it for you, love. I can feel how wet you are. Ready for my cock, hm?" She grunts, wanting to wrap herself around him, but he keeps her pinned in her place. "I will stick a star in every part of your body that drives me absolutely mad. How does that sound?"
It sounds like torture, she wants to yell, but doesn't. Instead, locks her eyes with his and let's her top fall to the floor, showing her full tits, with swollen nipples, demanding his attention. It always makes him a little dumb, when she's naked and willing, but his smirk is almost feline. Conrad moves the papers to one of the drawers, ever careful. He just leaves the stickers, and with all the calm in the world, takes two. Then, hoists her up the counter, her thighs wide open, so he can fit himself between them.
"Thank you for getting your tits ready, because I want to start with your pretty nipples," He emphasizes his words by biting both of her buds lightly, and placing the two stars softly.
"Conrad…" she moans, threading her fingers through his hair, pulling just a little bit. He bites the side of her boob. "So your favorite body part are my boobs? Just that, baby? What about…" he interrupts her, with a dirty kiss.
"I'm just getting started."
Belly believes him. If there's something she's sure about, is that Conrad worships her body, he is constantly seeking excuses to touch her. Whenever they are out, his hand never leave her waist, he kisses her neck absentmindedly, and when they kiss… well, is only natural that he skims her ass, even if they are in public. Conrad only holds back his adoration when they're near Lauren or Adam. For a while there, he also refused to kiss her in front of Jeremiah — that didn't last long, and in a rare twist of fate, they winded up making out on the top of his Jeep, so sloppy and intense that they didn't register his presence. Later, much later, after her boyfriend had fucked her face down on the mattress, he confessed that it felt like poetic justice. And the only thing she could do was laugh against the dip of his chest.
So, it doesn't surprise her when he trails the stars down her torso, kissing intensely each patch of her skin. Her arousal is primal, and she tries to rub herself against him, but there's no use. Conrad pins her to the counter, and doesn't even roll his hips, he just keeps the trail until he is at the hem of her shorts.
"Oh, baby, you are so needy…" She's going to kick him if he doesn't drop the act. Her grunt makes him laugh, and his giant frame is kneeling against right in front of her damp pussy. The short shows the evidence of her wetness, but he starts to take them of slowly, sliding them down her legs, until they are discarded on the floor. "Fuck, you're dripping."
"I need your cock, baby, and i need it now."
He smiles against her folds, and takes a bunch of the gold stars.
"But we've reached the best part, love. You know how I feel about your pretty pussy," Conrad shows a bit of mercy, when he licks her slit, his tongue dancing on her entrance but he doesn't even brush her aching clit. "I would cover you in all the fucking stars, but your cunt… I can't blame anyone for trying to keep it to themselves…"
Belly lets out a breathless laugh.
"So now can we have drinks with Benito without it turning into a pissing contest?"
"Oh, is not even a contest anymore, sweetheart," Conrad is rarely smug… except when he stakes his claim. And he loves to let everyone know that Belly is his. As if anyone would come to steal her away. "Now, let's try to stick the stars…" And he does. With his tongue, he tries to place it on her mound. But she's so wet and slick, it slips right out, so his lips brush her ever so slightly. It makes her squirm. "Fuck… you're so sloppy."
Belly cries out, arching her back. And Conrad tries again, this time it sort of sticks but then it falls again; Conrad tries to whip it up with his tongue, the jerk manages to suck her clit and give her zero relief. Belly encloses his head with her thighs, as if that would keep him in place, make him eat her out, or insert two fingers in that rough way she loves.
"I get it, you love my cunt… now can you fuck me?"
"I won't fuck you yet… but I will eat you out, slowly. My gold fucking star."
It's a miracle she doesn't come from just the timber of his voice, the way it ricochets on her skin, making her a shaking, aching mess. Then, his mouth is on her, with devastating sweeps of his tongue on her opening. His nose graces her clit, fitting so nicely in between her, she almost comes at the sight. But Belly it's too busy gripping his hair, arching her back, trying to grind herself against his mouth, but he pins her down to the counter, both of his arms tangled on her thighs. He always eats her out as if the world is about to end.
Conrad is careful and meticulous about almost everything, except for when his mouth tastes her slick. He becomes a possessed version of himself, a creature meant for only pleasure. When he lifts his green eyes, darkened and filled with her, Belly writhes as his mouth works on her clit, the fucking sticker forgotten, and she feels her orgasm build, heat pooling on her lower abdomen.
"Conrad… fuck… Connie," Belly chants, as her first orgasm hits her. It's fast and intense.
"You're such a good girl, baby," he coos, as he rides the crest of her release, with his mouth agape, lazily kissing her folds. "I love the way you taste, how you come so hard for me."
Belly is panting, the stars make friction with her nipples, and even though she came, she needs more. Oh, so much more.
"Can you fuck me now?" She still sounds whiny and needy. And her boyfriend just rests his temple on her inner thigh. "Please, Connie."
Conrad chuckles again, and gosh, does she wish he would bite her.
"I love it when you call me Connie," Belly smiles down at him, threading her fingers through his hair. "But I can't fuck you just yet. I still have so much to cover…"
"Oh, no, mister! I know your favorite parts are covered now!"
"Baby… I haven't even gotten started," He's so earnest when he says it, even when his mouth is still shiny and his fingers are tracing the seams of her pussy, as if it were her back. "Plus, I couldn't add any stickers on your beautiful ass. That's a crime. I have a responsibility as a teacher."
Suddenly, Belly is fed up. So she incorporates herself, and kisses Conrad shamelessly. They are in a weird position, she's kinda of bent over herself, and he starts to pull her hair. The taste of her mixed with his own, the velvety texture of the inside of his mouth… She gets lost in it.
"Why don't you lend me the stars and I can show you my favorite part?" She whispers against his lips, and Conrad… gosh, he looks so wrecked. But he gathers his bearings quite quickly. He grips her thighs and pulls her forward, so she has her legs around his waist. The brush of his sweatpants against her sensitive core makes Belly whimper. He is hard and pulsing, ready for her hands, her mouth… hell, even her ass. "Please, Con…"
The kiss is bruising and he allows her to roam her hands over his torso, until they reach the hem of his sweats. She's hot all over, but her hands still feel cold against his hardness. She wraps it around his cock and the grunt reaches her very soul. They are panting into each other's mouths, but Belly starts to slide down his body, until she is on her knees, with that doe eyed looked she wore like a charm.
There were many things that Conrad Fisher loves about Belly Conklin. But having her at his mercy? Ready to take his cock in her mouth? All pretty, rubbing her thighs to feel some relief, with the fucking star covering her pretty nipples. It was a vision of his dirtiest dreams.
"Get me a sheet of the stars," she demands, working her hands up and down his length. Can a person be cock drunk without actually having said cock inside of them? Well, Conrad knew his girlfriend might be high from his dick, because of how sloppy her hands were, the drool dripping from her lips. It happened from time to time, and he loved it.
Again… a vision. He was already leaking, his hands reaching for the stickers. She can't help herself, she swirls her tongue around the tip, the flavor of him overpowering her already overloaded senses. He swears under his breath, almost dropping the damn thing. But Belly is quick to take it from his hand, collecting the star and starts to try and work it on the tip. The mix of her saliva, with the slickness of his own arousal, makes it impossible to stick… But she keeps trying with her fingers, clumsily. The pleasure builds, and he is about to make a fool of himself and come all over Belly, and she hasn't even properly blown him.
"Baby…" he begs, and Belly just lifts her eyes, a devilish smirk tugging her lips.
"Oh, I love your dick so much, Con… so much. I would live with it inside me all day if I could," Conrad shudders, his hips involuntarily thrusting forward. She tries again with the star, and it stays a little bit, but then it slides sideways. "We need to do something about your pre-come, my love."
Oh, and she does. Belly tries to swap it away, and he is so fucking sensitive. He grunts, placing his left hand over Belly's head, his fingers tangling in the softness of her hair. She keeps trying and trying, using almost the whole sheet to cover her dick all over, but they keep sliding down. He is so fucking over the edge… and Belly keeps leaving soft kisses, kissing the tip, never sliding the velvet of her mouth on his length. Conrad thinks he might actually be dying, her balls are tight… and if she keeps this up…
"Fuck, Belly!" he mutters under his breath, pulling the strands of her hair. She loves the power. The particular way she can bring him, the always-in-control Conrad Fisher to his knees.
"I'm just kissing the tip, baby… just the tip," and she does, kiss the tip once again, swirling her tongue again. There is no hope for poor Connie. He comes pathetically, hard. Very hard, his come coating Belly's chest, a drop falling close to her lips. "Connie baby, that was way too easy…"
Conrad is panting, whining still, feeling the pleasure in his lower back. Belly licks him up, his softening dick still twitching. His green eyes are searing, almost too dark. And she knows she's going to be in for such a long fuck, as soon as he recovers. But she can't help but still wants to toy with him.
"You weren't supposed to come as fast, Conrad… I wanted to be fucked."
Conrad huffs a laugh as he grips her hair again, tilting her head upwards.
"Give me five minutes."
"That's ambitious," she whimpers, clenching around nothing. Feeling so empty. "But you weren't a good boy… so you don't deserve any more stars."
Her voice is husky, coated with arousal, as she stands and goes over to her purse, looking for something.
"What do I deserve, according to you?"
Belly smirks as she takes out her red lipstick.
"I am going to grade your performance, baby," she coos, walking straight to him again. "Take your shirt off,"
Conrad obeys, dumbly. His Cousins Row t-shirt flies to the floor, next to her discarded clothes. His chest is coated in a soft film of sweat, and all she wants to is lick him all over. She takes of the lipstick cap, the deep red catching his attention.
"Stay still," she commands. And he absolutely does. When she's closer, she can feel his dick, still outside of his underwear, hardening against her hip bone. And starts to draw a big F through the length of his torso, biting his nipples, while Conrad places his hands on her hips.
"So, I deserve an F because I came too quickly?"
"It is my assessment," she whispers against his lips. But Conrad is done playing nice, he's back at the reins.
"Good thing I am the teacher here," as he says that, he grabs Belly by her thighs and hoist her up his waist, to then splay her on the kitchen counter. Belly yelps, her hands gripping his shoulders. "Now, i am going to fuck the brattiness out of you."
Belly moans, as he kisses her, working his pants off, and tracing her entrance with his fingers. She's still dripping wet, getting wetter by the second. And there is no ceremony, when he slips inside her, all desperation and need. He should have an A+ for the sheer stamina of being hard so quick, but let's face it… his girlfriend is freaking Isabel Conklin, he could get hard all day, if their Paris fuckathon was any indication.
She is so ready, it's almost nidicolous how easy it is to fuck her like this. Their chest are flushed against one another, and the lipstick is getting smeared all over. The stars, though, they stay stuck over Belly's body, as the living proof that he loves every part of her. She keeps panting his name, and he drives his hips deeper and faster, his cock hitting the right spot to make Belly whimper, whiter and scream.
"Is this what you wanted? You're so fucking wet, Isabel… so fucking wet for me," he says against her mouth"So desperate for my cock." , right before kissing her, their spits mixing sloppily.
Belly cannot form full sentences, she just huffs, lost in the sensation of his movements. In the way his fingers grip her nipple, how he rolls around the sticker and bites down her neck. Her head is hitting the sink softly, she feels pliant and willing with every thrust. So his, it almost makes her cry. Belly is ready to come, but he must feel it, because Conrad slows down, and kisses her collarbone, grazing his canines on the softness of her skin.
"Conrad," she whines, her hips grinding to get more friction. "Please, please, please… let me come. I am so ready, baby…"
"Have you been a good girl, Belly?"
She nods enthusiastically, her mind all fogged from the pleasure. She's filled with lust, and nothing else. Lust and love for the nerd who uses his cock like a magic wand. He enters her again, brushing his lips with her. The pace now is punishing, almost painful, and Belly simply becomes a different version of herself, the one who just wants to mark Conrad. And she does, her nails dug on his skin, until there there's red lines covering his back — Later, much later, he will mock her for it, but right now, he just moans, and his thumb circles her clit, in that specific way he knows will get her to clench around him.
And it does. Belly comes again, so hard she almost blacks out, shouting his name. It's savage and so fucking raw, it sends him over the edge, and then Conrad is spilling inside her, swirling his tongue inside her mouth, as she pulls his hair softly.
Once the come down from the afterglow, Conrad chuckles against her navel. They are covered in lipstick and stickers. His come is smeared on her tits, and over her cunt. It's such a messy vision, but he wouldn't have it any other way.
"The shower is going to be something," she whispers, threading her fingers through his damp hair. And he keeps laughing.
"I can't even look at those godforsaken gold stars without thinking of you."
(Yes, Conrad changes his stickers from then on. Something nautical. But he still buys the sheets of stars in case Belly is being bratty again.)
They shower together; he washes her hair, and she cleans his chest thoroughly. Of course, they wind up fucking again, this time slow and loving. Belly feels so loved, it's almost too intense, wants to run and stay forever all at once.
And that's love, isn't it? Choosing to stay, instead of running. Cooking a bland chicken breast while Conrad finishes grading. Staying up to finish the episode, read together in bed and maybe, just maybe fuck with their glasses on, winding up so sore and tired they sleep through their alarm.
A kinda love that feels infinite.