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Imagine you are with members of your family/friends and you agreed to help them couch hunting for their new place.
The whole ordeal is pretty boring, since you don’t really have any interest in couches, and are just here to give your somewhat honest opinion on the stuff you see.
It’s been two and a half hours since the shopping started, and you’re starting to get fed up with it, mostly because they have no fucking idea about what they want and nothing is good enough, and you realize they’re not even listening to you when you offer insight.
So now, whenever you enter a store, you go find the most isolated couch and plop down on it, playing on your phone waiting for them to call you when they want to leave.
The last shop to cross off of their humongous list (like seriously, who knew there were that much people selling couches?) is in the middle of a shopping area, and looks pretty okay for a couch store. It’s quite big, with huge windows making up 3 of the 4 walls.
You pray for strength before going in, and search for a remote couch right away. The store is organized in an Ikea way, with a path to follow that takes you around the whole thing. You finally find what you’re looking for, a small room with a couch and an armchair and a coffee machine in it, totally empty of any curious customer, and you decide that it’s a suitable waiting spot before all but throwing yourself in the armchair and taking out your phone.
You’ve been engrossed in your game for a good twenty minutes when you hear someone clearing his throat right next to you. You jump, not having heard anyone come in, and let out a little (totally dignified ok we are very gracious people thank you) scream.
The person laughs, and you can’t help but to notice that the way their eyes crinkle and how they thow their head back when they laugh is really, really adorable and ridiculously hot.
“Wow, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” says the guy, still laughing a little. “I was just wondering what you were doing in the employees’ break room?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“The… what?” you cleverly answer, looking confused.
“Uh, the break room?” he answers, pointing at the sign on the door that indeed read “Break room”.
Feeling a bit stupid, you explain to him why you’re there, and apologize. You get up from the armchair, and start to head for the door. But the guy is leaning his right shoulder against the door frame, arms crossed and right ankle crossed over the left one, and doesn’t look like he’s gonna move out of the way any time soon.
“Such blatant disregard for couches, I’m hurt” he says with pretend hurt. “I’m Brendon by the way, I own the place” he adds with a smile, extending a hand that you shake.
You introduce yourself too, trying (and failing) not to blush under his gaze. Now that you’re taking the time to look, you notice that his laugh is not the only thing that’s ridiculously hot. The rolled-up sleeves of his white shirt give you a glimpse of a tattooed arm, and his hands are sporting numerous golden rings, although no wedding band. Your eyes trail further down, not so subtly checking him out.
“Liking what you see?” comes the unexpected question, making your eyes snap right up, to see an amused Brendon, knowing full well the effect he has on you.
Trying not to look as embarrassed as you feel, you don’t really think before answering, and are startled when you hear yourself answering positively, and you’re pretty sure the words “fucking hot” were involved in your sentence. Great.
You see his smile drop, and feel your stomach do the same. However, his following words are not really what you assumed they’d be.
“Good. Because I do too.” comes the reply, stunning you. Brendon’s eyes are dark with something you can’t describe as other than hunger. You find yourself unable to move as you see him closing the door, and hear the tumblers of the lock fall into place.
He turns around, and leans against the door, while you stand in front of him, not knowing how to react. You can feel his eyes as they trail down your body, like a gentle and sensual stroke. Your mind goes blank with desire as you see him lick and bite his lower lip. Oh god his lips. The things you wish they would do to you. So luscious, they’re the embodiement of sin, really.
Brendon finally pushes himself away from the locked door, and prowls towards you, a smirk forming on his face when he sees you instinctively backing away. You keep stepping back, half instinct, half teasing, when you hit the wall. You can feel your heart racing at the sight of him coming closer, and your breath catches when he puts a hand on your hip. His other hand comes up framing your face, his thumb resting on your lower lip. The heat in his gaze his dazzling as he pulls on your lip before bowing his head next to yours.
“May I…?” he whispers, and you can feel his breath on your neck. It makes your lower belly tingle whith arousal, and you can’t help the moaned “yes please” that escapes you. You feel his self-satisfied smirk against your neck, the kisses and bites Brendon lays down your neck to your collarbone, where he starts sucking making your knees go weak. And he hasn’t even kissed you yet. Outrageous. You grab him by the lapels of his shirt to get his attention, and tilt his chin.
But Brendon only slides his hands up your t-shirt, cockily looking you in the eyes. He let his hands roam on your belly, up to your chest, revelling in the ways your body reacts to him.
“Someone is in a hurry, I see?” he says, voice low and seductive as he pinches one of your nipples, making you gasp. “Unfortunately for you, I’m the one in charge here.” he finishes, thumb stroking your nipple soothingly. You nod.
Satisfied with your answer, and knowing he has your consent, Brendon slowly inches forward, and delicately presses his lips to yours. His mouth is soft and warm, the first kiss gentle. You can feel your legs giving out, and are really glad you’re leaning against the wall. Brendon feels it too, and his hands tightens on you hip in order to hold you up.
You slide a hand around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair when he deepens the kiss, tongue parting your lips. You reflexively pull his hair, and feel his cock get harder where he is flushed against you.
“Ok, couch.” he mumbles, manhandling you to the couch where he lays you down after taking your shirt off, climbing on top of you. “You are so fucking gorgeous” he whispers, as he drops kisses down your chest and abdomen. He sits up, straddling your thighs, and unbuttons his shirt, throwing it on the floor, and then proceeds to unbutton your jeans and slides them off of you along with your underwear.
He crawls back up to you, and captures your mouth in a rough kiss, his erection straining against his trousers, you can feel it pressing against your thigh. It’s maddening. His mouth and hands are everywhere, and it’s too much, but not enough at the same time.
“Please, Brendon. Please.” you whimper, your hands clenching on his back as he bites along your collarbone. He huffs, and promptly gets off of you. You’re about to complain, when you hear him humming a song. When your eyes find him, you see him swaying his hips to the tune, grinning wickedly as he strips, giving one of the hottest show you’ve seen. His laugh dies down at the look on your face when his erection is released from his boxers. He instead focuses at the hand you slowly glide down your body, and start touching yourself in an attempt at speeding up his return.
It doesn’t fail. You can feel the mood shift again from light hearted to thick with desire and arousal. Brendon rolls down a condom on himself, and you can feel your mouth water at the thought of the weight of his dick on your tongue.
You don’t have the time to dwell on this though, because Brendon his back, moving you so you can straddle him while he’s sitting on the couch. He kisses you, a fist in your hair. As he bites your lower lip, you feel a finger slowly sliding inside you and you can’t help but to moan in his mouth, asking for more as your move your hips back and forth.
He fingers you for a while, and you can see that he enjoys every second of it, his hard cock leaking against his belly. He his four fingers inside of you when he brushed that spot that makes you see stars, and drop your head on his shoulder, a string of curses escaping your mouth.
“Fuck you’re amazing, you want more uh?” he asks, panting. “You want me inside of you? I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk properly tomorrow” he continues, as he pulls his fingers off of you and guides you down his shaft until you’re seated on him.
You see Brendon close his eyes, hands firm on your hips to keep you from moving, mouth slightly open and cheeks flushed; Gods what a sight. You could almost come just from how sinful he looks. You close the distance between you both and kiss him, tentatively moving your hips in small circles, getting insanely turned on by the low noises that escape Brendon’s mouth.
Suddenly, he turns you over, laying you down on the couch and starts snapping his hips in fast and precise movements. The sound of his panting and your gasps fills the room, with the rythmic sound of flesh hitting flesh.
You can feel your orgasm build up, and beg Brendon to keep going on, faster, deeper. He angles himself in a way that makes him hit all the good spots and it take three more thrusts for you to come. You feel all your muscles tense, and you rake your fingernails down his back as you come.
It doesn’t take anything else for Brendon to come, with one final thrust, biting your shoulder to stifle his cry.
He collapses on you, sweaty chest to sweaty chest, and just strokes your hair, his forehead leaning against your cheek and your arms around him. You’re both basking in the after-glow of incredible orgasms when you hear your name being called, your family/friends are looking for you.
You bolt out of the couch dislodging a protesting Brendon, frantically picking up your clothes and puting them on while he looks at you with a mix of amusement and annoyance.
You head for the door but stop, looking at him.
“That was…” you begin, looking for words.
“Pretty amazing.” he finishes, smiling. “You know,” he continues, sitting up to retrieve something from his jeans, “there are a lot more couches in this store.” he says, winking and handing you a visit card with a name: Brendon Urie, and a phone number.
You look at him, baffled but also turned on again. He probably sees it in your eyes because he kisses you one last time, before being interrupted by shouts of your name. You turn around and unlock the door, and feel a gentle slap on your ass as you exit the break room, followed by his voice.
“See you soon, love.”
While you head out of the store with your family/friends, you have a look around and giddily think that there are indeed, a lot of couches to defile.