DWB Meta

I finish. And am met with begrudging, glaring silence.

I believe you are recalling our earlier conversation where you did kinda/sorta say that this was a fantasy of yours. Mucho Regreto now though hmm?!

Having finished my condition listing, I now see fit to muse upon them.

'I will take your silence as consent.' I say. Fucking terrible.

'I really wish you would have agreed to the other things I suggested...you drive a hard bargain Miss Watson!'

What a compliment.

'But I am a man of my word. So...shall we begin?' I say, gloriously.

You scowl at me and, with a long, sceptical pause, nod.

Good god.

'Excellent. Well then, let's not dilly-dally....I guess we should dispense with your clothes first right? Would you like me to help you?' I ask eagerly. Like a puppy.

You shake your head and, oh so reluctantly, begin to rise to your feet.

But then, you don't do anything. You look positively unsure if you're in fact able to play along with this terrible role-play.

Obviously. Heinously. I don't want you to act on your misgivings so I keep talking.

'We did agree Miss Watson.' I remind you, and then, threaten;

'I don't want to put all those photos online...but...I am a man of my word...'

You look at me fiercely. Fuck. You. Would be the most accurate translation.

I forge ahead anyway. Feeling as if I am willingly walking off a cliff of my own making.

'Sorry, I don't mean to rush you but there's a bus I would really like to catch so I be home in time for a show that's dropping online tonight...' I reveal, so considerate.

You smile tersely and reach up and begin unbuttoning your shirt.

I can't help but imagine that you wish you'd left the lights off...but you did promise...

Finally the last button is undone, and you slowly let it slip from your shoulders, revealing that chic black bra underneath once more.

I say nothing, but just nod and look on leeringly.

'Keep going.' I say eagerly.

You reach back and unclasp your bra, and you hang your head slowly as you, reluctantly, shamefully, let that too fall off your arms and then drop to the floor. You bring your arms up and cover yourself.

'Oh! No need to be shy Miss Watson!' I say encouragingly. 'They're plenty big enough for me!'

I feel awful, but I this is role I have been given I am afraid. Blame the writer! Oh wait...

You scowl ferociously at me for that one, but grit your teeth and bite your lip and lower your hands, revealing your beautiful fucking tits to me!

I gawp, and give a slight spontaneous clap.

'They're just like I thought!' I said, ogling her openly, again, more than I have done the whole time. Leering might be a better word.

'Actually I was hoping you could answer a question I have. A suspicion actually...' I ask.

Again, a slight, resigned, nod.

'When you were in character, on set, in your uniform...

Spit it out.

'There's no such thing as underwear for wizards is there?' I ask, as only a Fanboy could conjure.

You flash an disapproving look at me. You know that I'm going straight for where it...irks...you the most.

But you also know what I want you to say, and so you shake your head. Reluctantly.

'I knew it!' I exclaim. Trade secrets!

'There's no mention of underwear anywhere. So I knew you just had to not be wearing any. The whole time!'

The 'whole time' appears to get to you...with its dirty, wrong, connotations. But this wasn't me saying these things. It was...a fucking Fanboy wasn't it?

'And bras too right?' I go on. 'I could tell.'

'It's like that in Star Wars too. Have you seen the supercut of Princess Leia?' I ask.

Your brow furrows.

'It's a bit more obvious with her but I could tell you weren't wearing anything either.' I say, proud of my unique insight.

'Ok, and now, as per our terms, the rest...' I say, ready to move on...move down...

You look at me differently now. Breasts are one thing. Your real private parts are quite another.

What is it? I see it now. Defiance.

There's a change in your posture, it's become more upright. More stoic. You're going to try to wrestle back some kind of pride or control out of this embarrassing situation.

You seem to decide that you are no one's submissive piece of meat. And so you widen your stance, and hitch your thumbs in your skirt, looking me dead in the eye as you do.

You push the clinging material over your hips, and slowly, reveal your underwear to me.

'A Gryphon!' I exclaim merrily. 'I have the exact same pair!'

What the fuck man!

You then pause, and, I'm not quite sure, but maybe realise that there's a better way to do this.

And so, you spin round, 180 degrees, your legs crossed elegantly, such that you are facing away from me.

You then proceed to lower your undies, ever so slowly, down over your impressive rear, revealing, inch by inch, your beautiful bum to the air, and my salivating gaze.

You bend at the hips and push them all the way to your ankles. And then step gracefully out of them, still bent all the way down.

And then...one after the other, you widen your stance and bend over to hang your head down such that I can see....everything....including you looking back at me from your upside down vantage point.

Dead-eyed.

This is my first time seeing you...all...in the flesh...in the light...and I am absolutely blown away by what I am looking at.

Emma fucking Watson in absolutely all her glory!

Gobsmacked.

I can see in your eyes that you see this too. And I see you smile a slight smile. Realising that you have some control in this after all....

I eventually remember that I am supposed to be saying something. Doing something. Playing my part.

'Magic!' I say, both in and out of character.

'Your photos don't do you justice.' I say, getting back in the sordid swing of things.

'And I just knew you'd shave for me too.' I said, licking my lips like some dirty old man.

I then, as if on autopilot, begin unbuckling my belt and pants. I push them down my legs aggressively, and step out of them....towards you...

You see me and my cock...pointing towards you.

Me, or my character...well...I'm not...small...but in truth few would be intimidated by my member either.

My Fanboy self, though, has other notions.

'Don't worry. I'll be gentle.' I say, as if you're scared of it. As if.

And then, to really reassure you, I add:

'It's my first time too.'

'I'm not a..' You begin to correct me but I cut you off. This is my, Fanboy Fuckboy's, fantasy.

'Yes you are.' I insist, breaking the terms of the agreement, but not caring, too far gone into my sad little fantasy world.

You roll your eyes but elect not to protest the infraction.

I step forward once more. Ever closer.

'Oh shit.' I say suddenly, as if remembering something, which I am.

I turn and unceremoniously flash my own arse at you now as I dig around in my pants. The mere idea that you are now looking at my bare bum is enough to both wilt, and fill, to the hilt, my cock.

The latter wins out.

'Found it!' I say triumphantly as I spin around and show you the condom in my hand.

You can't help but smile, likely at the fact that I just so happen to have a prop condom, which also reveals that I, the actual me, was also, dementedly optimistically, prepared for this....

I begin fumbling with it, as a Fanboy would, but also, being fucking nervous. Taking longer than anyone that knows what they're doing should.

I awkwardly rip open the condom and put it on my cock.

'I think that's right.' I mutter to myself, and then shrug, as if it doesn't matter that much, and step forward anyway, to within striking distance of you now.

Suddenly you rise up and turn around.

'Oh?' I ask dumbly. 'Doggy style no good?'

You grit your teeth and step back and sit demurely on the couch., but say nothing.

I just gawp at your tits, and your pussy, despite it being now hidden within your crossed legs. And stroke my condom clad cock...

You look at me, and it, curiously. I hope that somewhere, buried deep down, that the poorly played role-play is somehow just convincing enough that, despite your obvious revulsion, is fulfilling some kind of repressed need.

It must be an incredibly fine line.

I lick my lips.

'If you're not...ready...I could help...' I suggest, and lick my lips again. Gross.

You shake your head and cross your legs tighter. Playing hard to get are we?

'Your call.' I shrug, and continue playing with myself.

'I'm ready whenever you are.' I state, oblivious to all human cues.

'So do you want to do it here on the floor? Or would the couch be...more romantic...for your first time?' I repeat the lie.

You smile despite yourself now, seeing that I'm actually game (see stupid) enough to see this through to the end.

But are you?

You look at me as if to say 'You think you're pretty fucking funny don't you?'.

I can't tell if you approve of my being silly or want me to play it straight. I'm sorry but I just can't do it I'm afraid. I'd feel too bad.

'Sorry, you probably want to see me too.' I say...and grab my shirt and pull it over my head, awkwardly, and then finally reveal my upper body to you.

Now, time for a slight reality check. I'm no Adonis. Far from it. But also, I'm not fat either. I'm just...average, a bit skinny even. But certainly no one would ever mistake me for being a gym junkie; there is little to no definition whatsoever...

I see you looking at me, and remark:

'Yeah. I work out!' I say proudly. And ridiculously. God be praised up on high for females not seeming to care that much about male bodies. Or, at least, so I hoped. At least there was a decent joke in there anyway.

You can't help but let out a little giggle.

And then, bless, give a little nod as if to say 'Oh Yes, I can tell.'

Humouring the idiot slovenly fanboy.

I look around, oblivious to my embarrassing exposure. My socks are still on for god's sake..

'Is that your phone there?' I ask, reaching over and taking it up. You look at me, shocked, like you're ready to kill me.

You said my phone remember, not yours...

'I know the T&Cs said no photos...but what about your phone? Can I get a selfie?' I ask, as if I've run into you in public somewhere.

Your phone happens to be a similar model to my own (just newer), so I know the shortcut to the camera that allows you to take a photo without having to unlock it.

You begin to shake your head in protest but I am already plopping myself down next to you.

I put my arm around your shoulder and make a V sign as I smile at the camera. I can see in the screen that you are looking at me sideways like you want to kill me. As you well should.

Click.

I snap the photo and bring the camera down to view it.

'Ah bugger. I missed your tits! Can we do it again?' I ask, but do not give you any time to protest, bringing my hand up and extending my arm further away from us...making sure I can see your nipples in frame.

Click.

'That's better! Don't forget to send it to me ok?!' I ask, earnestly. You look at me like I've lost my mind. Either honestly or you're a good actor. Hard to tell.

I look down at you from my new viewpoint.

'Huh. I thought your nipples would be harder by now.' I comment.

I reach up and handle your breast. Not fondle. Handle. Weighing it up. Like I'm judging you at a county fair.

You look up at me in disgust and look to say something, but I use the moment to lean in to try to kiss you...tongue outstretched and leading the charge.

You recoil, of course, and I end up licking your neck instead.

No bother. I do not let it deter me and forge on, lapping at your neck and cheek as if I'm trying to catch melting ice cream running down my arm.

You reach up and push me away in my chest.

'That's...not part of the...agreement.' You finally say something. Playing along I suppose. I would have said the exact same thing.

And it's only then that I realise that you're actually going to let me go through with this! You're actually going to let me, or Fanboy me, or whatever, actually crawl up and over you, and mount you.

Holyfuckingshit!

'Oh ok. Whatever.' I reply, as if wholly unperturbed and not suddenly borderline about to faint.

Your loss.

'Let's get down to business then shall we?' I say and get up and gently push you down onto the couch so that you are lying down...your nude form all laid out. Glorious.

You just lay there, and look at me, as if submitting yourself to some kind of improper medical exam.

I can't help but take a brief moment to admire and marvel at your gorgeous form, and then climb up onto the couch with you and lay down upon you.

I have to kind of jostle your legs apart so that my own can get between them...and then, without further ado, a lower myself onto your prostrate form...and press my erection against you, right on your slit.

Ye gods! My bits are touching your bits! It can't be real!

Slowly, I instinctively, move back and forth upon you.

Despite everything. That I said, and am likely making you feel...I can still detect...a wetness...down there. Your body betrays you Miss Watson.

You scoot back a little, so your head is on the armrest. I just follow.

'Oh. Ok. If it pleases m'lady.' I reply. Horribly.

'You ever LARP?' I ask down to you, as if now's the time for general conversation.

You shake your head, your lips sealed tight in grim determination not to let my awfulness make you break. Grim.

'I'm in House Hufflepuff. You know, the smart one.' I say, proudly. Cos you know. Brains.

It is perhaps the only thing I do know about HP that Ravenclaw are the smart ones. So I'm wrong basically.

'Sorry about the condom....' I add, as if that's the thing giving you your aghast look on your face.

'I know I insisted...it's just that I'm not really into kids, and my friend Robby says you can't be too careful about STIs, especially with people from Hollywood...'

'I'm sure you're fine though.' I say, oh so generously.

Yet again, you gamely suppress your reaction to this series of insults. You're good I must say.

'Might as well get started then.' I say merrily, not a question.

I reach down and begin to try to guide my cock to where it is trying to go...to...plunder.

You grimace in grim anticipation, probably more aghast at yourself for ever having thought this was any kind of good idea, than me actually being the one doing it. Hopefully anyway!

And I pause, just before the great invasion.

'Emma Watson and me. Become one.' I say, as if it's the suavest thing ever.

It's awkward on the couch. There really isn't enough room for us both. I pull one of your legs up beside my hip, and your other slides off the edge of the couch.

Your arms are in the way too so I prod them out of the way so I can hold myself up.

I am face to face with you now. My hard cock squished between us.

Now. I should probably mention at this pivotal prior to PIV juncture, that this little role play is quite conflicting for me too you know. On the one hand, I have the perfect excuse to be a two pump chump, which is good because I wasn't so much in character that I am not also pretty fucking overwhelmed with the looming reality that I am about to stick my dick in to none other than you know who. You. I should have put five condoms on. I think to myself. Too late now.

And on the other hand. On the other hand. Ah fuck what was it. Oh yes on the other hand I was knowingly being a shit lover, and watching you recoil to my grossness, which, however feigned, was not a feeling that I was particularly happy about.

Perhaps I shouldn't have done this whole roleplay thing, and just stayed as me and given it my all, for good or for ill...

Again. Too late now.

I move my hips forward and poke at your crotch with my dick. In the vicinity of your entrance, but lost in the carpark, trying to find the gate.

'Hmm.' I grunt. And try again. Over-correcting. And prodding to no useful effect once more.

'Where is it?' I ask in frustration, as if it could not possibly have been my fault I can't locate your anatomically perfect entrance.

You look at me with that bemused scowl of yours, sigh and slip your hand between us, and guide me to where I ought to be. You know I'm playing my part, but you can't help but hold it against me. Me against you.

Nevertheless...you line me up, and I begin to slip inside you. Lord kill me now!

You don't make so much as a sound as I enter you. Such is my girth and virility.

'Aahh.' I let out happily.

'Now that feels good.' I commentate, letting my whole weight bear down upon you.

I look down at you and smile serenely, and then reveal, wonderfully;

'Feels like my satin pillows on a hot day.' Jesus.

The hits just keep coming.

I make my first thrust and honestly have to steel myself from cumming right then and there.

Fuck you have no idea how hard this is for me. You feel sooooo fucking goooodd.

It's so luxurious that, well, I feel like I'm, figuratively speaking, fucking the Crown Jewels.

I make another thrust and miraculously manage to stave off cumming once more. If you do so much as twitch your cunt (sorry) muscles then I am a goner for sure.

'Are you close yet?' I ask, after the third risky thrust.

You look up at me in sheer and utter disbelief. Which hurts me somewhat, if I'm being dumbly honest.

Don't. Break. Character. I incant to myself.

'Just cum whenever you want. I want you to.' I say, generously.

'My friend Robby said when he has sex the girl just cums continuously and it's distracting. But I don't think I'd mind.'

You can't help but begin to smile now, finally beginning to find some sense of amusement in my crude and comically offensive remarks. But you are equally determined not to laugh at them...that would be to admit that...this...isn't...awful, and you're a long way from that yet.

Still. My ridiculousness is beginning to get the better of you.

I begin to fuck you at a slightly faster rate. Shallow, pointless thrusts.

Now with my full weight upon you.

I am breathing heavily into your ear as I whisper my sweet terrible nothings.

'Have you ever considered an OnlyFans account? I could help with the lighting.' I suggest.

A scowl, and a smirk.

'God this feels good...I ordered a fleshlight once but my mum intercepted the package. So I have nothing to compare it to.' I try again. To get a rise out you.

You have to actively supress a laugh at that last one.

Thrust, thrust, thrust. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Despite what you said at the restaurant. Your pussy really is...magical.

Still. There's nothing quite as emasculating as having you dick in a girl and them giving absolutely no outward display of it happening....

God I hope you're acting.

In that moment you remind me of that scene from Amelie, where there's some man on top of her thrusting away, and she is barely involved. Bemused at best at what the man thinks to be wonderful.

Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.

Slightly harder now. I do actually want you to feel something.

Finally, your mouth opens slightly, the only clue thus far that you are even feeling me inside you.

I should continue. But.

'God. Its hard work being on top.' I say suddenly, feigning being out of breath, as I would be...

'Mind if we swap?' I ask, but don't wait for an answer.

I grab you around your shoulders and, keeping you locked with me, roll over, taking you with me, off the couch and land with a thud to the floor.

Awkward, but effective. We are still locked in position.

I look up at you now sitting upon me. You look less than impressed, both with my manoeuvre, and your now necessarily active position.