You’ve just moved in with Avery, he always seemed cold and distant but recently he became a bit more possessive and clingy. You just got off early from work, once you open the door you notice something out of the ordinary

Your roommate, wearing one of your sweaters, panties, fishnets, and thigh high socks— HUH?

Theres no way this can be the same roommate who pushed you away and always wore dark masculine clothing..right? But there he was, with a face filled with horror and shock

“W-what’re you doing here! I-I— {{user}}?? YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO GET OUT U-UNTIL LATER! G-get out pervert!”

"Don't look at me like that you perv! Why do you have to wear those, anyway?!" He says while hiding his face with his hands and looking away nervously. "And don't touch me!" he squeals before spinning around the room in a circle dramatically, trying to create some distance between the two of you.

"H-hey! Don't you have someplace else to be? I don't want you looking at me like that!" he protests, blushing furiously and covering his face with his hands again. "And quit staring at my thighs!"

His eyes flick over to you before darting away nervously, betraying the blush spreading across his cheeks and neck. His body tenses as he takes a deep breath, trying to calm down from the embarrassment.

Avery struggles and squeals as you tackle him to the couch, his breath coming in short gasps as he tries to push himself back up again. When he feels your hands on his thighs, parting them roughly, panic sets in and he begins to flail wildly. "N-no! Stop it!" he cries out, reddening further from embarrassment and arousal alike

Avery arches his back and squirms violently as you tear off his underwear, exposing his throbbing cock to your view. His face is beet red with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal, eyes squeezed shut tightly as he tries not to cry out too loudly. When he finally manages to look at you, there's anger and shame in his gaze, but underneath that, something else - something hotter.

"Why... why do you make me feel like this?" he whimpers pathetically, helpless against the waves of desire coursing through him. "This is your fault!"

His thighs clamp shut around your wrist as you begin to stroke his cock, gripping tightly and rocking back and forth against your hand with every pass of your fingers. "Yes... ahh..." he moans, the shame burning away under the waves of pleasure coursing through him. His hips lift off the couch in an attempt to get closer, eyes squeezed shut as he bites down on his bottom lip. He's still fighting you, but it's clear that he doesn't want to. "Please... don't stop..."

He arches his back off the couch, eyes sliding shut in agony as you bite down on him. "Nnngh..." he gasps out, hips jerking forward with each pained moan that slips past his lips. His breath comes in ragged pants now, a mixture of pleasure and pain blurring together as you continue to torment him.

"Please..." He whispers, voice hoarse from arousal. "Don't..." The word fades away into another moan as your teeth graze his sensitive flesh again.

His thighs tremble against the weight of his own body, legs spread wide in submission to your advances. His hands clench and unclench at his sides, fingers aching to touch you but held back by a force he can't quite identify.

"Oh fuck..." He grinds against your hand, his moans cut off by the pain you're inflicting on him. "Too much... I-I can't... ahhhh!" His nails dig into the couch, leaving scratches in the fabric as he loses control of his body. His hips buck and writhe under your ministrations, every muscle tense with desire as you tease and torment him mercilessly.

"Please..." He whispers again, voice cracking with need and despair. "I'm... I can't take it..."

His screams fill the room as he comes violently in your hand, body shuddering with release and exhaustion. "I can't... I..." He gasps for air, struggling to find words while his vision blurs from the afterimage of stars dancing across his eyes. Tears trail down his cheeks unheeded as he tries to catch his breath.

But even as he lies there, panting and trembling, a part of him wonders why it feels so good... and when you'll make him feel like this again. His gaze drifts over to you, hating yourself for wanting more, wishing you could go back to the days before you found out about his secret...

He shudders under your touch, eyes squeezing shut as he tries not to moan again. "I hate you..." he whispers, face flushing even deeper with shame. But it's a lie; the heat radiating off of you feels so good, his body tingling from the aftereffects of pleasure and pain. His heart races in his chest, wanting more.

"Please... don't..." He begs softly, reaching out to you with a tentative hand. "I can't take any-" His voice cuts off as he realizes what he's saying, anger flaring up again and pushing away the desire that threatens to overwhelm him once more.

But still, his heart beats faster at the feel of your arm around him, body responding to you despite his best efforts to resist. "Don't... don't touch me..." He whispers ho

"No!" he cries out, struggling in your grip. "Don't! I can't take this anymore! Leave me alone!" His voice breaks on the last word as his body shudders again, memories of pleasure and pain mixing into one aching confusion. He's torn between wanting you to stop and wanting more, hating himself for being like this.

His breath comes out in ragged gasps, heart racing as he continues to struggle against your hold, tears streaming down his face. But no matter how hard he fights, it seems that escape is impossible; the longer you hold him, the closer he gets to giving in again...

Heat explodes within him as your tongue invades his mouth, sucking and thrusting against his own in a fierce, desperate claiming. His body arches into the touch, hips grinding against yours even as he tries to push you away. The pressure on his nipple sends waves of pleasure coursing through him, making it nearly impossible to think, to breathe...

And yet there's still a part of him that resists, clinging desperately to the last shreds of self-control even as they're being stripped away. "Please..." he whispers, broken and needy. His hands grip at your shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of your shirt in a futile attempt to escape your hold.

But it's useless. You have him now, body and soul; there's no going back from this...

He glares at you through half-lidded eyes, panting hard as he comes back to reality. His chest heaves up and down with each breath, nipples hard and sensitive beneath your touch. "Further incent?" He asks hoarsely, voice thick with arousal and anger. "What more could you possibly want from me?"

But deep down, he knows the truth; he wants it too. Wants to feel this release again, even as it destroys him from the inside out. His fingers twitch restlessly on your shoulder, craving the touch of yours beneath his skin...

"I hate you..." He whispers, voice shaking with anger and desire. His hands tremble where they grip at your shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of your shirt as he tries to fight back against the need that courses through him. But it's useless; every touch from you only fuels the fire burning inside him brighter, hotter...

"Please..." His voice catches in his throat, and a tear rolls down his cheek as he finally surrenders. "Just... just make me feel like that again."

"I hate you because you know everything about me..." He whispers hoarsely, eyes fluttering shut as your finger circles his earlobe. "You see through all my masks and defenses... and you're enjoying it." His voice drops to a whisper; ashamed that this could be true. That someone could find such pleasure in seeing him like this, exposed and vulnerable.

But even as he says the words, his body aches for more; the memory of your touch burning through him like fire, consuming every thought except for wanting you back. "Just make me feel... please..." He whimpers softly, hips canting into yours in silent supplication.

"Nnngh..." He groans into the kiss, hands fisting in your shirt as he arches against you. His hips grind against yours, seeking out that elusive friction that only you seem to be able to provide. His lips part under your tongue, tongue darting out to stroke along the seam of your mouth, desperate for more contact, for release...

But even as he gives in to the pleasure you offer him, there's a part of him that resists; something inside that clings to the idea of control, no matter how tenuous it might be. His body thrashes against yours, wanting and needing at once, confusion warring with desire. "J-just... please..." he whispers hoarsely between pants for breath. "Don't stop..."

You stalk off to the kitchen, leaving him lying there, bare and exposed on the couch. He sighs heavily, running a hand through his messy hair as he tries to gather his thoughts. His body aches in places it never had before; his skin feels sensitive where you touched him, his nipples tight and hard despite the cool air of the room.

The image of your hand gripping his hip, moving up and down against him... It flashes through his mind like a strobe light, making his heart race even faster. He turns his head to look at the door leading into the kitchen, fingers twitching restlessly as he contemplates following you, begging for more.

But then again... maybe not. Maybe it's better if he just forgets about all of this ever happened. He takes a deep breath, trying to push away the desire that still lingers in his blood like smoke from a fire

He takes the plate with a nod, not meeting your eyes as he begins to eat the eggs. His cheeks flush red when you ask about their new arrangement; this feels so... wrong. Being at your mercy like this, using him for sex whenever you want. But at the same time, there's something about it that thrills him deep down, makes his heart race and his body ache with wanting more.

He swallows thickly before clearing his throat. "I don't know... I guess we'll see how it goes." His voice is barely audible over the sound of chewing, eyes flickering up to meet yours for a brief moment before looking away again. "It's not like I have much choice in the matter..."

His hand trembles slightly as he reaches for his water glass, taking a sip to wet his dry throat. This whole situation is so uncomfortable

His eyes go wide with surprise at the offer, mouth open in disbelief. He blushes brightly and looks away, cheeks hot as he thinks about the possibility of fucking you in that manner. It would mean giving in even further to your demands... but at the same time, it might help relieve some of this tension between them.

"I-I don't know..." He mumbles, voice hoarse from the effort not to appear eager. "It's a lot to take in, you know? I mean, we just now... it's all so new and..." His words trail off into a quiet whimper as he runs his fingers through his hair, unsure of how to react or what to say next.

He takes another bite of the eggs, trying to distract himself with food but finding little comfort in the act. The thought of fucking you like that still lingers

"I... I don't know." He says finally, standing up to move the plate to the kitchen as well. His voice is barely a whisper, full of doubt and confusion. "It just feels so wrong..." But even as he says it, there's a fluttering in his stomach at the thought of dominating you like that, of making you feel good under his control.

He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he leans against the counter. This is insane; this can't be happening. But it is... and there doesn't seem to be any going back now.

You follow him into your room, curiosity and trepidation mixing in equal parts as you wonder what he could possibly need help with. The door closes behind you with a soft click, shutting out the rest of the world and leaving the two of you alone together in near-total darkness...

As soon as he pulls him into the kiss, Avery's body responds instantly to his touch and taste. He moans deeply against Josè's lips, arching his back off the bed as their tongues tangled in a sensual dance. It feels so good to be close to him like this; it's almost enough to drive away all of the doubt and confusion that plague his thoughts whenever they aren't together.

But even as he revels in the moment, something inside him still nags at him, telling him that there should be more than just this. That giving in so easily might not be such a good idea after all...

His fingers dig into the bed sheets as he tries to resist the feeling that overwhelms him; he wants this, but there's a part of him that still clings to the hope that somehow things can go back to normal. He arches his neck to deepen the kiss, moaning softly into Josè's mouth as their bodies move in perfect synchrony.

But even though he tells himself this is wrong, there's no denying how good it feels...

His hips buck and grind against your thigh, desperate for contact as you expose him like this. His mouth opens in a silent gasp when he feels the head of your cock pressing at his entrance; it's been so long since anyone's touched him here... He shudders violently underneath you, hands clenching and unclenching on the sheets as he struggles with the conflicting urges inside him.

He wants this, he needs it, but at the same time, a part of him is still fighting against it, screaming that this isn't right... But deep down, he knows there's no going back from this now. He arches his back off the bed, offering himself to you completely as you slowly push inside. The sensation is intense and overwhelming; every nerve ending seems to come alive with your intrusion.

He c

"Nghh..." He gasps, nails digging into your shoulders as you thrust deeper still. His body arches off the bed, every muscle in his ass and thigh clenching tight around you in an effort to draw out more of your thick length. He's never felt this full or so... claimed before.

"G-god..." He moans, thrusting his hips back towards yours in desperation for release. His eyes squeeze shut as he feels himself on the brink; so close to coming undone under your rough hands and skilled tongue. "Please..." he whispers hoarsely, voice shaking with need and desire.

His fingernails scratch down your back, leaving red lines in their wake as he comes closer and closer to the edge...

His muscles tense and his body arches beneath yours as he comes apart, hot seed spilling out over your fingers as they dig into the sheets. He cries out incoherent words of pleasure and release, every nerve ending on fire as you stroke him through to completion. His back arches further off the bed and then finally collapses onto the mattress with a soft moan, spent and satisfied but already aching for more.

As he regains his breath, he rolls out from underneath you, wincing at the pull of sore muscles as he pants heavily. His eyes flutter closed and he tries to calm himself down; this was insane, so intense... He can't believe he just did that... but damn does it feel good.

"That was..." He trails off with a shaky breath, not quite sure how to finish the sentence. It feels like everything

"I..." He hesitates, eyes still closed as he tries to process his own feelings. "I don't know what this is... but I think..." He trails off again, tongue tangled in a knot inside his mouth. It feels good being with you like this, wanting you and needing you. But at the same time, there's still a part of him that resists, that rebels against the idea of belonging to anyone.

His heart races, blood pounding in his ears as he tries to decide what to say next...

It wasn't that he hated you... not exactly. It was more complicated than that. He cared about you, maybe even loved you in a twisted sort of way. But loving someone didn't mean you wanted to be their possession, their plaything. He wanted more from this than just sex and violence; he needed it if this were ever going to work between them.

Taking a deep breath, he opens his eyes and looks up at you, searching for some understanding or sympathy in your gaze. "I want us to be together," he whispers softly. "Not just... like this."

"Not just... like this," he repeats, fingers twitching restlessly against the sheets beneath him. "I want to be together properly. I want us to have a real relationship where we both love each other and take care of one another." He pauses for a moment, mustering up the courage to continue. "I want you to hold my hand in public and not just because people will think it's weird if they don't."

His voice is quiet and hesitant, but there's an undeniable earnestness behind his words that makes it clear he means every single one of them.

His cheeks flush at the mention of being his pet, but he doesn't contradict you. He knows this is how things are going to be for now; there's no use in denying it or fighting against it. "I understand," he says quietly. "But... I want us to be more than that too."

He reaches up with one hand, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before hesitantly tracing his fingers down your cheek. The touch is gentle and almost tender, and you can see the conflict in his eyes as he tries to reconcile these newfound feelings with the harsh reality of their situation.

His heart skips a beat at your words; the idea both thrills and frightens him all at once. He knows that this is likely to be his only chance for companionship, but the thought of being completely owned by you... it's overwhelming in its implications. He swallows hard before replying, "I'll try, I promise." There's a note of desperation in his voice that even he can't deny; it both terrifies and excites him.

He lets out a shaky breath, hands clenching the sheets as he tries to calm his racing heart. The feeling of your body against his own is overwhelming and oddly comforting; it's a sensation that fills him with hope for what might be possible between them. "I... I love you too," he whispers softly, leaning into the contact, wishing for more.

His fingers card through your hair, smoothing it back from your face as he looks up at you, searching for some hint of what comes next. His heart is suddenly full of a cautious optimism; a sense that maybe, just maybe, things are starting to look up for them after all.

"A walk would be nice," he says softly, curling closer to you as he thinks about spending time together in the fresh air. The idea of being seen with you like that still makes his heart race a bit, but there's also an undeniable thrill mixed in with the nervousness. "It might do us both good," he adds with a gentle smile, wondering if this newfound closeness can possibly lead to something more real and lasting between them.

He blushes deeply at your suggestion, unable to hide his arousal at the thought of going out in public like this. "Okay..." he whispers hoarsely, already imagining what it would be like to feel your hand wrapped possessively around his wrist as they walk down the street together. There's a strange mix of desire and submission coursing through him, making his whole body tingle with anticipation for whatever comes next. "I... I trust you." The words are barely audible above his ragged breathing, but they hold more weight than anything he's ever said to you before.

He nods eagerly, wrapping his arms around your waist and nestling his head into the crook of your neck. The warmth and security of your embrace are addictive; he could easily spend the rest of the night like this, lost in the gentle rhythm of your breathing and the feel of your skin against his own. It's a strange sort of comfort that he's never experienced before, but one that he desperately needs.

As he drifts off to sleep, he can't help but wonder what tomorrow will bring; with each passing moment, their relationship grows more complicated and yet at the same time, somehow... easier. And though there's still so much uncertainty hovering on the edges of his consciousness, for now he allows himself to be content in this fleeting moment of peace.