Dancing Fool Chapter 2

9 min read

You are dragged to a dance club only to meet a nice Cambridge boy who likes dancing. You didn’t know how much one dance would change your life.

Written by: Sil and Odogoo

A Tom Hiddleston X Reader Fan Fiction

Pure and Utter Smut | ​Adult Themes

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9

You feel his breath on your ear before he gives it a light bite.  “Then, take me there,” he says as you lead him through the crowd. It gives his cock time to cool off a bit, and not be on the verge of exploding.

His hand rests on your lower back, its heat burning through your sheer top, reminding you of what you are about to do. Sure, you’re not some innocent maid, but it has been a number of months since you last had a boyfriend, and sex was never high on your priorities list.

You both reach the cool night air where you can start walking side by side. You turn to ask him if you need to stop anywhere first, but he presses you against the wall, kissing you as soon as you open your mouth.

“I’ve got protection in my pocket,” you hear him say as he gives your body a light grind before stepping back, allowing you to unlock the car.  He opens the driver’s door for you before he gets into the passenger side.  His hand rests on his cock through his jeans, stroking and pushing it, trying to get it in a position where it wouldn’t hurt while he was sitting for the drive.

Your house is only a few blocks away.  It’s the sort of distance you would normally walk, but you knew at the end of the night, you didn’t want to struggle with a drunken roommate who had sore feet from the impossibly high heels she insisted on wearing to dance in.  Still, it felt twice as far tonight as you drove your guest to your home.

By the time you pull up to your place, you see large wet mark on his jeans, right at the noticeable head of his cock. While you don’t think he had cum, you are amazed at how much pre-cum there seems to be.

“Wow, do you um rent this whole place,” he asked giving his cock a squeeze, hoping it would stop the throbbing.

“Yeah, we got it for a good price, too.  Are you thirsty?”  You try to ignore the fact he was rubbing his hard cock through his tight jeans in front of you.  From the size of the spot, and the length of the bulge, you feel certain you will be having a very enjoyable night.

You see him lick his lips, him biting his bottom one as he heard your voice.  “I would like that.” You could hear the rasp and lust in his voice.  You knew he was close.  While he tried to do it discretely, you knew he had been rubbing himself the whole car ride while looking at you.

“I have a nice wine already chilled.” You walk up to the front door after he again opens the car door for you.  Unlocking it, you lead the way to the kitchen to grab the bottle and two glasses.

“Trying to get me drunk to have your way with me,” he teases, removing his hand from his pants.

You laugh nervously, “I’m not the skilled seducer; I don’t normally bring strangers home. Perhaps some wine, a little music…”  You glance away, embarrassed at how hopefully-romantic that must sound to him.

“Well,” he says accepting your offered glass, “You are doing a marvelous job.  Your friend was quite right about you.” He muses, taking a few sips of the wine with a smile.

“You must think me some sort of pathetic fool.”  You sip from your wine and move toward the den, flipping on a lamp on your way past it. The room is lowly lit, showing rows of polished natural golden oak bookcases filling one wall, a plush couch and chair, and a large fireplace. A lush rug adorns the hardwood floor.

You reach the stereo system and tune it to a suitable station.  As you find what you think is the perfect music, his eyes scan the wall next to you.

“Would you like to know what I think of it all,” he asks suddenly close to you.

You jump a little at how close he is; you hadn’t heard him move.  Your eyes scan up his long, lean torso to his finely chiseled jawline, and then up to his vibrant, expressive eyes. “What color are your eyes,” you murmur. You inwardly groan at how stupid it must sound, but you don’t seem to be able to stop yourself. “Lords of the wide world and wild watery seas, Indued with intellectual sense and souls…”

His eyes flash at hearing his.  “I need you against this lovely looking bookcase. Now,” he growls low. Before you can even squeak, he picks you up and presses your spine to the bound leather, paper, and ink that lines the shelves.

You lean forward to press your lips against his as your thighs grip his hips, your leather skirt rucked up exposing your red lace panties.

He moans into your mouth giving your core a swift buck.  You are held between him and the heavy bookcase. His hands and mouth are everywhere at once as he thrusts against the meager protection of lace covering your womanhood.

His hands skim under your shirt, pushing it up and over your head.  Your hands find their way into his wonderfully, thick curly hair.  You pull his head back by a handful and manage to gasp out “protection.”

He pulls back; you can see his pants must be killing him as he pulls the foil packet from his pocket. He swiftly pulls off his pants, and rolls the condom on his pulsating cock.  Your eyes widen upon seeing what he is working with, and what will soon be within you.  He looks up at you, and you see his eyes flash.  Then he utters, “Once more unto the breach.”

“…Then imitate the action of the tiger; Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, Disguise fair nature with hard…” you murmur in response.

His eyes flash again, as if you just caught the eye of a tiger, and you are its prey.  He’s flush with you again, ripping your panties from your body. He pays just enough attention to your skirt to hike it up around your hips just enough so it’s out of the way, allowing his cock to slip between your legs.

He feels white hot as he fumbles to find your entrance in his haste.  “There, please…”you pant, feeling the intense need for him to fill and be surrounded by your welcoming sheath.

Not a moment after you help his cockhead find your opening, he is fully sheathed inside of you.  He had hoped you weren’t a virgin, and if you had been, it would’ve been easier this way.  He moans as he does this, matching your gasp.

He pauses to let you adjust to his length and girth.  He whispers in your ear, “okay?”  You nod, and whisper, “yes.” Then he moves his hips.

His motion is slow at first, but then he picks up the pace. He feels incredible.  You can feel every inch of him with his heavy drag and pull, the sliding friction against your most sensitive places inside, the grind of his pelvis as his balls swing forward to slap against your clit, his breath on your neck, the grip of his large hands on your ass while he pounds up into you.

Then you feel it.  It isn’t something you’ve ever experienced before, but the sweet mixture of pleasure and pain can only be one thing:  his throbbing cock head is bumping against your cervix with each forward thrust.

The sensation takes you by surprise, quickly building your burning lust into an inferno. The walls of your pussy contract and convulse, squeezing hard as that tight coil low down in your nethers suddenly releases into a blinding orgasm that leaves you shaking.

He is there with you, grateful that you came sooner rather than later. He isn’t sure how much longer he would’ve lasted.  He bites your shoulder as he erratically thrusts with his orgasm. His hips start to slow, before coming to a stop, his breathing shallow.

Your head rests against the shelf behind you. As your breathing calms, the scent of old leather and worn paper fills your nostrils. You chuckle. “I never thought my love of Shakespeare would lead to this.”

“MMM me either,” he responds.  He places a kiss on your neck and slowly pulls out. Letting you down so that your feet touch the ground, he holds you close to him.  His cock hangs low, still full, heavy, and pulsing

The silence feels awkward. Was he the sort to want to stay and cuddle?  Was he debating how to extract himself so he could leave with all due haste? Did he want to spend the night? You worry your lip as you wonder what to say or do. What was appropriate for someone picked up in a club?

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