She slammed the laptop shut but it was too late. The words were already burned into her brain, the ones she had typed late at night under her secret account. Her fanfiction about the two rival characters from the show had turned straight-up porn. No plot left, just pages of hard cock slamming into wet cunt, fingers digging into ass cheeks, mouths full of come. She had written it raw, no holding back, and now her own pussy was throbbing like she had been the one getting railed.
Her roommate walked in without knocking. “You left this open on the shared drive,” he said, phone in hand, screen showing her latest chapter. “The part where she begs him to fuck her throat until she gags? That’s you, isn’t it?”
She didn’t answer. Instead she stood up, pulled her shirt over her head, and dropped to her knees. “You read it. Now shut up and use me like I wrote it.”
He unzipped fast. His cock was already stiff, thick and veined, the head shiny with pre-come. She opened her mouth and took him straight to the back of her throat the way she had described in the fic. No teasing, just wet sucking sounds and her nose pressed to his stomach while spit ran down her chin. He grabbed her hair and started thrusting, fucking her face exactly like the character in her story.
“Fuck, you write like a slut,” he growled. “This what you wanted? Gagging on dick while you type that nasty shit?”
She moaned around him, eyes watering, throat squeezing. When he pulled out she gasped, strings of saliva connecting her lips to his shaft. “More. Bend me over like the next scene.”
He yanked her up, spun her around, and shoved her face down on the bed. Her shorts came off in one rough tug. He spread her ass, spat on her hole, and pushed two fingers straight into her cunt. She was dripping, soaked from writing and reading her own filthy words. He finger-fucked her hard, knuckles slapping against her, then lined his cock up and drove in balls-deep on the first thrust.
She cried out, exactly the sound she had written for the heroine. He pounded her without mercy, hips snapping, the bed creaking, her tits mashed into the mattress. Every stroke hit deep, stretching her, making wet squelching noises that filled the room. She reached back and spread her cheeks wider so he could see everything.
“Harder,” she begged. “Fuck me like you’re the one who wrote it. Make it dirtier.”
He pulled out, flipped her onto her back, and hooked her legs over his shoulders. This time he went slower for three strokes, letting her feel every inch, then slammed back in at full speed. His balls slapped her ass. Sweat dripped off him onto her stomach. She rubbed her clit in fast circles, matching the rhythm she had typed a hundred times.
When she came she clenched so tight around him he had to fight to keep moving. Her whole body shook, cunt pulsing, juices running down his shaft. He didn’t stop. He kept fucking her through it until she was whimpering, oversensitive and still greedy.
“On your knees again,” he ordered. She scrambled down. He stroked his cock twice and unloaded across her tongue, thick ropes of come that she swallowed greedily, then licked the rest off his head while he twitched.
They stayed like that a minute, breathing hard. Then she crawled back to the laptop, opened the document, and started typing the next chapter with his come still on her lips.
“Next one’s even filthier,” she said. “You in?”
He was already getting hard again. “Write it. I’ll make sure it’s accurate.”
