Rolling over in your massive king size bed, you wrap yourself up
in the plush comforter, not wanting the day to begin. But it’s caught on
something – you can’t quite pull it all the way up. Reaching out to give it a
good yank, a warm body next to you blocks your path. You run your fingers along
the muscular arm, finding your way to his fuzzy chest.
Thomas.
As if he could hear your thoughts, he rolls over and says, “Good
morning, beautiful.”
Cuddling up to his chest, you lay with his arms wrapped around
your body, your legs intertwined.
“Did you sleep well?” you ask.
With a sleepy grunt, he nods his affirmation. “Never better,
actually.”
“Me, too,” you said, nuzzling into his chest. And it was the
truth. There was something about sleeping next to him, feeling completely safe,
that put your very soul at ease. It was an entirely new feeling for you, and
you were already addicted. “I love you, Thomas.”
Butterflies fluttered from your stomach to your chest. Of course
it was true, but neither of you had said it since the incident. Leaving him on
the doorstep, pushing him away – you still couldn’t bear to think about it.
Maybe he had changed his mind. Maybe he would never say it again. Looking into
his sleepy eyes, you couldn’t make out what he was thinking.
Before you had the chance to overanalyze anything else, his lips
were on yours. His nose pressed into your face, his lips softly caressing your
own. His warm hand slipped into your pajama top, grazing your bare back in the
most comforting way. Your anxiety melted away with every sweet little kiss;
there was no lust, no demand – just a tender expression of his love for you.
Taken aback, you look into his eyes, his thumb softly grazing your
cheek. In this moment, you don’t have a care in the world. The anxieties of
yesterday are history; all that matters is the future that exists with this incredible
man in front of you. Overcome with emotion, you kiss him again, deeper and more
urgently. Slowly, you climb on top of him. His hands rest on your hips as you
settle in, your arms wrapped around his neck as you’re making out. Your fingers
find their way into his curls, twisting them around and pulling gently as you
kiss. The first time he lets out a moan, you about lose your mind; it was soft,
breathy, quiet – so subtle you almost missed it. But you didn’t. It stirred something
deep within you, and you desperately wanted more.
You sit up, pausing for a moment before pulling your top off and
tossing it to the floor. You held your breath as he took in the view – the
woman he loved, straddling his nearly naked body, now topless in front of him
for the very first time. You were suddenly remembering every little flaw you
see in the mirror – the little stretch marks, the stubborn pudge; surely, they
were as obvious to him as they are to you. He leans forward, running his hands
down every curve, his nails lightly scratching as they made their way up your back.
“You’re stunning.”
Blushing slightly, you thank him for the compliment. “This part is
always scary for me.”
“You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen,” he promised. Closing
the space between, he pulls you in for another kiss. With both arms wrapped
around your body, he twists around until your back is against the mattress.
Hovering slightly above you, a serious look comes over his face.
“Do you want to stop?” he asks.
Without hesitation, you shake your head. “No.”
“Tell me what you want.”
I want your
fingers. As awfully as the other night ended, it started with some of your
favorite foreplay. There were certain things fingers could do that penises just
couldn’t. It was all about you – and it was always the more generous lovers
that chose to please a woman when there wasn’t as much involved for them. Most
men wanted something in return, an equal exchange. But Thomas was different.
“Touch me like you did at the theater.”
He lays down next to you, sliding one arm between you and your
pillow. He always wants to hold you, no matter the situation, position, or setting.
It was endearing, and sweet. Even as his hand slid into your panties, the
emotions arising over all others were those of safety and comfort.
He leaned in to kiss you, gently taking your bottom lip between
his as he slid a finger between your folds. As his tongue went deeper into your
mouth, his finger slid deeper into your core. His movements were slow, building
torturous tension with every stroke – something you suspect he knew. He
explored every part of you, coming back to all the little places that provoked
a reaction. Just as you enjoyed his moan, hearing your gasps, sighs, and feminine
whimpers left him breathless. He couldn’t wait to make you scream.
As he rubbed circles around your pearl, your heart was pounding –
you knew you were getting close, but you didn’t want it to end. Not yet. As
hard as it was to stop him, you knew there was more pleasure waiting for you –
you just had to take it.
“Take off your boxers,” you said between gasps. He pace was
quickening; he was practically slamming into you. It took all of your strength
to stop him, but you wanted more.
“Are you sure?” he asked, not wanting to risk another chance at
being left on your doorstep.
“Yes, Thomas, please,” you replied. I’m practically begging.
“Whatever you want, my love.” He rolled onto his back, hooking his
thumbs into the waistband of his underwear. Before he could get them off, you
were there to help, pulling them down his legs and flinging them across the
room. Your excitement both delighted and aroused him. “Get on top. I want you
to feel completely in control.”
“Yes, sir,” you said with a wink. You climbed onto him, lowering
yourself down on his rock-hard erection. He filled every bit of space you had
to offer. Using his legs to brace yourself, you threw your head back as your
body adjusted to the man inside you. Your hips start to roll as Thomas sits up,
pulling you even further onto him.
He held you close, kissing you all over as you were riding him;
your neck, your shoulders, your nipples – if it was within reach, he was worshipping
it. Finally, he reached your lips once again. Fully embraced in each other’s
arms, the rhythm of his hips matched yours. Totally in sync, the tension was
building again, faster and more intense than before.
Every groan scratching out of his throat pushed you closer to the
edge; you were out of breath, flushed and hot, as Thomas reached down to your pearl.
The speed of his finger against your clit brought you to bliss within seconds.
You bury your face in his neck, screaming his name.
“Oh, Tho- Thomas!”
Every muscle in your body clenched, your tightening walls seducing
him to come with you. You could feel every movement as his throbbing shaft twitched
and pulsed, emptying inside of you. He pulls you down with him as he collapses
back onto the bed, his arms still wrapped around you.
Minutes pass as you both
try to catch your breath. Then, he has just one word to say: “Wow.”
“Yes, that was… wow,” you agreed, still not thinking clearly
enough to form thoughts of your own. Finding your place on his chest, you
settle in, taking time to enjoy the moment. Lying next to Thomas, your vision
slowly becomes clearer; your heart rate slows. You’re at ease. Never in your
life have you been so happy, so content. Not to mention, so totally satisfied.
Just when you thought things couldn’t get any better, he turns towards you to
ask a question.
“Are you hungry?”
“Starving, Thomas.”
“We did work up quite an appetite,” he said with a wink. “Would
you like me to cook you some breakfast? Some scrambled eggs, and I think
there’s still a bagel leftover from last night.”
“That would be wonderful.”
You watch as he rolls out of bed, searching the room for the
boxers you flung off him earlier.
“Um, Thomas…” When you had his attention, you pointed up – they
had landed on the top of your armoire. Your face began to blush as he giggled
at the sight of his underwear near the ceiling; you pulled on your silk
dressing robe and walked with Thomas into the kitchen.
You weren’t much for cooking, and not entirely sure what gadgets
and tools you even had. But Thomas seemed to find everything with ease, cooking
up a lovely breakfast for the two of you to share. After three divorces, you
weren’t entirely sure marriage was something you’d ever want again. But sitting
here in the morning light, Thomas W. Hiddleston by your side, he might just be
able to change your mind.
A warm rush of air swept over you as you stepped through the
door into Tom’s trailer. He stepped in behind you and slammed the door, sending
shockwaves through the walls. You quietly take a seat near the heater, rubbing
your arms to get warm, as Tom paced through the small space.
“Is everything alright?” you ask tentatively.
“Do I look like
everything is alright?” he said, glaring at you from across the room. He then
signed, bracing himself against the counter as he dropped his head in defeat.
“I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”
You walk over to him, placing your hand on the small of his
back. He was chilled to the bone, and soaking wet. It was only noon but he’d
been at work since 5am; it was enough to make anyone cranky.
“Let me get you a towel,” you said, trying to slip behind
him.
“No, I don’t need a bloody towel,” he snapped, slinking away
from your touch. Any other day, he’d be happy to let you console him. But his
agitation got the best of him. His hands were lost in his thick, wet curls; his
grip tighter than you’ve ever seen. He closes his eyes, trying to catch his
breath.
“I don’t mean to take it out on you,” he said, pacing again. He then paused for a moment, looking you dead in the eye.
“Oh, fuck it.”
In two steps, he was in front of you. Before you knew what
was happening, your back was against the wall. Tom took each of your wrists in
his hands, pulling them away from your body and holding them above your head. His
body, from head to toe, pressed against yours.
“Thomas, let me…” you said as his teeth grazed your ear, interrupting
every thought flying through your brain.
“Don’t make a sound,” he growled, his hot breath sending
chills down your spine. You close your eyes as he kisses your neck, teasing you
with his tongue. Bracing your wrists in his left hand, his right travels down your
body, slipping beneath your dress. His cold hand tears the delicate lace
panties away from your body in an instant.
The shock of it all causes you to gasp. All the time you’ve
been with Tom, he’s never been like this – dark, intense, unrelenting. It was
intriguing; you didn’t know what was going to happen next, and there was no way
in hell you were going to stop him.
“Do I need to keep that mouth busy or are you going to be
quiet?” he asked. His forehead was pressed to yours, his icy eyes staring down
at you. His fingers slipped over your mound, feeling their way between your
folds, dripping wet with desire. Biting your lip to keep from making another
sound, this time it’s him that moans, deep and breathy, as his finger slips
inside you.
He can’t wait another moment before having you. Finally
releasing your hands, he struggles to unbutton his tight, wet pants. Without a
word, and now feeling as impatient as he is, you wrestle the button free; he
pushes the fabric down below his hips, just enough to bare his erection.
He grabs you behind your thighs, picking you up and wrapping
your legs around his waist. He pushes you against the wall as his mouth crashes
into yours; your lips parted to let him in as he lifted you higher, slamming you
down on his rock-hard cock. As soon as he was inside you, you could feel him
moaning into your mouth, the vibrations echoing through your entire body.
He bounces you up and down, up and down, watching as
shockwaves ripple through your breasts with every thrust. Your arms wrap
tighter around his shoulders, clawing into his skin to keep from moaning. Your
back arched off the wall, craving every inch he had to offer. Every thrust
overwhelmed your senses; the look of lust on his face, the sound of his skin
hitting yours, the feeling of your walls throbbing around his length.
Looking into his eyes, you could tell he was close. Nearing
the tipping point yourself, you took a risk. Your hands slid into his hair,
tugging on a handful of curls as you whisper in his ear, “Come with me, Thomas.”
He knew he had told you to be silent, but damn it if you
didn’t know how to push him over the edge. Your head dropped to his shoulder,
biting at his muscle as his pace intensified, his shaft throbbing inside of
you. Moan after fractured moan scratched from his throat, sending you over the
edge. Every muscle in your body clenched as he spilled inside you, your orgasm
enticing his own.
His hands and legs were shaking, his breath as erratic as
yours. He slowly set you down on your feet before you both collapsed onto the
floor. Laying on his chest, you could hear his heartbeat gradually slowing.
There was no need to speak; the two of you had made love before, many times. It
was always incredible, but never like this. This was a completely new side to
him. And you loved it.
“Feel better?” you asked.
“Yes, much.” A shy smile shot across his face. Suddenly
aware of how aggressive he’d been, he now seemed wary; nervous that he had
shown you a darker side of himself. “I’m sorry if I was…”
“Shhh.” Your fingers went to his lips as he struggled to
find the words. Holding his face in your hands, you gently stroke his stubbly
cheek. “I loved it.”
Rolling to his side, he takes you in his arms, kissing you
in the way that you’re used to being kissed by Thomas W. Hiddleston – softly,
loving and delicate, like you were his greatest treasure. But you’ll never
forget the day you saw his dark side.
Imagine laying in bed next to Chris. It’s the middle of the night, and you can’t sleep. You glance over to see your boyfriend sleeping peacefully – and naked. Studying every ripped muscle on his body, there’s only one thing on your mind. If you can’t sleep, at least you can give your boyfriend something he’s always wanted: waking up to your mouth around his dick.
Imagine going to an awards show with your husband, Chris
Pine. You were both having a wonderful evening, until you ran into your ex, Chris
Evans. You separated amicably, so you don’t think anything of it when he gives
you a hug; your husband, on the other hand, can’t get it out of his head. He’s
short with you the rest of the party, slamming the door to the hotel room when the
night is finally over. Without a word, he pulls the dress from your body, slinging
it across the room. His jaw tightens as he realizes you hadn’t been wearing any
panties.
“You let Captain
America near you like this?” he said with venom in his voice.
“I did it for you. You know you’re the only Captain for me,”
you replied, sauntering over to him.
But he’s having none of your games. Taking you by the
shoulders, he spins you around, bending you over the bed. He presses his body
against yours, whispering into your ear that if you know what’s good for you,
you won’t try to get up.
He unbuckles his belt and lets his pants fall to his ankles.
Without warning, he spreads your legs, slamming into you from behind. The force
both shocked and exhilarated you; the deep groans that escaped his throat with
every thrust pushed you to the edge. It was only minutes before you’d both
finished, breathless and frail. Riding out the wave of pleasure, he leans
forward, still inside you. He grabs a handful of your hair and tells you that
he hopes you’ve learned your lesson. From now on, he’s the only Chris in your
life.
Painfully Thick Imagines 