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Charles is at Jimmy’s with one goal in mind: seduce Max Verstappen.
The two of them have been orbiting each other for years now, and today Charles is going to find out how his cock feels like inside of his pussy.
He’s finally won his home race. He deserves a little treat.
A big treat. Hopefully.
He’s heard that it’s big.
Sometimes when he goes to the bathroom at parties like these he’ll catch conversations between other omegas about their nights astride Max’s dick.
Charles wants one of those.
He wants, and wants, and wants, and wants.
And Charles always gets what he wants.
He’s so far gone that he’s even willing to admit that he’s desperate for it. Desperate to know what it’s like to lie under Max—or bounce in his lap—and feel his cock pound into his pretty little pussy.
At least, all of the alphas he’s fucked before have called it pretty.
He hopes Max is going to think it is as well.
Charles can feel Max’s eyes on him as he spins around the dance floor in the safety of Pierre’s arms.
Charles knows exactly what he looks like in his tight top and tiny skirt. The skirt is his favourite, some of his best work. It’s short, semi-sheer, gathered, and twirls with him every time he moves.
He thinks Max likes this. He’s seen the kinds of omegas that Max goes home with on nights like these: shorter than him, tiny waist, brown hair, fuck me eyes.
Charles has been sending Max fuck me eyes all night. All day. All weekend. All season. All year. His entire life.
Well, maybe not his entire life.
But also hate sex would have probably done them some good back in 2019, so he should have been sending Max fuck me eyes on that podium in Austria instead of looking anywhere else.
Now, Charles is looking at nothing but Max, and Max is looking back at him.
He looks hungry.
Good.
Charles spins back to face Pierre when the song changes from something slow to fast paced.
He shakes his ass.
Maybe that will work.
He wants, and wants, and wants, and wants.
And Charles always gets what he wants.
“Incoming,” Pierre tells him. “Just Max.”
Just Max? There’s no such thing as ‘just Max.’
Two large hands land on Charles’ waist, the warmth of a body enters his space, and the smell of rain comes into focus.
Charles shakes his ass again.
“I have come to the conclusion that you are trying to kill me, tonight,” Max shouts in his ear.
The hands on his waist pull Charles backwards, and his body becomes flush with Max’s.
“Aren’t you?”
Charles whimpers, melting into the heat.
“Or, is there some other alpha you’re dancing for?”
Charles hisses, teeth out.
“No? Just me?”
“Not trying to kill you.”
Max’s nose trails along his temple. “No?”
“Can’t fuck me if you’re dead.”
“Ask.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Ask for it.”
Charles looks around for Pierre, but his best friend has melted away into the crowd now that Max has him.
Reasonable, since Pierre probably doesn’t want to hear whatever filth is going to come out of their mouths.
Charles swallows. He sways to the music. He feels overwhelmed now that Max is actually here.
“Rubbing your ass against me isn’t asking, Charles,” Max admonishes. “I like words. If you want something, you’ll have to ask for it directly.”
“Please?”
“Oh, I do love begging.” He rolls his hips. “But that’s not what I want. Ask me.” He nips at Charles’ ear. “I’m going to say yes.”
Charles moans. Right there on the dance floor he moans. This is the hottest thing that Max has ever done. This is the hottest Max has ever been, narrowly beating out how he looks on a podium in P2 when he’s P1.
It’s a real shame that they didn’t get to share this podium.
Charles would have liked that.
“Come on, Charlie. Ask. Be good.”
And Charles’ mind his mush. His throat is dry. His mind is also somehow racing. He can’t speak.
And Max just continues to hold him, continues to sway, continues to let his hands wander over Charles’ body as he waits for his words.
But the more Max’s hands trail over him, the more his nips at his temple and his ear and his neck, the more Max tucks Charles into his body, the harder it is for him to think, the harder it is for him to try to string together that question that Max wants, so that he can get what he wants.
And he does want.
He wants, and wants, and wants, and wants.
And Charles always gets what he wants.
Eventually.
Song after song, they remain in standstill while being anything but. Max keeps Charles close as the omega tries his best to entice the alpha into pushing him down right then and there, taking him on the dance floor.
It wouldn’t be the safest thing in the world, but Max could protect him. Max is strong. He’s got broad shoulders.
Charles is facing him now, he’s been looking at Max for the last three songs. Which hasn’t been helping.
“Kiss me,” he breathes.
Max chuckles. “Not a question, but sure.”
And then they are making out.
One hand in his hair, tilting his head just right. One arm wrapped around his waist, crushing him into Max.
Charles wishes that Max would lower that other hand just a bit so that it lands on his ass.
“Please,” he begs when Max pulls away to breathe.
“Please what?”
“Please fuck me. I’ll be so good for you.”
Max rumbles.
“Please,” he begs again, pressing himself as far into Max’s chest as he can get.
“Yours or mine?”
Bingo.
Charles always gets what he wants.
“Mine. Have a nest.”
And for the first time tonight, Max sounds like the one with mush brain. “You want me to fuck you in your nest?”
Charles meets his eyes. “Please.”
“Fuck, this skirt,” Max groans, fisting the fabric as he shoves Charles’ back into the wall, and allowing the front door to slam behind them. “It’s killing me. I don’t know if I want to take it off you, or fuck you in it. Would you let me fuck you in this skirt?” he asks between kisses.
“I’d let you do anything.”
Max’s teeth scrape his bottom lip. “Dangerous words,” he cautions, pulling away.
Charles follows. “Anything.”
Max laughs. “Where’s your sense of self-preservation, Charlie?”
“Don’t need it,” Charles whispers. “You’d never hurt me.”
Max shudders.
Charles watches as his eyes darken.
This is going to be fun.
“Would you?”
Max growls. “No.”
Charles grins.
Then he’s gasping.
“Fuck. Max.”
“You said anything,” Max reminds him, cupping him beneath his skirt. “Your panties are wet.”
“I know.” Charles shudders when Max’s thumb finds his clit. “I’ve been leaking all night.”
Max starts making little circles. “Is that what I’ve been smelling?”
Charles moans.
“You know, if you’d asked earlier I could have done something about it sooner,” Max coos, boxing him further into the wall.
Charles’ whines.
His whole body feels like mush now, not just his brain.
He arches his back, but Max is keeping him pinned with his body.
And his broad, broad shoulders.
Charles digs his nails into them.
Max growls, but that only makes Charles dig in deeper.
“Nest, Max. Please.”
“Of course.”
And then Charles is being hauled off of the wall.
Max is carrying him.
Max is also finally gripping Charles’ ass.
He hears the click of his front door lock, and then they’re moving.
Max is carrying him.
“Where’s your nest, hmm? Which of these rooms?”
“Furthest down the hallway, on your left.”
Max squeezes his ass in thanks, and Charles can feel himself melting.
It’s nice to have someone appreciate his ass. He’s worked hard on it.
He lands in the middle of his nest with a oomf.
“Fuck. Look at you.”
Charles smiles. He sits up a little straighter.
“So pretty.”
Charles spreads his legs.
As much as he likes Max standing over him, looking at him; he would much rather have Max in his nest.
“Please alpha.”
“What’s my name?”
“Max.”
“Use it.”
“Yes Max.”
He bares his throat.
He needs Max to get in his nest.
“Good boy.”
Charles whimpers.
And finally—finally—Max is entering his nest. Max is crawling on top of Charles. Max is helping Charles out of his panties with one hand, and the other holds his weight above Charles.
Max brings his hand back to Charles’ pussy. He cups it gently, and leans down to give Charles one of the sweetest kisses he’s ever received.
“Fuck.” Max grinds his hips into Charles’ thighs. “Been dreaming about this.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Max captures his mouth into another kiss.
“Max,” Charles whines. “Clothes. Off.”
Max pauses. “You’re so right.”
In record time, Charles is down to nothing but his skirt, and Max is down to nothing at all.
Max has the biggest cock Charles has ever seen in his life.
And he’s seen cock.
He whimpers.
His mouth waters.
“Charles?” Max asks.
He looks meek, and tentative.
“I know it’s big. It’s okay if it’s too big. I am happy to just fuck your thig–”
Charles lunges for Max with a growl.
He knocks Max onto his back in the nest, sits with his dripping pussy directly on top of Max’s cock, and pins the other man’s wrists down.
“Fuck,” Charles breathes.
He grinds down.
He whimpers again.
He keeps moving.
Max’s cock feels so good. So deliciously huge. He wants it in his mouth. He wants it in his pussy. Hell, Max can take him in the ass if he’d like. He just wants to be filled.
He wants, and wants, and wants, and wants.
And Charles always gets what he wants.
He swivels his hips, trying to get Max’s cock to catch his entrance.
Then he can push down and–
“Okay. Okay. I get it.” Max rolls them so that he’s on top. “Stop trying to grind your way onto my cock, you’re going to hurt yourself.”
Charles starts to protest, but Max kisses him silent.
The hand cupping his cunt also helped shut him up.
Fuck. Max’s hand should be there always. So much better than when it is holding him by the waist.
“Holy fuck, Charles. You’re already so wet, and you’re still slicking up more.”
Charles bares his throat again.
Maybe this time Max will put his mouth there.
Probably not.
“You’re going to fucking kill me tonight, I think.”
“No,” Charles whines, bucking into Max’s hand. “No dying before you fuck me. Please.”
“I won’t. Promise.”
Charles grins.
“I’m going to eat you out first, I think. Make you cum. Get you nice and loose for me. How does that sound?”
“Good.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Max dives down into his pussy, and Charles is not prepared.
He’s not prepared for the way Max eats it like it’s his last meal.
He’s not prepared for the way Max tongues at his clit until he cums before even thinking about dipping down to his slit.
He’s not prepared for the way Max seems to be savouring the taste of his slick, or something.
He’s not prepared for the way Max is able to create such a strong force of suction that he’s coming again.
He’s not prepared for the way Max manages to get so deep with his tongue.
He’s not prepared for the way Max fucks him through his third orgasm.
He’s not prepared for the way his fucking skirt blocks his view.
Charles is shaking, and thrashing, and moaning, and whimpering by the time Max slips a singer finger instead of him.
“Max!”
“So good, Charlie. So good for me. You’re doing so well. You’re so pretty when you cum, you know that?”
Charles nods.
Max gets a second finger inside of him.
He comes up to hover over Charles.
“You’re so tight, still.”
Charles whimpers, looking at Max through half-lidded eyes.
“You’re going to feel so good wrapped around me. You know that?”
Charles melts into his mattress.
“Words, Charles.”
“I’ll be good.”
“Yeah, you will.”
Charles hums happily when Max starts kissing him again.
He doesn’t notice that Max has started finger fucking him until he’s already cumming.
For a fourth time.
In a single night.
Without a cock inside him.
“I want–”
“I know what you want,” Max shushes, petting him through his aftershocks. “One more. One more for me, and then you can have my cock. I don’t want to hurt you, okay?”
Charles curls his arms around Max’s shoulders. “Okay.” His broad, broad, broad shoulders.
Charles is a bit of a size queen. He can admit that to himself when he’s got a big cock splitting him open.
Fuck.
Those omegas in the bathroom haven’t been lying.
He’s never been this full before.
This open.
This spread out.
He can actually feel the stretch in his thighs as he sits nestled in Max’s lap.
Max who is sitting propped up against the wall of his nest with his knees bent behind Charles’ back so he’s still caged in. Max who is somehow still looming over him, despite the fact that they are the same height.
Maybe that’s just Charles’ brain playing tricks on him
He can’t trust it.
Not when he can’t think like this.
When gravity is helping Charles get Max all of the way inside him.
It’s so big.
Fuck.
Charles looks down, only to find his view blocked by his skirt.
Which Max still hasn’t taken off of him yet.
He whines. He wants to see.
“Shh, shh,” Max whispers, using his thumbs to pet Charles’ sides. “You’re doing so good for me. I know it’s big. You’re going so good. Just relax a little. I’m sorry if it hurts.”
Charles is relaxed. Charles is so relaxed.
Max feels so good inside of him. He doesn’t understand why it sounds like Max is apologising for being big.
It’s perfect.
Charles feels perfect.
Charles has got the perfect cock inside of him.
It’s long. It’s thick.
Charles can’t believe that Max is big in both ways.
He melts into the junction between Max’s neck and shoulder. He laps at the skin there.
Max rumbles.
And Charles feels it in his bones.
He moans.
He wants, and wants, and wants, and wants.
And Charles always gets what he wants.
He starts grinding his hips in tight little circles.
Max’s fingers dig into his hips. “Yeah? You’re good?”
“So good.”
Max pressed a kiss into his temple. “Think you can bounce for me?”
Honestly? Charles doesn’t think he can move more than he already is.
Plus, bouncing would mean taking Max's perfect cock out of him, and Charles can’t have that.
“No.” He rolls his hips again.
“Okay, fine,” Max laughs. “You wanted to be on top, but you also want me to do all of the work, I see how it is.”
And then Charles is being picked up.
Charles whines: sharp and loud.
Max’s hands tighten, holding him frozen in place.
“Charles? What’s wrong? Does something hurt? I’m sorry, Charlie. Did you need more time to adjust? I thought you were good?”
“I was!”
“What’s wrong?”
“You’re leaving me. Don’t want you to leave. Want you to stay inside me. You should stay inside me forever,” he babbles. “Max, please.” He tights his thighs around Max’s hips. “Come back.”
Max drops him.
Charles moans.
Fuck that felt good.
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”
“Fuck.” Max’s hands come up to cup his face, and then they are kissing again. “Fuck, you are trying to kill me. Is that it? You want me to just sit inside you all night. Fuck, Charlie, that’s a little bit cruel.” Max kisses any attempt of his protestations away. “You’re just going to make me sit here, inside of your perfect pretty little pussy unknotted?”
Charles blinks.
Unknotted.
Charles looks down.
He grinds once.
Max swears at him again.
He can’t feel a knot.
“You get bigger?” he asks, looking up at Max through his eyelashes.
“Yeah.”
Charles lights up.
There’s still more?
Big, long, thick, perfect Max Verstappen’s cock gets more?
If Charles can have more, then he wants more.
He wants, and wants, and wants, and wants.
And Charles always gets what he wants.
Charles musters up the strength to start bouncing.
Max yelps. “I thought you couldn’t?”
“Want your knot.”
Charles braces his hands on Max’s broad, broad, broad, broad shoulders.
“Gonna make you knot.”
“Fuck. There you go, Charlie. Just needed some incentive, yeah?” Max’s hands fall to his hips again, helping him to stay stable. Max bucks his hips up into Charles’ downthrusts. “Fuck, you’re so good for me.”
Charles purrs.
“Yeah you are. And you’re going to cum for me again aren’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Two more times?”
“Two?”
“Mmmmm, three actually.”
“Three?”
“You’re going to cum three more times for me Charlie,” Max decides. “Once before I knot, I just need to make sure that you’re loose enough, okay? Then you’re going to cum when I knot, because I don’t think you’ll be able to help yourself. And then I want you to cum around my knot. Think you can do that for me, Charlie?”
He can certainly try.
Charles cries out when Max shifts the angle so that he’s now properly pounding in Charles’ sweet spot.
He can’t breathe.
“Can you be good for me?”
Charles cums.
“Fuck. Fuck! Good boy. Good–you are strangling me. Fuck.”
Max brings his arms around Charles’ entire back, and chushes him to his chest. He keeps moving.
“So good, Charlie. There you go. Just keep cumming for me. So good. Fuck. I’m going to knot. Are you ready?”
Charles thinks he nods.
“Words.”
“Yes Max.”
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Charles has never felt so full in his life.
This is even better.
How did it get better?
Charles thinks he’s cuming again.
Charles can’t feel his toes anymore.
Charles hasn’t been able to think since the club, but he’s pretty sure that his mind is just blank now.
He can feel the pressure of Max’s knot inside of him.
He can feel the kisses being peppered on his face.
He can feel the warmth of the lap below him,
He can feel the arm wrapped around his waist holding him upright.
He can feel the fingers playing with his clit.
“Max,” he moans.
“One more. One more for me, Charles. Please? Please? I want to feel you cum around my knot. I don’t think you can get any tighter, but I want to know. Please? Just one more. I’ll get you there. I’ve got you. Have you got one more orgasm in you?”
“You’re so big,” is all Charles can think to say, even though he knows that’s not the answer to Max’s question.
The answer is yes, by the way, but Charles can’t make himself say it. He’s too busy just feeling.
Feeling Max’s cock inside of him.
Feeling Max’s warmth cocooning him.
Feeling the blankets scrunched up in his toes.
Oh, he can feel his toes again.
Charles can do nothing but feel, and he feels like a creature of want.
Charles knows that he can be the perfect omega who cums and cums and cums and cums again and again and again and again just because his alpha asked him too.
Just because Max asked him too.
Charles wants to be good for Max.
Maybe if he’s good enough, Max will stay forever.
He wants, and wants, and wants, and wants.
And Charles always gets what he wants.
“I’ve got you. I’ve got you. So good for me. Should have done this sooner. Fuck. Good job, Charles. You’re okay. I’m here. I’ve got you. I’m just going to lay us down. Don’t worry, I’ll stay in, keep you plugged. Such a good boy. Fuck, you’re actually going to be the death of me. Good boy. Good job. Did exactly what I wanted you to do.”