{Kay Flock} stall

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The Bronx, Sevside

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The Bronx, Sevside.


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I don't know what it was about alcohol running through Kay's system that always made him so clingy

Not like it wasn't wanted.

 I loved when he would be wrapped up in me, his lips against my skin, but it was a bit inconvenient when the party was for him. 

It was another release party, Kevin's writing and producing a single that he just gave out to the rest of the world and his beloved fans.

 There's not a care in the world tonight, everyone smiling and dancing, drinking and doing whatever drug pleased them.

 Kay's eyes can't leave my frame as I mingle, trying to be my job as the well-behaved girlfriend, making small talk with people in his industry.

.

.

.

But the look in his eyes gave it away that he has a completely different plan for him and me tonight.

I giggle loudly as he links his fingers with mine, pulling me into a bathroom and against the door without hesitation. This isn't even his house, a friend of his throwing him this party as a celebration so I did find it a bit odd that he wanted to slip away to get lost in me.

But I would never complain.

"Kay, it's your party, shouldn't we go and talk some mor-"

"Shut up ma cmere." He mutters against my lips, moaning. our kiss is messy and heated as his hand grips my waist. 

"I wanna fuck you." He mumbles, his lips trailing down my cheek and to my jaw, my absolute weakness and he's well aware. 

I'm a whimpering mess in his grasp, my knees wobbling a bit as his fingers dance under my dress. 

"Wanna feel you." 

My head falls back against the door as I whine, his fingers teasing the inside of my thighs as he nudges them apart. 

At a moment's notice, my chest is pressed against the cold tile counter, my eyes meeting Kay's as he stands behind me.

 His hands massage my hips gently as he bunches my dress up, my eyes fluttering shut as I try to catch my breath. The sound of his zipper on his jeans makes my thighs clench, knowing that he would be filling me up soon.

He slips into me with a groan, his fingers weaving through my hair to pull my head back to look at him. His pupils are blown, from lust and weed, 

 His pupils are blown, from lust and weed, 

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