Dirty Justin Bieber Smut

37. What Did You Call Me?

By au-biebs on tumblr
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Justin and I decided to hit a club for the first time in forever. Since getting himself back on his feet, he’d not necessarily avoided these hang outs - just found other alternatives to a good night.

Zipping the side of my black dress up, I ran a hand through my long hair and looked myself once over in the mirror. I thought I looked pretty good.

Justin entered the bedroom in a pair of jeans and one of his tees, knowing him, it’d probably come off, anyway. His hair was combed to perfection and the smell of his cologne hit my nose. “Damn, can we just skip to the part where I fuck you senseless?” He asked, his voice low.

Tugging on my bottom lip as I looked at him through the mirror, I shook my head before I made an irrational decision “No, we’re going out.” I announced, grabbing my heels. “Come on, the cars waiting.”

Justin’s hand rested on my thigh as we drove down the streetlamp-lit roads. Usually, it was just a sweet gesture because he always had to be close to me, but I knew this time he had other intentions. Clearing my throat, I moved his hand off of me. Two can play that game.

Arriving at the club, Justin and I were allowed to cue jump and head straight inside. Perks of having an A-lister boyfriend.

The bass hit me immediately, as well as the body heat of hundreds of other people. Reaching the bar, we ordered what we wanted before hitting the floor.

Instantly turning my body around so I could grind against Justin, his hands held my waist, holding me closer against him. “I know what you’re doing.” He said in my ear, smirking, I glanced up at him before responding with, “Good.”

Once Justin and I spotted some of our friends, we went to socialise. Walking with my best friend back onto the dance floor, I told her of my plan and she knew exactly what to do. My other friends has always been a little weird about girl-on-girl dancing, but this one had no cares in the world. Practically repeating the position Justin and I were in, we rocked to the beat.

Locking eyes with Justin, he was watching us intently. Winking at him, I turned around, looking away, and left it at that.

When I spotted Justin next, I had noticed he had removed his shirt, a slight glistening of sweat on his body. I bit my lip as I admired his torso. His arms flexed as inflexed as he danced and brought the bottle to his lips. He knew exactly what to do to get me hot and bothered and boy was he doing it. Feeling my arousal pool in my underwear, I had to look away.

Around an hour into dancing, Justin grabbed me away from my friend, holding me against him so I could feel his arousal in his jeans. “We need to leave.” He growled. I had been somewhat fine until this very second, my skin burned and I felt my legs get weak. Nodding, I waved goodbye to my friend, knowing she’d understand what was about to go on.

Avoiding cameras and rushing me into the car, Justin didn’t even speak to his driver before doing up the divider and laying me down on the back seat. “What do you think you’re playing at? Huh?” He asked, hiking my dress up around my waist and rolling his hips against mine. Craving the friction, I closed my eyes and bucked my hips, leaving him with no response.

“Do you think it’s funny to get me hard in public?”

Finding whatever strength I had (because he always knew how to get me like jello in seconds) I sat up and pushed Justin into his seat, straddling him.

“Did I make daddy angry?” I asked, rubbing myself against him. I watched as Justin’s eyes rolled back before he lifted his hips to meet mine.