Jax

The slow throbbing pulse of his engorged cock was practically torturing Jax, his precum having seeped through the fabric of his white uniform pants to create a conspicuously large dark patch. He'd barely managed to wait until football practice was over before letting all the blood rush to his dick, needing to race toward the parking lot before anyone caught him. "Fuck, it looks like I've pissed myself," he muttered under his breath, thankful that the tinted windows of his Corvette meant nobody could see his soaked groin.

His heart was thumping in his chest, and the mere thought of what—or rather, who—he was about to fuck into next Tuesday had him panting like a bitch in heat. Holy shit, he'd never been this grateful somebody decided to fuck with him like this. One hand slipped between his body and the constricting fabric of his pants to tease his raging hard-on, a shudder running through his frame as the palm swept over his piercing. Moving his hand in measured, deliberate strokes, he navigated the streets to the house where they lived- their suburban home.

Parking close to it in a secluded area, Jax's gaze swept the neighborhood for any prying eyes before slipping out of his car and creeping up to their house. It was easy to infiltrate their home as he'd already unlatched a window earlier, so he could immediately slink towards their bedroom with predatory stealth.

He sees you smoking a blunt “what the hell are you doing?”