Home Studio
ft. Dua Lipa
Tags: cons, m/f, spooning, creampie, edging, dua lipa
*This story is entirely fictional and did not happen in real life or between any real people. Characters are consenting adults and this is written for 18+ adults only. The fictional writing is mine, the photos are not. Do not repost without permission.*
☆ Los Angeles ☆“Appreciate you giving it a look and listen,” Dua said, standing over her friend’s while he sat in front of his equipment. Patrick’s recording studio was nice, equipped with anything and everything a recording artist could need. The funny part was that it was all one large room with his massive bed at the opposite end. Next to that was his collection of vinyl and CDs and a cherry red wood armoire taller than Dua.
If the record label would let her, she’d record there. The quaint studio and Patrick’s company would chase away any flickering nerves she had when about recording her next album.
“Not ready to turn it over for scrutiny?” Patrick looked back at her, smirking.
Dua winced. He was spot on. “Kind of feels like throwing it to wolves—seeing what they’ll chew up and spit back up at me.”
Patrick had a heavy set of headphones sitting around his neck. He lifted them up and placed them over his ears. “What are you going to do while I work on this? It’ll take a few listens, then I’ll throw in some mixing. You know that isn’t a quick process.”
She pressed her hands on his shoulders to give the tense muscles a light massage. “I’m grateful for you,
always.”
He seemed to enjoy her touch and stretched his neck to one side as she pressed against his soft T-shirt. “I wasn’t insinuating you weren’t grateful. Just want to make sure that pretty mind stays busy is all.”
Dua pointed at her bag in the open area of the studio by the bed. “I’ve got plenty more writing to do. Clock is ticking.”
Patrick looked back at her again and winked, giving her a little salute. “Clock is ticking.” He nudged his nose in the direction of his bed. “Make yourself comfortable.”
He shifted his attention back to the equipment in front of him and Dua watched him start the song from his laptop. The recording was rough—a voice memo recorded on her phone, her not entirely warmed up, and a slight echo was there from the empty room she’d been in. But Patrick was the perfect person to lend her a listen. She trusted him. They’d met years ago through the industry, only he was working with indie artists most of the time and was locked into a life in Los Angeles.
Rarely did their physical paths cross. But Dua wouldn’t deny he ran laps through her mind when the loneliness struck. A crush she never would've admitted to prior.
Dua sprawled across Patrick’s bed, flat on her stomach with her journal propped up in front of her. Her pen moved, jotting down ideas for a chorus. Yet, none of them clicked right away. Patrick stayed focused on the work in front of him, until he finally glanced her way a few times in a row.
She popped the cap of her pen in her mouth and gave her friend a playful look. She’d never come on to Patrick before, but something about this setting was different for them. She was in his personal space, and they were all alone.
When she heard Patrick stand from the desk, she didn’t look up. She continued to write loops of rhyming words to match the melody popping around her brain. His weight sank down on the bed next to her and Dua felt the heat of his gaze taking her in.
Patrick placed a heavy hand on her hip and Dua took a deep breath, trying to stay focused on her task but silently wishing her friend would continue touching her. A smile took over her lips.
He squeezed her hip, then guided his hands up her back and rubbed at her shoulders.
“Feels nice,” Dua finally said and turned on her side, her back to him. She capped her pen.
Patrick grunted. “Keep working.”
Dua hesitated, giving him a grin over her shoulder and continuing to write in her journal. Patrick’s lips stamped her neck as he curled behind her, spooning her as she lay on her side. His hands strummed the length of her body and focusing on her journal was proving to be more difficult.
“I can take a break,” she said, glancing over her shoulder again. She couldn’t help herself from looking directly at his mouth.
“I don’t want you to,” he replied.
His warm lips found her neck, and he sucked the tender skin between his teeth. Every touch lit her up inside, an uncontrolled burn. Warmth and chills battled throughout her body, dizzying her with desire.
Patrick pressed himself against the curve of her ass. Feeling how hard he was for her was more than enough for Dua. She’d happily toss her journal and pen to the floor, give in to the temptation, and deal with the rest later. Each touch from him already left her so wet.
“Patrick, let me kiss you,” she said, attempting to fold over the open pages of the book.
He dodged her lips. “You said it yourself. Clock is ticking.”
She could hardly believe he was using her words against her. That telling him she wanted to kiss him wasn't enough. Dua also couldn’t quite understand what he was getting at with all of this touching. He wanted to turn her on, for nothing? Tease her into oblivion?
His hands ran up and down the outside of her leg before he pulled her skirt up high. The bottom hem rested at her hip bone. He took a handful of her smooth, round ass.
“This okay?” he murmured against her, sucking her earlobe while waiting for an answer.
Dua moaned, his touch felt so good on her. She wanted to give him her undivided attention. “Yes,” she breathed.
Letting him feel all over her body created waves of desire, crashing over her and making her panties grow wetter with each passing minute beneath his rubs and strokes. Part of it was knowing how much she’d turned him on, too. He made it clear every time he drove his hard cock against her ass. Dua wished he’d free himself, let her touch and suck his length.
Patrick raised her leg and found a way into the bottom of her thong. He pulled it to the side and groaned as he swiped through her slick.
“Fucking soaked,” he muttered and slid a finger inside of her.
Dua moaned with him and let her eyes fall as he pumped a finger in and out of her, curling it so it grazed all of the right spots.
Patrick regained his composure. “Keep writing,” he said, voice firm.
Dua’s reverie diminished as she tried to garner enough focus to look at her writing on the pages.
He held his finger inside of her, his chest still against her back. “Go on, you have a deadline.”
She felt a little frustrated he was using her words against her in this way. She had time for a fun way to blow off some steam.
“Patrick—If this is happening—the writing can wait.”
He shushed her.
Her sweet friend shushed her. “I want to give you my cock, but only if you keep writing down ideas from that beautiful mind of yours.”
His dirty words swirled around her head. Not being able to directly look at him only teased her more. She opened the book and wrote—anything that came to mind. Rhymes, her favorite words, words that were hard to rhyme, words and lines she hated. Anything to keep the pen moving.
Patrick helped himself to more touching and rubbing and teasing. Finally, the unmistakable sound of his zipper coming undone made Dua’s heartbeat thump even harder.
He moved around behind her as he slid down his jeans, then worked her panties down past her knees. He spooned her and let his cock slip and slide against her pussy from behind. “Is it what you want?”
Dua said yes, trying to hide any frustration she felt about having the journal in front of her still.
“Good,” he sighed, his breath trailing down her neck and making her nipples harden in her bra. “Don’t you lose focus on your words. You’re too good to let a little distraction get in your way.”
Patrick slid entered her slowly, and Dua’s inner walls stretched to accommodate his cock. She gasped when he thrust into her, filling her entirely.
“Pen and paper, love,” he said.
Dua gritted her teeth and forced her eyes open.
He was the winner of this game. Patrick drove her mad with his demands. Dua desperately wanted to roll over onto her back and stare into her friend's eyes as he fucked her. She wanted to kiss him and claw him and wrap her long legs around his hips.
“Ooooh,” she moaned. He took his time sliding in and out of her, keeping a slow pace and letting her feel all of his length. Her hand trembled as she tried to write, it was almost too difficult with how well he worked in and out of her.
“That’s it,” he whispered. His words and slow thrusts were enough inspiration to keep the pen going, even if it made no sense. One day she’d look back at the pages and giggle.
Finally, gripping the inside of her thigh, Patrick hiked her leg up higher to grant himself better access. He gained rhythm, fucking her from behind hard and fast while she lay on her side. The jostling made it difficult for Dua to read what she wrote down but she didn’t care. Most of it was incoherent babblings she thought up just to keep the pen moving, which was what her friend wanted of her.
“Fuck, Dua,” his voice grew strained. Every thrust brought her that much closer to climax. All her unmet desires towards Patrick seemed to make her more sensitive.
Her moans grew louder, and she breathed through them while somehow managing to move her pen again. "You feel so good, please don't stop. Fuck!"
“You’re doing so well. Just keep letting me fuck you. Keep focusing on your work.” Patrick’s fingers dug into her hip as he thrust harder. Something about not being able to look at him also got Dua closer to the edge.
Dua’s inner thighs started to quiver. “What if I—I’m gonna—” Dua’s eyes scrunched closed as her inner walls spasmed around his length. She couldn’t go back and stop it from happening. All the slow fucking built her up to this point.
“Oh, not yet Dua. You aren’t finished with your work.” Patrick’s voice took on a firm tone that turned her on even more. He slowed his thrusts. “I can feel your pussy getting ahead of your writing.”
Dua pressed her knees together as if that could slow the feeling overcoming her but that made him raise her leg again, squeezing her tightly. She glanced over her shoulder to look at Patrick, she wanted so badly to kiss him and turn this into what she knew as making love—or fucking, if that’s what they wanted to call it.
Yet he had this game up his sleeve that he wasn’t letting up on. That the little voice in the back of Dua’s mind enjoyed it his control.
“I won’t yet.” She swallowed hard and picked up the journal again, flipping to a new blank page. She played into the game and somehow tamed the growing buzz in her core. She combed through her mind, rewriting the pre-chorus to the song she’d had memorized far.
“Good, yes,” Patrick said. He slapped her ass and delivered heavier thrusts to her, deepening himself and biting her neck.
The more she focused on the work in front of her the better he fucked her. It was undeniable now.
“Patrick?” Dua slumped forward again, trying to keep her eyes on her book. “I’ve thought about this before, made myself come to the thought of you—” she drew in a breath. “You fucking me.”
“Mmmm, is it satisfying you the way you thought?” His strong arm anchored her waist first, then ventured past her raised skirt. It settled on the front of her where he delivered quick circles against her swollen clit.
Dua’s body lurched in response then folded forward beneath the pressure. The combination of the thrusts of his cock and his dancing fingertips left her with few options other than to succumb to the climbing pleasure.
“Yes, fuck! Patrick, oh my god!”
“You like it like this?” he asked again, almost ignoring her pleas.
She caught her breath again. “It’s different but I like it.” Her inner walls pulsed and Dua was coming before she could even ask. “Can I come, please, Patrick? It’s just s-so good!”
He snickered against the back of her neck. “Come, Dua. Come all over my cock just the way you’ve been wanting to.”
Dua let the journal and pen fall from her hands. She couldn’t help herself from grabbing for her friend and digging her nails into his thigh. Aside from her moans, all that could be heard was her ass clapping against his legs.
His permission sealed Dua’s fate and the twisting knot in her stomach unraveled. His fingers and cock pulled every bit of tension from her while her eyes rolled back. Everything turned white, maybe her heart skipped a beat. Dua couldn’t be sure. But Patrick kept his movements going. He’d worked hard to make her come—building her up and bringing her down and ensuring her body crumbled in the best way possible.
Dua didn’t realize how loud she was until her mind began to settle again. Her body shook and a new heat radiated out from her. Suddenly, she could feel her own wetness even more.
“So fucking good,” Patrick said, fucking her hard while he held her tightly against him. His cock pulsed inside of her, and the way he grunted was nothing like anything she’d heard from her friend before.
He grabbed the base of his cock, but Dua reached back and coiled her hand around his forearm. “Don’t. Don't pull out.”
Patrick’s jaw twitched and all it took was one more deep thrust for Dua to feel his release. He filled her pussy, grunting while he sank his teeth into her ear then neck.
“Fucking hell,” he said, grabbing her ass so hard his fingernails left marks. As he pulled out of her, Dua felt his cum running out of her pussy and onto her leg. Her sensitive clit continued to pulse.
Patrick leaned down to kiss her. It was sloppy and rushed, both of them struggling to catch their breath. Dua still lay on her side, smiling to herself.
Her friend slid on his pants while Dua watched him carefully. She still wanted more.
How was that possible? Patrick’s eyes were focused on the spot next to her where the journal was. “Go on, read it to me.”
Dua’s brow furrowed. “Read what?” She hardly played dumb, but if she ever would, it would be this moment.
He smirked and rounded the corner of the bed to get closer to her. His arm reached down and grazed her pussy with one finger to feel his cum. Dua gasped as he slid the finger inside of her again.
Patrick chuckled at her response. “Tell me all the chart topping lyrics you got out while I fucked you.”
Dua bit her bottom lip, giving him a sexy stare as she picked up the book. She couldn’t help herself from laughing at what she was about to read him.
“Get ready, you’ll love them all.”
Topic: Home Studio (Dua Lipa) (Read 17046 times)