Miss Tilapornputt

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POV: Jes

A rumble in the garage woke Jes up. Not that he'd really been asleep—more like lying dramatically in bed, staring at the ceiling like a Victorian widow waiting for her sailor husband to return from sea. Except the sailor was Bible. And instead of the ocean, he'd disappeared into a night out with Mio and JJay. Dangerous waters indeed.

Jes sighed, tossed off the covers like it was some grand farewell, threw on his black silk robe, and slipped into his slippers. His hair? Chaotic. Like a bird had tried to nest in it and gave up halfway.

He shuffled toward the garage, grumbling to himself, when he heard voices.

"We should let him crash at our place. If Jes sees him like this—"

That was JJay. And that sentence did not sound like something Jes wanted to hear at 3 AM.

He pushed the door open.

And immediately regretted all his life choices.

There, half-on the motorbike and half-slung across JJay's back like a limp handbag, was Bible. Or...someone who looked like Bible. Maybe. If Bible had suddenly decided to cosplay as a drunk 1950s prom queen.

He wore a dark brown wig. Rosy cheeks. Winged eyeliner. And a vintage pink dress with puff sleeves and a rose on the chest. His thighs peeked out just slightly from beneath the hem, and the cinched waist was criminally flattering.

Jes blinked once. Twice. Still there.

"What. The. Actual—"

"Hubbyyyyy~ I'm home!" Bible chirped, arms flung open like he was reenacting a telenovela scene. Then he tilted sideways, almost face-planting, before JJay heroically caught him—right around the waist. Right on that cursed snatched spot where the dress hugged a little too well.

Jes's eye twitched.

Mio and JJay stared at him like deer in headlights. Jes took a breath. And then another.

"Out," he said, voice calm in that terrifying way. Mio and JJay scrambled so fast they left skid marks.

Bible blinked up at him. "Didn't I look preeetty? I did this for you."

Jes scooped him off the bike like a bridal rescue. "You did this to give me a heart attack."

"I wanted to be sexy again..."

Jes muttered, "You think I forgot how hot you are?"

Bible leaning into his chest. "You didn't look at me like you used to."

Jes sighed, carrying him back inside. "Then let me remind you."

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Inside the bedroom, Jes let Bible sink into the mattress like a dropped doll. He stayed one step away—close enough to pounce, far enough to torture.

His hand rested thoughtfully at his jaw, robe lazily parted to reveal the cut of his chest, catching the low, golden light like a damn sculpture. Bible stared.

Then gulped.

"You look hot. And I look like an idiot," he muttered, fidgeting with the hem of his ridiculous pink dress.

Jes tilted his head, squinting at him in silence.

"Don't stare me to death. I'll shower—let's just forget this happened." Bible moved to stand—

But Jes caught his wrist. Firm. Unmoving.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, low and dark, voice like velvet dipped in warning.

Bible froze. "T-To the bathroom," he whispered, wide-eyed.

Jes's gaze dropped.

Bible was hard.

Very.

It pressed bold and unmistakable through the soft fabric of the dress, a flush of pink satin betraying everything he claimed to want to hide.

Jes turned Bible's face to him, fingers gentle beneath his jaw. Bible's lashes fluttered, unsure whether to melt or flee.

Jes leaned in and captured his lips—wet, parted, tasting of cheap gloss and too many secrets. He kissed him slow at first, then sucked on his lower lip with intent, biting just enough to make Bible flinch.

"Ow! Are you a dog?!" Bible hissed, glaring.

Jes only smirked, unbothered, as his hands slid lower—down the small of Bible's back, over the curve of his ass. The back of the dress was almost scandalous, each tiny button begging to be undone. He couldn't help himself—he gave one perfect cheek a firm squeeze, his hands greedy and unapologetic.

"Fits you like a sin," Jes murmured, pulling him closer. He dipped to Bible's neck, inhaling deeply. "Mmm. You went all in, didn't you? Even smell like a rose."

The whisper against Bible's skin made him shiver; goosebumps bloomed under Jes's breath.

Jes's hands slipped downward, over the silky dress, fingers pressing into the bare skin revealed by the high slit. He nudged Bible back onto the bed, following him down, eyes dark with hunger. One hand slid beneath the dress to part his legs—exposing smooth, trembling skin as Jes lowered his mouth and began kissing up the inside of his thigh.

Bible trembled harder, breath hitching.

"W-What are you—"

But the words died.

Jes didn't answer. His mouth was already there—finding heat, finding need. He took him in slowly, almost reverently, like he had all the time in the world and planned to worship every second of it.

"Ah—!"

Bible's whole body arched with a startled gasp. His Adam's apple bobbed hard, and his fingers clutched Jes's shoulders, nails raking down bare skin. Jes's robe slipped from his frame.

Jes didn't stop. If anything, Bible's reactions only made him bolder—hungrier. Every tremble, every broken breath, every whispered protest that wasn't truly a protest, fueled him.

He knew Bible's limits. Knew how easily he melted. Jes could already picture it—if he pulled those last pieces of fabric down and took him right now, deep and without warning, Bible would gasp, maybe whimper, but he wouldn't stop him.

The weight of Bible's desire pulsed against his tongue. Hot. Smooth. Heavy. Jes moved with precision—his mouth wrapped around him fully, lips gliding, throat working. He hollowed his cheeks and let his tongue swirl, teasing him slow, then deep.

Bible was unraveling. His fingers clenched the sheets, back arching against the bed. He was surrounded—by Jes's warmth, his strength, the low rumble of pleasure humming in his throat.

The sight of him—his pink dress bunched up, thighs bare, lashes fluttering—was almost unreal. Jes, his husband, looked like something out of a fantasy. A fantasy that belonged to no one but him.

Bible's thoughts were spiraling. Jes, with his broad chest, that annoyingly perfect face, and the kind of confidence that came from a heavy wallet and heavier hands. God, how many women probably dreamed of him like this? Between their legs, focused, devoted, hungry.

The image tipped him over the edge.

His breath hitched, his body tensed, and—

Jes held him through it, never pulling away. Just letting Bible ride it out, trembling, overstimulated, overwhelmed, loved.

When it was over, Bible collapsed into the bed like a ragdoll, chest heaving.

Jes wiped his mouth slowly and leaned up, smirking. "Still want that shower?"

Bible blinked, dazed. "I... forgot what a shower is."

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Most men turned into beasts in the face of lust. But when they were with someone they loved, they became beasts drunk on desire—like they'd swallowed aphrodisiacs and lost all control.

Jes grabbed Bible's hand and pinned it down against the bed. With one sharp tug, he tore the last of Bible's clothes apart—the soft fabric of the dress splitting with a rip, falling away in two pieces. The moment their bare skin touched, both of them gasped, voices trembling with need.

Jes's body was straining, painfully hard, his thick length flushed and glistening with slick arousal. The sight of it, the scent, the heat—it was overwhelming. He pressed against Bible's lower abdomen, smearing that intoxicating liquid across his skin, making it wet and sticky and feverishly hot.

Jes was trembling at the edge of losing himself, his swollen cock aching to push in, to bury itself deep. His muscles flexed, his mouth crashed down in a fierce kiss, and he rubbed against Bible with hungry, mindless desperation.

He wanted to be inside. Needed it.

His heart thundered with raw desire, his instincts roaring. All he craved was to claim—completely, thoroughly. To drive into him, break him open, make him feel it. Make him take all of him. Make him his—entirely, endlessly.

Jes's hands roamed down Bible's trembling legs, his body drawn tight with anticipation. Their tongues tangled in a breathless kiss, hot and hungry, until Jes finally pushed inside him.

The sensation made his mind spiral—raw, tight, overwhelming—and it never failed to drag filthy words from Jes's mouth. Words that made even the boldest blush.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" he murmured against Bible's ear, his voice rough and deep.

Bible gasped, his back arching at the sudden intrusion. Jes hadn't prepared him—just took him, all at once. It felt like he was being split open, stretched around something impossibly thick and full. His entire body trembled with the shock and heat of it.

"I'm going to come so deep in you," Jes growled, his thrusts slow but deliberate, "you'll feel it for days."

Bible's fingers shook as he reached up and pressed his small hands over Jes's mouth, his palms brushing against the roughness of his chin. The feeling of those coarse stubbles sent an unexpected shiver down his spine.

"S-Stop saying things like that," he whispered, voice barely holding together.

But Jes only smirked beneath his touch and licked across his trembling fingers.

"How can I, when my wife dressed like that just for me... just to be fucked senseless?"

His words were wicked, shameless—and Bible didn't even have time to answer before Jes suddenly pulled back and thrust in hard, all the way, stealing his breath again.

Jes's desire for Bible had always burned too hot—so fierce it twisted into obsession. Sometimes he imagined locking Bible away in a room, hidden from the world, where no one could see him, touch him, take him away. Where all Jes would do—day after day—was make love to him. Again. And again. And again.

He wanted to see Bible laid out, vulnerable and flushed, legs parted on crisp sheets as he took him slow and deep. Wanted to press him against the wall and fuck him breathless. Wanted to feel him riding on top, head thrown back, Jes's hands bruising his hips as he thrust upward over and over until they were both shaking.

But what he wanted most... was to never leave Bible's body at all. To stay inside him forever. To see him wrecked, sobbing, speechless from pleasure—so overstimulated his body would tremble with each thrust, releasing again and again until there was nothing left but gasps and tears and Jes's name on his lips.

That would be paradise. The pinnacle of human pleasure.

"Ah—Jes! I can't anymore!" Bible cried out, voice cracking, his sweat-damp wig clinging to his flushed cheeks. "I'm empty! There's nothing left!"

They'd been at it for over an hour—and Jes still hadn't had enough.

"You dressed like this—like a woman—because you wanted me, didn't you?" Jes's voice was low, hoarse, laced with heat and breathlessness. "Don't play innocent. I know you too well. I know exactly what your intentions were. And now that I'm giving you everything you wanted—and more—you're saying you can't take it?"

Bible's cheeks flushed even deeper, eyes gleaming with that familiar bratty spark. "I feel numb down there," he huffed, pouty. "Do something else."

That tone. That expression. That smug tilt of his lips—Jes felt himself throb even harder, already buried deep. Before he could say a word, Bible had pushed him back and moved down, lips parting around Jes's swollen length.

"Ah—" Jes groaned, head tipping back. Bible smiled around him, slow and wicked.

As he worked his mouth over him—up and down, wet and hot—Bible could feel Jes's seed trickling down his thighs. The man had filled him over and over. If Bible were a woman, he would've been pregnant by now. With triplets.

Jes instinctively shut his eyes, overwhelmed by pleasure, but when he opened them again, he reached down, threading his fingers into Bible's wig and yanking it off. Silky black hair tumbled free.

He wanted to see him—all of him.

His large hands, knotted with prominent joints and veins, cradled the back of Bible's head. His powerful chest rose and fell in ragged waves, the muscles flexing as he held himself back—barely.

"Bible..." he whispered.

Tears prickled in the corners of his eyes. He didn't know if it was the intensity, the gratitude, or something deeper. His cock throbbed violently in his lover's mouth, thick and full. It was too big, too much for Bible to truly take, but he still tried—mimicking Jes's earlier movements, tongue swirling, eyes flicking up.

This was his Bible.

His husband.

Bible Wichapas Tilapornputt.

The most beautiful man in the world.

His pale, delicate, almost doll-like lover—who looked like he'd stepped out of a Chinese painting—was doing all this, just for him.

When Jes finally released, it was with a choked cry, his whole body shaking. Tears clung to his lashes as he pulled Bible into his arms and kissed him again and again, unable to stop. He held him close, so tight it was as if he wanted to merge their bodies into one.

His heart ached—full, hot, overwhelmed with love.

"There's no one better than you in this world," Jes whispered, voice trembling. "No one but you could ever touch my heart."

He kissed him again, forehead pressed to Bible's.

"I love you so much."

"I love you too."

THE END-

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POV: Author

Why am I crying? Maybe because this story has come to an end, and I'm not ready to let go just yet.

To all the readers who stayed with me through every chapter—thank you from the bottom of my heart. Writing this story was a wild, emotional, and ridiculously fun ride. I laughed while writing, and knowing that I made you laugh too? That's the best feeling in the world.

As some of you already know, I'm currently working on a book that will be published on Kindle Amazon. I'll keep you posted on the release—who knows, maybe we'll meet again in a brand new story?

Until then, thank you for everything. Big hugs, soft kisses, and all my love, Your NovaSese 🤍

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