[ He's always intense, she came to learn this after her sick stint. Everything demands his attention, and he doesn't do things in halves. Especially in this area.
His hips are a constant push and pull, pistoning into her cunt, and his eyes are focused entirely on her. She can't take her eyes off him either, his mouth wet around her nipple, stiff and puckered. Is he going to drink from her when she lactates? Her walls pulse.
Before she can warn, her back melts down to lay across the table, auburn hair fanning around her and her eyes shut against the onslaught of pleasure. As always, his cock produces the most vulgar of sounds thrusting into her wetness. She's close, the sloppy noises are getting louder and so are her groans. ]
[Nate's hands grip the table either side of her when she clenches around him. He wonders what she's thinking about, he sees her go somewhere else for a moment. He is aware that he's incredibly fixated on her breast, but he is thinking ahead to the way her body will change. All good things. All things he greatly looks forward to.
Aware that she's closing in on an orgasm, his hips angle into her to hit parts of her he knows are sensitive. He's quickly acclimated himself to her sweet spots through persistent and thorough investigation with his mouth, fingers and cock.
Finally his lips leave her breasts, his palms running up her front and squeezing her breasts. Pinching her nipples with each hand, tweaking them a little roughly. He's learned that she likes this too, which he couldn't be happier about.
His hands travel up, grasping and cupping her face and drawing her into a deep, desperate kiss. His hips keep rocking into her, granting no reprieve from their mission here.]
I'm gonna give you everything. [Starting with his cum, but they both know it runs deeper than that.]
Gonna show you what you're made for. What you're good for. [His thrusts punctuate his words, a strange mix of threatening and encouraging.]
Gonna show me how good you are for it, too. Perfect for it. My girl.
[ Her heart leaps to her throat and she nods back at him to let him know she understands. He will show her everything, all of it. She trusts him implicity on this, and everything else.
His voice alone has drawn moisture out of her, but add the fingers on her nipples, his cock driving into her with a new purpose, now that they have talked it out and finalized it, clear-headed and without reservation.
It's dizzying. It's too much.
It's liable to drive her insane.
Their foreheads press against each other. His eyes bear down on her, communicating as much with them as with words. Actions speak as much, if not more; she needs it as much as she needs the things he says to her. Because she does need them -- she's never felt a sense of easy belonging until she sat in his truck and let him take her over.
Francesca can't look anywhere else if she wanted to; she wouldn't if she could. He's mesmerized her. Stamped himself across her heart and every part of her. My girl. ]
Yours. All yours. [ Stumbling agreement, freely given. Her arms latch around his neck, drawing her face into his shoulder. A new sensation, a sense of pressure turning to alarming urgency -- panicking, she scrabbles too late at his arms as it registers.
All the air goes out of the room. She wails, her cunt spasming before releasing a torrent, forcing him out of her. ]
[By this point, Francesca has come so many times for him that he is familiar with both the build-up and the sensation. But that's a new noise-- makes the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. Simultaneously she squeezes possessively around his cock, tighter than she has before, while her muscles are pushing him out.
When he feels the flood of warmth between them, it immediately becomes apparent what she's experiencing. He can practically taste her euphoria, as if through osmosis. His arms wind tightly around her, hips grinding frantically of their own accord-- but she's so wet and her pussy is still contracting. Before he can adjust himself, his hips rock forward and his cock slides between her folds, spilling himself over her wet skin.
His groan is almost plaintive, followed by a frustrated sound, but he doesn't want to belabour it. There'll be many more opportunities-- and this was a first. He hums, hand grasping the back of her head to support it as he crushes his lips against her temple.]
[ After the fact, she squirms, panting like it was laborious work -- and it was. Her body trembles beneath him with the after effects, her fingers clenching and unclenching around his upper arms, trying to get enough air in her lungs to catch her breath.
She gathers he missed his mark, but it feels inconsequential in the moment. Overwhelmed, tears prick her eyes, spilling down her flushed cheeks. Not sad tears -- she's so terribly happy -- she's just taking it all in and her body can't contain the events of the past half hour.
She looks, in a word, wrecked.
Her head tilts up, a desperate maneuver for his mouth to claim and calm. ]
[In the moment, Nate struggles to determine whether the tears are sad or happy. It makes his instincts flare. When she offers her mouth, he catches it and gives her deeply. Like he's breathing life back into her, until he's breathless himself.
He pulls back, pressing a chaste but affectionate kiss to her lips and pressing their forehead together.]
Got plenty more practice time. [He offers, mostly for himself. He yanks his trousers back up without fastening them. His hands shift around, scooping her up bridal style so they can walk back inside. Once they're in the bathroom, he sets her on the countertop so he can set about filling a bath for them.]
[ One of the things she's come to love best about him is the quiet. They don't fill silence for the sake of filling it, for all she adores his voice. Francesca would listen to him read a phone book, but she prizes the easy silence they sit in while he transports her to the bathroom.
From her perch, her eyes attentively track his path across the tiled floor, watching the turn of the faucet nozzles and the water gushing into the tub. He's mostly turned from her, her eyes memorizing his profile, silhouetted by the sun pouring through the window.
[Nate is focused on the task at hand, smiling to himself as he adjusts the temperature. It needs to be perfect for her, obviously.
He almost doesn't hear her over the din of the pouring water. It takes a moment to process it before he snaps his head toward her. He looks surprised, not angry. Bewildered for a moment before he can't smother the lopsided smile twitching at his lips.]
I'm the one on my knees. Shouldn't I be the one asking? [He points out, canting his head to the side and studying her curiously.]
Do you mean it? [He reads her well, so he knows she does. He reaches out for her leg, bringing it toward him and slowly dragging the zip down her boot. The touch is careful and reverent, even if his eyes are fixed intently on her.]
[ Francesca is not one to say things, especially something of such gravity, on a whim. He should know that by now. He does, she's sure.
The tilt of head is mirrored, her face all warmth and resolve. Lets him remove one boot, then the other, without saying a word. She doesn't have to. She doesn't feel nervous at all, strangely, for somebody that can feel such stage fright. ]
Yes. I do.
[ Down to her socks, she pushes herself off the vanity counter and moves to sit beside him, sitting back on her haunches. Her hands wrap around his, meeting his reverence with her own. His knuckles are pulled to her lips, a soft kiss pressed against them. ]
I don't want to wait to start the rest of our lives.
[Nate is silent as she drops down next to him. For once, it's not because nothing needs to be said. There's plenty he feels he needs to say, but the enormity of it all has made his mind completely blank.
In contrast, he is absolutely terrified. He's fucked it up once-- and it was different, he knows it was. And they've talked about his age, they've talked about kids and things just seem so simple. So simple it's suspicious, almost. So easily ruined, he's sure.
But she brushes her lips to his knuckles and his heart flutters, mind whirring back into a functional state. He finally breathes.]
Alright. [Soft, but sure. He takes her other hand, so he can brush his lips over her knuckles.]
[ Her voice is also soft, colored by wonder and a joy she is unsure she's ever felt before this moment. Overwhelmed by love for him, she lets go of his hands to grab his face, leaning over to kiss him with passion. It's an unyielding kiss. She crawls into his lap, dimly aware the wetness she feels on his pants is from her own climax.
When she breaks it, her eyes are starry, her nose scrunching. ]
[Nate briefly startles but quickly melts into the kiss. He suspects he will never get used to the way she grabs him and kisses him. He hopes he never does. The novelty of it thrills him every time.
He takes her face gently, humming into the kiss. His eyes fall shut as he pictures her in a wedding dress.
Smiling already when she pulls back, he has a sly look on his face in response to the question.]
Yeah. Like the deer with the big eyes. Looks like you.
[He brushes his fingers over her cheek, putting an arm on her back to support her as he leans up to stop the tap. Before he pulls them up to get in the bath, he loiters and watches her.]
[ Francesca's eyebrows draw up with a mixture of surprise and doubt. ]
So I'm a deer now? Does that make you the hunter?
[ She sways in his lap, watching him with the same absorption he is showing. She never tires of looking at him, touching him. She's positive this is only the beginning of a life-long addiction.
[He asks it idly, distracted by slipping her top up her body and smoothing his hands over her front. He presses tender kisses to her neck, chuckling against her skin.]
You think? Because the wet spot on my pants is telling me it might be mutually beneficial.
[He brushes his lips up her neck and strips her top off, leaning back.]
[ When she wakes, wet with arousal, the body she's wrapped around is still and his breaths deep. It's an ungodly hour, she's quick to realize. Not a hint of light outside.
He shifts when she gets up for a glass of water and a wee. Laying down again is futile; she doesn't sleep. Lying next to his body only serves to deepen the vicious ache in her cunt. Her thighs rub together.
Daddy had forbidden her from bringing herself to climax without permission. But ... he didn't forbid her from using him as a means to that end.
She tests how deeply he's asleep by snuggling into his side, a leg across his hip, then rubbing her wetness onto his skin. When he doesn't stir, she becomes both wicked and desperate -- reaching a hand down to his cock, her fingers slipping along the ridges, coaxing him to firmness. He has fucked her awake multiple times. She can be forgiven this. Right? ]
[The events of the day have worn Nate out, mind whirring even in deep sleep. He's processing everything through vivid dreams. Typically, he doesn't sleep this pleasantly. Since Francesca arrived in his bed, he's slept comfortably and heavily.
As such, he doesn't stir when she snuggles in and rubs against him. It just adds a pleasant layer to his dream. What does stir is his cock, firming eagerly in her hand. Trained to her touch. He exhales, brows furrowing and cock twitching in her hand, but he's still asleep.
By the time he wakes, there's a much more complicated scene to process. He feels the weight of her on his chest, her lips and hands on his cock. The pleasure he feels is dreamlike, but the sensations are very real. Without giving her any indication that he's woken up, he shifts slowly under her and catches her thighs. His thumbs spread her further apart for him and he leans in, running his tongue up her soft, wet folds.]
[ She's got her lips around the head of his cock, aroused by his hips shifting, straining up to her hot mouth. Her fingers aren't idle, running up and down. Listening to the soft hiss of his breath in sleep.
His pleasure makes hers less important, secondary. And she knows how to please him; he's been a fine teacher in more ways than one. A mentor, if you will.
When he makes his consciousness known, she makes a soft noise of alarm around him. Jerking forward, just slightly, her thighs held by his large hands and not giving. She's so wet, that now that he's exposed the cleft of her cunt, it drools onto his chest.
Francesca whimpers, pressing her hips back, craving more. Dropping his cock, she manages to look over her shoulder. All hunger, in the shaft of moonlight that cuts across her face. ]
[Given infinite jerk off material and creative freedom, Nate could not create a more perfect way to wake up than this. He's woken her up similarly, he expects it of himself. She's beautiful, her body is perfect and she offers herself very willingly. Silly not to indulge. The fact that she also feels inclined to take command of his cock-- the fact that she needs him before he's awake-- it just flat lines him.
He doesn't have anything coherent to say, just a deeply pleased groan that reverberates over her skin. He laps his tongue deep into her, using his hands to encourage her hips to grind. When he eats her, it's like he's savouring and enjoying something delicious. He sucks at her flesh, adding to the mess thanks to the fact that he's drooling past his tongue.
He studies her as she looks over at him, committing the moment to memory. He makes an aching sound, enjoying her face but wanting her lips on his cock again.]
[ She understands. She can read his body by now, his tells both when he's aroused and when he is close to climax.
Francesca goes back to her work. Tongue flat, she licks a stripe up his cock, eating up the line of precum that pearls and spills. Hungrily, sighing her appreciation. Her lips pop the head back into her mouth, sinking down his length. Careful not to use too much teeth.
Her body shakes and grinds from pleasure, moaning around his cock while he eats her out. It's hard to focus on sucking him off when he's lapping inside her cunt, hips rocking back against his face. ]
[Every day, Nate discovers at least one new thing about his girl. Today, aside from deeper revelations, he's learned that she can squirt and that she has a very pretty, pink asshole. He feels deeply perverted, but he is nose to nose with it right now.
He hasn't experimented much with this area. He's still showing her so many other things-- but he's very impressed with her moxy and her talented mouth.
His groans are appreciative, muffled by her cunt. His tongue drags further and further back until it swirls the rim of her asshole. He flicks the tip of it over her hole, increasing the pressure gradually. His thumbs shift deeper, spreading her further apart as he notches himself closer in. Satisfied with this, he drops a hand so he can start to pump two fingers in her pussy.]
[ Fran is none the wiser where this is headed. Until his tongue is flicking the circle of her asshole. She starts in surprise, the sensation unlike anything else they've tried. He's palmed her ass, he's told -- promised -- her mid-fuck that he was going to pound her ass one day, but they haven't done anything along those lines. His vow turned her on in the moment, but she's not thought much on it since.
For all the times she's gotten herself off, she's never put anything in there. It didn't interest her before. It does now, his tongue prodding against her flaring hole. His fingers stuffing themselves in her other.
He's going to make her black out. She has a hazy thought that she may squirt again. The memory of the intense pleasure makes her tremble with anticipation. It would drench his chin, his mouth.
Her efforts on his cock double, her moans swallowed up by it, drooling around his girth. Helps her to swallow him deeper. ]
[He hisses the words over her hole, like speaking is painful. It almost is, his cock is twitching and dying to release in her mouth. He can't. The way her cunt clenches and drips over his fingers means he's on a mission.]
You taste perfect.
[He whispers it over her rim, deliberately warm and breathy. He flattens his tongue over her, rubbing it back and forth in time with the curl of his fingers.]
[ His praise sandwiched in dirty talk undoes her. He has warning this time -- the muscles in her calves and stomach tighten, her toes curl. Unmoored by desire, she half-sobs and half-chokes around his cock, the tip bumping against the back of her throat.
It's not as wet as in the greenhouse, but the curl of his fingers does the trick: a stream that trickles down his fingers, over his wrist. ]
[Nate inhales sharply, feeling her clench in that same way. So tight it nearly pushes him out, but he's ready for it now and he keeps his fingertips pulsing against her wall. Pretty soon she's dripping down his wrist and chin and onto his face.
Lost in it, he withdraws his fingers and clenches his hands around her ass firmly. He holds her backside in place, cleaning her with wide and long strokes of his tongue. She tastes sweet and salty, he's becoming very familiar with her flavour. His hips undulate up into her mouth, fucking her lips gently and slowly.
He's starting to growl and his hips twitch, telltale signs that he's getting close to coming down her throat.]
[ She feels weak from the euphoric pleasure that holds her in its grip for several moments, unable to do much beyond offer her mouth for fucking. The salt of his precum jogs her to act.
The most primal side of her yawns awake. There's only one place he should be coming, and it's not down her throat.
In a deft movement, she pries herself away from his tongue and hands to perch on his stomach, holding his cock to maneuver it between swollen lips. The familiar stretch of taking her lover makes her shudder out a breath of contentment. Her cunt is so well lubricated he just slides right into her, her muscles rippling around him.
Intently, with no hesitation, her hips move, grinding down with every swish. Her head throws back. ]
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sundown2025-04-27 08:43 pm
no subject
His hips are a constant push and pull, pistoning into her cunt, and his eyes are focused entirely on her. She can't take her eyes off him either, his mouth wet around her nipple, stiff and puckered. Is he going to drink from her when she lactates? Her walls pulse.
Before she can warn, her back melts down to lay across the table, auburn hair fanning around her and her eyes shut against the onslaught of pleasure. As always, his cock produces the most vulgar of sounds thrusting into her wetness. She's close, the sloppy noises are getting louder and so are her groans. ]
no subject
Aware that she's closing in on an orgasm, his hips angle into her to hit parts of her he knows are sensitive. He's quickly acclimated himself to her sweet spots through persistent and thorough investigation with his mouth, fingers and cock.
Finally his lips leave her breasts, his palms running up her front and squeezing her breasts. Pinching her nipples with each hand, tweaking them a little roughly. He's learned that she likes this too, which he couldn't be happier about.
His hands travel up, grasping and cupping her face and drawing her into a deep, desperate kiss. His hips keep rocking into her, granting no reprieve from their mission here.]
I'm gonna give you everything. [Starting with his cum, but they both know it runs deeper than that.]
Gonna show you what you're made for. What you're good for. [His thrusts punctuate his words, a strange mix of threatening and encouraging.]
Gonna show me how good you are for it, too. Perfect for it. My girl.
no subject
His voice alone has drawn moisture out of her, but add the fingers on her nipples, his cock driving into her with a new purpose, now that they have talked it out and finalized it, clear-headed and without reservation.
It's dizzying. It's too much.
It's liable to drive her insane.
Their foreheads press against each other. His eyes bear down on her, communicating as much with them as with words. Actions speak as much, if not more; she needs it as much as she needs the things he says to her. Because she does need them -- she's never felt a sense of easy belonging until she sat in his truck and let him take her over.
Francesca can't look anywhere else if she wanted to; she wouldn't if she could. He's mesmerized her. Stamped himself across her heart and every part of her. My girl. ]
Yours. All yours. [ Stumbling agreement, freely given. Her arms latch around his neck, drawing her face into his shoulder. A new sensation, a sense of pressure turning to alarming urgency -- panicking, she scrabbles too late at his arms as it registers.
All the air goes out of the room. She wails, her cunt spasming before releasing a torrent, forcing him out of her. ]
no subject
When he feels the flood of warmth between them, it immediately becomes apparent what she's experiencing. He can practically taste her euphoria, as if through osmosis. His arms wind tightly around her, hips grinding frantically of their own accord-- but she's so wet and her pussy is still contracting. Before he can adjust himself, his hips rock forward and his cock slides between her folds, spilling himself over her wet skin.
His groan is almost plaintive, followed by a frustrated sound, but he doesn't want to belabour it. There'll be many more opportunities-- and this was a first. He hums, hand grasping the back of her head to support it as he crushes his lips against her temple.]
You're incredible.
no subject
She gathers he missed his mark, but it feels inconsequential in the moment. Overwhelmed, tears prick her eyes, spilling down her flushed cheeks. Not sad tears -- she's so terribly happy -- she's just taking it all in and her body can't contain the events of the past half hour.
She looks, in a word, wrecked.
Her head tilts up, a desperate maneuver for his mouth to claim and calm. ]
no subject
He pulls back, pressing a chaste but affectionate kiss to her lips and pressing their forehead together.]
Got plenty more practice time. [He offers, mostly for himself. He yanks his trousers back up without fastening them. His hands shift around, scooping her up bridal style so they can walk back inside. Once they're in the bathroom, he sets her on the countertop so he can set about filling a bath for them.]
no subject
From her perch, her eyes attentively track his path across the tiled floor, watching the turn of the faucet nozzles and the water gushing into the tub. He's mostly turned from her, her eyes memorizing his profile, silhouetted by the sun pouring through the window.
Softly: ]
Marry me.
no subject
He almost doesn't hear her over the din of the pouring water. It takes a moment to process it before he snaps his head toward her. He looks surprised, not angry. Bewildered for a moment before he can't smother the lopsided smile twitching at his lips.]
I'm the one on my knees. Shouldn't I be the one asking? [He points out, canting his head to the side and studying her curiously.]
Do you mean it? [He reads her well, so he knows she does. He reaches out for her leg, bringing it toward him and slowly dragging the zip down her boot. The touch is careful and reverent, even if his eyes are fixed intently on her.]
no subject
The tilt of head is mirrored, her face all warmth and resolve. Lets him remove one boot, then the other, without saying a word. She doesn't have to. She doesn't feel nervous at all, strangely, for somebody that can feel such stage fright. ]
Yes. I do.
[ Down to her socks, she pushes herself off the vanity counter and moves to sit beside him, sitting back on her haunches. Her hands wrap around his, meeting his reverence with her own. His knuckles are pulled to her lips, a soft kiss pressed against them. ]
I don't want to wait to start the rest of our lives.
no subject
In contrast, he is absolutely terrified. He's fucked it up once-- and it was different, he knows it was. And they've talked about his age, they've talked about kids and things just seem so simple. So simple it's suspicious, almost. So easily ruined, he's sure.
But she brushes her lips to his knuckles and his heart flutters, mind whirring back into a functional state. He finally breathes.]
Alright. [Soft, but sure. He takes her other hand, so he can brush his lips over her knuckles.]
Let's get married, Bambi.
no subject
[ Her voice is also soft, colored by wonder and a joy she is unsure she's ever felt before this moment. Overwhelmed by love for him, she lets go of his hands to grab his face, leaning over to kiss him with passion. It's an unyielding kiss. She crawls into his lap, dimly aware the wetness she feels on his pants is from her own climax.
When she breaks it, her eyes are starry, her nose scrunching. ]
Bambi?
no subject
He takes her face gently, humming into the kiss. His eyes fall shut as he pictures her in a wedding dress.
Smiling already when she pulls back, he has a sly look on his face in response to the question.]
Yeah. Like the deer with the big eyes. Looks like you.
[He brushes his fingers over her cheek, putting an arm on her back to support her as he leans up to stop the tap. Before he pulls them up to get in the bath, he loiters and watches her.]
How'd I get this lucky?
no subject
So I'm a deer now? Does that make you the hunter?
[ She sways in his lap, watching him with the same absorption he is showing. She never tires of looking at him, touching him. She's positive this is only the beginning of a life-long addiction.
Playful: ]
Mm. Charity, probably.
no subject
[He asks it idly, distracted by slipping her top up her body and smoothing his hands over her front. He presses tender kisses to her neck, chuckling against her skin.]
You think? Because the wet spot on my pants is telling me it might be mutually beneficial.
[He brushes his lips up her neck and strips her top off, leaning back.]
Get in the bath before it gets cold, little miss.
no subject
He shifts when she gets up for a glass of water and a wee. Laying down again is futile; she doesn't sleep. Lying next to his body only serves to deepen the vicious ache in her cunt. Her thighs rub together.
Daddy had forbidden her from bringing herself to climax without permission. But ... he didn't forbid her from using him as a means to that end.
She tests how deeply he's asleep by snuggling into his side, a leg across his hip, then rubbing her wetness onto his skin. When he doesn't stir, she becomes both wicked and desperate -- reaching a hand down to his cock, her fingers slipping along the ridges, coaxing him to firmness. He has fucked her awake multiple times. She can be forgiven this. Right? ]
no subject
As such, he doesn't stir when she snuggles in and rubs against him. It just adds a pleasant layer to his dream. What does stir is his cock, firming eagerly in her hand. Trained to her touch. He exhales, brows furrowing and cock twitching in her hand, but he's still asleep.
By the time he wakes, there's a much more complicated scene to process. He feels the weight of her on his chest, her lips and hands on his cock. The pleasure he feels is dreamlike, but the sensations are very real. Without giving her any indication that he's woken up, he shifts slowly under her and catches her thighs. His thumbs spread her further apart for him and he leans in, running his tongue up her soft, wet folds.]
no subject
His pleasure makes hers less important, secondary. And she knows how to please him; he's been a fine teacher in more ways than one. A mentor, if you will.
When he makes his consciousness known, she makes a soft noise of alarm around him. Jerking forward, just slightly, her thighs held by his large hands and not giving. She's so wet, that now that he's exposed the cleft of her cunt, it drools onto his chest.
Francesca whimpers, pressing her hips back, craving more. Dropping his cock, she manages to look over her shoulder. All hunger, in the shaft of moonlight that cuts across her face. ]
Woke up like this ... couldn't wait ...
no subject
He doesn't have anything coherent to say, just a deeply pleased groan that reverberates over her skin. He laps his tongue deep into her, using his hands to encourage her hips to grind. When he eats her, it's like he's savouring and enjoying something delicious. He sucks at her flesh, adding to the mess thanks to the fact that he's drooling past his tongue.
He studies her as she looks over at him, committing the moment to memory. He makes an aching sound, enjoying her face but wanting her lips on his cock again.]
no subject
Francesca goes back to her work. Tongue flat, she licks a stripe up his cock, eating up the line of precum that pearls and spills. Hungrily, sighing her appreciation. Her lips pop the head back into her mouth, sinking down his length. Careful not to use too much teeth.
Her body shakes and grinds from pleasure, moaning around his cock while he eats her out. It's hard to focus on sucking him off when he's lapping inside her cunt, hips rocking back against his face. ]
no subject
He hasn't experimented much with this area. He's still showing her so many other things-- but he's very impressed with her moxy and her talented mouth.
His groans are appreciative, muffled by her cunt. His tongue drags further and further back until it swirls the rim of her asshole. He flicks the tip of it over her hole, increasing the pressure gradually. His thumbs shift deeper, spreading her further apart as he notches himself closer in. Satisfied with this, he drops a hand so he can start to pump two fingers in her pussy.]
no subject
For all the times she's gotten herself off, she's never put anything in there. It didn't interest her before. It does now, his tongue prodding against her flaring hole. His fingers stuffing themselves in her other.
He's going to make her black out. She has a hazy thought that she may squirt again. The memory of the intense pleasure makes her tremble with anticipation. It would drench his chin, his mouth.
Her efforts on his cock double, her moans swallowed up by it, drooling around his girth. Helps her to swallow him deeper. ]
no subject
[He hisses the words over her hole, like speaking is painful. It almost is, his cock is twitching and dying to release in her mouth. He can't. The way her cunt clenches and drips over his fingers means he's on a mission.]
You taste perfect.
[He whispers it over her rim, deliberately warm and breathy. He flattens his tongue over her, rubbing it back and forth in time with the curl of his fingers.]
no subject
It's not as wet as in the greenhouse, but the curl of his fingers does the trick: a stream that trickles down his fingers, over his wrist. ]
no subject
Lost in it, he withdraws his fingers and clenches his hands around her ass firmly. He holds her backside in place, cleaning her with wide and long strokes of his tongue. She tastes sweet and salty, he's becoming very familiar with her flavour. His hips undulate up into her mouth, fucking her lips gently and slowly.
He's starting to growl and his hips twitch, telltale signs that he's getting close to coming down her throat.]
no subject
The most primal side of her yawns awake. There's only one place he should be coming, and it's not down her throat.
In a deft movement, she pries herself away from his tongue and hands to perch on his stomach, holding his cock to maneuver it between swollen lips. The familiar stretch of taking her lover makes her shudder out a breath of contentment. Her cunt is so well lubricated he just slides right into her, her muscles rippling around him.
Intently, with no hesitation, her hips move, grinding down with every swish. Her head throws back. ]
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