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kaisinterlude · 7 days ago

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- Clicker Training

Relationships - Wandanat x Reader

Summary - Natasha and Wanda decide to clicker train you.

Warnings: edging (very breifly mentioned), eating out (r receiving), strap on (r receiving), riding said strap on, clicker training (duh), sorta mean wandanat

A/N: idk if i like this so might delete and rewrite in the morning, we'll see how it does

You're spread out on the bed, eagle style, as your ankles and wrists are tied. Cheeks flushed a hot red, your body thrums with pleasure, squirming and writhing while you whine desperately. There's vibe pressed up against your clit, set onto the highest setting as Wanda trails kisses along your body.

You'd been kept here for what felt like hours, tied up and edged over and over. Every time you got close, she would turn the vibrator down, leaving you dangling on the edge. Technically it was your fault for being a brat, for acting out when Wanda said she had work to do, but it wasn't fair that she was busy all the time and you were desperate for attention. Tears threaten to fall from the corners of your eyes as you hope that you can come before she stops you.

She trails her lips between your breasts, not quite where you want her, and down your stomach. Stopping right above your throbbing cunt, she glances up at you, green eyes shadowed by long lashes that have dark mascara applied.

"Are you ready to be a good girl?" One of her hands tweak your nipple, the other hidden from view and causing a mix of fear and anticipation to curl in your stomach. All she receives is a whine, "Words sweetheart."

Another needy whimper leaves you, hips bucking up into her face as her warm breath fans against your dripping cunt, "Yes mommy," you babble, "I'll be good. Promise- I can be good- Please I need you."

Your pathetic pleas have her smirking, and she squeezes your nipple roughly. Then a small clicking sound goes off, cutting through the air sharply and you lift your head up to stare at her quizzically. Wanda doesn't even acknowledge it, instead pulling the vibrator away. A choked sob leaves your throat, but it quickly turns into a moan as her lips press against your oversensitive core.

Her tongue laps up the juices leaking from your hole, applying a gentle pressure to your clit and sucking. That's all it takes to send you hurtling over the edge, tumbling into bliss as you moan and arch your back off the bed. Tears start to flow down your face, the pleasure overwhelming and you know Wanda adores the sight.

She doesn't stop until you've come down, panting and sweat slicked. When your eyes focus on her, the clicking sound goes off again and you tilt your head slightly.

"What's that?" Your voice is rough from the sounds you were making but you hardly care.

All Wanda does is smile cryptically and climb up the bed to rest on your side, pulling you close and kissing your forehead, "Don't worry about it pretty girl."

^_______________^

Natahsa rests her hands on your thighs, holding you upright even as you long to sink down. A frustrated whine is muffled into her shoulder as you squirm for the release you want. Her strap pokes the tip of your entrance, lifting her hips teasingly. The office is cold, your nipples pebbled and straining against the fabric of your bra as you try and sink down on her strap.

"Natty," you whine against her suit, "I've been good."

She clicks her tongue against her teeth, "I know you have милый, just let Daddy have her fun."

Her words make your chest bubble in frustration, and you express that with a petulant bite of her shoulder. She doesn't react, instead slowly rocking her hips to slide the strap through your folds, slowly gathering your wetness on it. You're positively dripping, sticky fluid running down your thighs and coating the silicone toy. Thighs tightening as you try and press down, Natasha digs her nails into your skin with a sharp exhale.

"Patience," she chides softly, a stern undertone to her words and you huff but obey. She dips her head down to kiss along your neck, setting your skin on fire and making your core throb with need. After she's sure you won't move, one of her hands slides to unclasp your bra, letting it fall off your shoulders and to the floor.

Licking her lips, Natasha takes one of your nipples into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it. You moan, pressing your head further into her shoulder as your thighs shake and you roll your hips. The toy is still slowly sliding through your folds as Tasha plays with your breasts, her tongue and teeth teasing the sensitive peak.

"Please Tasha, I really need it," Tears gather in the corners of your eye as your voice increases a pitch. There's a clicking sound, echoing faintly in your ear as you plead.

She releases your nipple with a wet pop, "Well since you ask so nicely."

In one smooth movement she slams your hips down, burying the strap all the way in as both of you keen loudly. You're positive Wanda can hear you from her office next door and it's a wonder she hasn't barged in yet.

As Natasha's grip loosens on your hips you begin to bounce up and down, placing your hands on her shoulders for leverage. Her strap is girthy, thick ridges lining it that grind against your walls in just the right way that has you seeing stars. Your girlfriend helps you move up and down, her hands guiding your hips as you ride her desperately.

After a moment her head dips back down to your nipple and licks a long stripe up your breast before latching on to the little bud. The strap hits that spot buried deep inside you and your movements falter, fingers curling into her suit jacket as you let out a shuddering moan.

"Need some help?" She coos; voice filled with faux sympathy.

You nod, tears wetting the corners of your eyes, "Please Daddy."

Another click that's hardly noticeable through your haze of pleasure. You don't even notice one of her hands holding the device. With a satisfied hum, she grabs your hips with both hands and helps you slide up and down, your juices leaking onto her lap.

Your breathy sounds and wet squishing fill the room as you near your peak, biting down hard on your lip and closing your eyes. When she snaps her hips upward sharply, you muffle a scream into her shoulder, orgasm crashing over you.

Hips stuttering to a stop, you pant, a slight sheen of sweat sticking your hair to your face. Click. You let out a content sigh into her neck, wrapping your arms around her as her strap stays buried inside you.

^_______________^

The subtle clicker training went on for a few months. They always did it when you were too lost in the throes of pleasure to really acknowledge it, but your brain noticed, and it didn't take long for you to associate the sound with a good time.

Whether it was being coached through eating Wanda out and the click going off when you obeyed. Or following Natasha around the house like a little ducking, doing everything she says. Your girlfriends were training your body to respond to the sound and you didn't even notice.

Your dress flows down your frame as you shift impatiently next to Natasha and Wanda. The two are chatting to some of their colleagues at a work event, music playing softly over the speakers as everyone has some sort of drink. Except for you.

"Puppies don't get drinks." Wanda had told you, plucking the champagne out of your grip and ignoring your blushing cheeks.

Then you hear it, well not really, but your body registers it - a click. A familiar slickness gathers between your thighs, and you exhale sharply, pressing your legs together. Time passes on, your girlfriends continuing to chat as if you weren't there.

You begin rocking back and forth on your feet to soothe your boredom but it doesn't do much, so you resort to staring at the two redheads. Natasha has her hair pinned up in an elegant bun, a few strands let out to frame her face as they curl in soft rings. Her lips are coated in a red lipstick that highlights her eyes and the black suit she wears.

Wanda on the other hand, has her hair mostly down. Some of it is pulled into a half-ponytail, held together by a gold pin that matches her earrings and necklace. The tip of the necklace dips below the neckline of her stunning black dress, a perfect compliment to her wife's.

The younger woman catches you staring, taking a deliberate sip of her drink and swallowing slowly. Your mouth goes dry at the sight of her throat bobbing and she smirks. Click. You squeeze your thighs against each other, hoping for relief to the ache that's steadily building.

After a moment you tug on Natasha's sleeve, "Tasha," you whisper.

She doesn't even glance at you as she wraps her arm around your waist, tucking you into her side. Absently she places a kiss to your temple, letting her lips linger as she nods along to something Agatha is saying and then responding in kind.

Huffing, you turn and place a soft kiss on her neck, hoping to gain her attention. Click. Your brain grows foggy and you glance towards Wanda for help. Much like her counterpart, she doesn't even look at you. But her tongue swipes out to lick her lips and you know she realizes you’re staring.

Click

You grab Natasha's suit jacket tightly in your fist, resisting the urge to whine and stomp your feet. You want them to pay attention to you, to solve the ache between your thighs. Wanda finally turns her head to look at you, and as if sensing your annoyance, mouths, 'be a good girl.'

You nod reluctantly, shifting to try and adjust your panties subtly. Click. They're sticking to your skin down, drenched from how wet and needy you - ready to be fucked. It's a relief when people start clearing out, only a dozen or so left in the room. It's an even bigger relief when Wanda and Natasha bid their colleagues goodbye.

"Say goodbye darling," Natasha murmurs in your ear.

You stammer out a goodbye, rewarded with a click. The two guide you to the car and your steps are awkward and shaky, wetness gathering all over the inside of your thighs. You're positioned in the back seat, your girlfriends situated in the front.

Wanda turns back to look at you as Natasha starts driving, smirking as you squirm in your seat and hands twitch at your side, "You've been a good girl." You nod. Click. Desperation coats your fingers as you resist the urge to touch yourself right then and there. "Good girls get rewards."

pt.2?

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kaisinterlude · 7 days ago

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thinking about Wandanat and long distance girlfriend reader :P 18+ under cut

You met them when they were on vacation. Two hot women that you hooked up with while drunk.

The three of you stayed in touch after that, hooking up a couple more times before they went home.

You'd gotten their phone numbers but didnt' expect much once they left.

That was until Natasha's name flashed across the screen and after a moment you picked it up.

Breathy moans and gasps met your ears the minute you answered. Wanda whined, an unusual sound from the dominate woman, and you could hear the bed creak.

"You gonne come for me baby?" Natasha's voice is a low rumble and your hand tightens around the phone.

Your infinately grateful that you're home alone or else this would be awkward.

"F- fuck," Wanda's moan is drawn out and you can hear Natasha's fingers slapping against her cunt.

Cheeks flushing a deep color your breath catches in your throat and you feel a slickness being to coat your thighs.

You dip your own finger between your pants, pressing the mute button, and begin to finger yourself.

It doesn't take long for you to hear a loud keen on the other side of the phone and a moment later you come yourself.

"Think she'd move here if we asked her?" Wanda pants, her breathless voice matching your own ragged breathing.

"I dunno," drawling the words, you can hear some ruffling on the other side of the phone, "Why don't we ask her. Darling you have any input?"

Your breath is stolen from your lungs and you have no idea how to respond but only unmute and let out a small whimper.

A few weeks later, you're texting with them, legs pressed together.

"Can I touch myself?" You type with a pouting emoji, hoping you'll be allowed to. It was a rule established over the weekend and you'd been teased all week without being given permission.

Three dots appear on the screen, Wanda's name next to them before a facetime call pops up.

You'd never answered a call faster, finger swiping across the screen. Wanda's smiling face greets you.

"Hi pretty girl," She greets softly, eyes shining, "You know the vibrator we shipped you last week, why don't you go grab that?"

You scramble off the bed, grabbing the toy out of a drawer with a soft blush. Yanking your pants off you glance at the phone eagerly, "What now?"

"I'll make you a deal," she murmurs, "If you can last fifteen minutes until Natty gets home to watch you come, then you can touch yourself tomorrow - if not, then you don't get to come for a week."

The words make you shiver but you nod shakily.

Turning the vibrator on you press it to your clit, moaning at the sensation instantly.

Wanda coos soft words at you as time passes and you start trembling, whimpers and moans leaving your lips while you buck into the toy.

You nearly drop the phone, barely managing to hold it up as you writhe on your bed.

"Wish it was you," you whine, squirming.

"I know baby I know. Can you turn it up a little bit more?"

Her words have dread and anticipation curling your stomach but you do as she says.

Instantly it's almost impossible to hold your orgasm back and while the idea of coming now is tempting, you'd rather be able to do it tonight and tomorrow.

"Please please," you babble, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you fight off your orgasm, "Please Wanda, please I need- I- fuck- I need to come."

"Shhh," she clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, "Natasha's almost home, just a couple more minutes."

A choked sob leaves you but you manage. It's a struggle and you nearly break.

Then finaly, you hear Natasha's voice and another sob escapes your throat.

"Can I cum?" Your words are jumbled together, hardly coherent.

Natasha scoffs, but its Wanda who speaks, "Go ahead baby."

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kaisinterlude · 7 days ago

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Thinking about puppy reader with wandanat and clicker training (18+ under cut)

The first time they use a clicker is during sex (duh). You'd been a brat all day, whiney and pouty

"You done being a brat?" Wanda hums and you respond with a whimper and nod of your head, the clicker goes off.

Natasha used it when she was teasing you. Her fingers swiped through your folds, and when she felt how wet you were, the clicker went off again.

The first few times were the most noticable. You would tilt your head and ask why they did it, never receiving a real answer, so you left it be after that.

"Does someone want Daddy's cock?" Natasha coos, rubbing the strap on against the tip of your entrance. Your sat in her lap, her hands holding your hips up so you can't sink down yet.

"Please," you whimper, "Need you daddy." And the clicker goes off.

Your brain begins to associate the clicker with pleasure

You're buried between Wanda's thighs, her hands holding you close as you eat her out.

"Just like that baby," she tilts her head back with a moan as Tasha kisses your shoulder blades, "Slower, use the tip of your tongue- Oh fuck sweetheart."

And Natasha rewarded you with a kiss in the center of your back and the familiar clicking sound.

It only took a couple of months to condition you to get wet and needy whenever you heart the clicker go off.

That's when your girlfriends decide to use it in public. The three of you are at some party, wearing fancy clothes.

You hear a clicking sound go off and almost instantly feel your core clench and a wetness pool there.

Natasha and Wanda seem oblivious, chatting on with friends, but you hear it again.

"Tasha," you mumble, tugging on her sleeve, shifting so that your thighs press together.

She raises an eyebrow, hardly glancing at you, "Not right now darling."

A tender kiss is placed to the side of your head as she wraps her arm around your waist and the click sounds again.

Everytime you do a little thing, kiss her shoulder, stare at Wanda's lips, hold Wanda's hand and run your fingers over her rings, hide your face in Natasha's neck - the clicker goes off.

By the time the party is over you are absolutely soaked, panties drenched through and core throbbing with need.

"Daddy," you whine, squirming in the backseat, "Mommy please."

Wanda glances back at you, "Patience. Can you do that for mommy? Wait a little longer? Then you'll get your reward sweetheart."

When you give a shaky nod, the clicker goes off once again but you hardly notice - the sound only registering as a promise of pleasure in your brain.

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kaisinterlude · 7 days ago

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- Clicker Training Reward

Relationships - Wandanat x Reader

Summary - Natasha and Wanda reward you for being so good.

Warnings: oral, collaring, spit roasting, one use of reader being called puppy, slight finger sucking

Pt.1

You're absolutely dripping, panties soaked through and clinging to your skin in a way that makes you cringe. Wanda's hand is a steady presence on your back, hovering just above your tailbone as she guides you into the house. Door clicking shut, Natasha disappears somewhere, but you hardly notice, eyes trained on Wanda.

The redhead turns to face you, hand sliding up your back to rest at your neck gently. She squeezes, not hard enough to hurt - just enough to make you melt. Your knees grow weak, and legs become shakier, as if they weren't already trembling from how needy you were.

Her fingers are cool against your skin, a soothing balm to the heat running in your veins. You lean into her touch with a soft thigh.

"Wanda," you breathe out, eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment.

She tightens her grip around your neck in warning, "Try again sweetheart."

"Mommy." The word is a soft whimper as you give her wide eyes, trying to plead with her through just expression alone. But you know that won't work, so you tack on, "Please Mommy, I've been so good. I need you."

The look in her eyes is a familiar one, faux pity while she juts out her lower lip, and amusement. Her other hand lands on your hip, gripping it possessively as she walks you back until you hit the wall. The hand on your neck slips to rest on the front, applying the tiniest bit of pressure to your throat.

"I know you do," she coos, pressing a teasing kiss to your nose, "Just do one more thing for mommy and then she'll play with you, ok? Daddy's getting something but while she does that..." Wanda trails off, pushing you down gently.

You sink to your knees without resistance, hardly caring for the way the wood digs into your skin and place your chin on her thigh. The look you give her can only be described as pure adoration, eyes sparkling with desperation to have your own aches relieved, but also to pleasure your girlfriend.

Without needing a command, you trail your hands along her soft skin, pushing her dress up inch by inch until it's bunched at her hips. The skin that's revealed is a sight that you are lucky to see. A perfect canvas for your teeth.

At first you just press your lips to her thigh softly, inhaling her scent. She smells like strawberry perfume, a fresh bottle she bought yesterday, and vanilla bodywash. It was a combination that led you to tilt your chin, giving you better access to her inner leg and place kisses there. You know better than to tease, but you can't help it when she's so soft and perfect.

There's a tug in your hair, impatient and telling you all you need to know. One hand holding up her dress, you use the other to push her damp panties to the side. Your mouth goes dry at the sight of her clean-shaven cunt, slick coating her folds.

Leaning in, you drag your tongue along the wet skin, moaning softly. You flatten the muscle to press against her clit, a small gasp leaving her lips as her hips jerk into your mouth. She tastes like nectar from the gods, the sweetest thing you'd ever savor.

The small nub pulses against your tongue so you swirl around it, at first small slow circles. Then you go faster as there's a sharp yank to your hair. Your nails dig into her thighs for support, keeping them apart as you eat her out, working with skilled familiarity.

You can hear footsteps, soft and light, approach. Natasha comes up behind Wanda, hands on her hips as she kisses her neck. Out of the corner of your eye you catch sight of a strap and something dangling from her finger. You aren't given time to ponder it before you're shoved back into Wanda's pussy.

She hisses sharply as you suck, lips curling around the sensitive bundle of nerves and pulling it between your teeth. You don't bite down, but you do drag your teeth over it when you pull away. Diving back in, you bury your face between her folds, lapping up her wetness eagerly.

Her thighs start to tremble and only Natasha's hands are holding her up. With a final flick of your tongue, your chin and lips get coated in her essence. You moan at the taste of it, not letting up in your frantic movements as you clean her up, making sure to get every last drop.

Once you're certain you've licked up all of her cum, you pull back, licking your lips. Natasha's chin rests on her wife's shoulder and she looks down at you as Wanda heaves, catching her breath. After a moment, Wanda looks up, her hand slipping from your hair to your chin.

She swipes at the fluids coating your skin, smearing them further. Her thumb presses against your lower lip, softly commanding entrance, and you clean the digit up eagerly.

Once you've sufficiently cleared her finger of any leftover cum, she pulls back, a small smile on her face. Natasha replaces her spot, and your eyes catch on the leather dangling from her fingers. It's a collar, a sleek black one with a silver name tag hanging from the front.

A singular word is printed onto it, Pet. Your throat goes dry and a fresh flush coats your cheeks. You shift in place, knees scraping against the wooden floor, hands tightening into fists as you stare at the collar. Natasha swings it teasingly.

"We were going to wait for a while longer," she hums, unbuckling it, "But you've been such a good girl, I think you deserve it now."

She takes another step closer, the tip of her strap just inches away from your face as she leans down. Her dress pants are gone and you stare at the tangle of red hair covering her cunt as she fastens the collar around your neck.

It's not heavy, per se, but it weighs you down like a thousand pounds. You feel the weight of its meaning, the implications behind it - throat bopping as you swallow thickly. The name tag jingles and your thighs press together, so so desperate for release.

"Bedroom, strip. On your hands and knees with your ass up like the good puppy you are."

Nodding eagerly, you scramble to your feet, bolting up the stairs without bothering to check if they're following. You fumble with the zipper of your dress, huffing in frustration when it won't come off. Impatient and needy, you struggle out of it, shimmying it down your legs like a child.

What's taking them so long?

Your panties and lace bra join the dress in a crumpled pile on the floor before you scramble onto the bed. Hands and knees resting on the soft sheets, the collar making a light sound as you get into position, you make sure your ass is up as you wait.

Just as you were about to peek over your shoulder to check, the door creaks open and you don't dare to move. You'd been waiting all day, core aching ever since Natasha made you strap warm. Now you were finally about to get fucked and you would not risk ruining it.

The bed dips behind you and Natasha's calloused hands land on your ass. She kneads the soft flesh between the rough pads of her fingers, then slides up the center of your back and pushes you down until you rest on your forearms.

Wanda crawls onto the bed in front of you, taking your head and placing it in her lap. A shiver runs through you at the gesture, a sign that Natasha was not going to be gentle. She rarely was, but if Wanda was being kind you knew you were in for a rough night.

Rocking her hips back forth slowly, the tip of strap drags through your folds. The toy gets coated in your arousal, dripping from it and down your thighs onto the bed. Normally you would be embarrassed at how wet you were, but you couldn't bring yourself to care now.

Hands gripping your waist tightly, Natasha leans down, "You ready for your reward pretty girl?"

You whimper and nod, eyes already shutting as Wanda cards her fingers through your hair. The soft motion is a sharp contrast to the way Natasha snaps her hips forwards, burying the strap to the hilt. A small yelp escapes you, jumping slightly while Wanda holds you down.

Natasha wastes no time, setting a brutal pace as she pounds in and out of you. With each thrust, she yanks your hips back to meet her, flesh slapping against flesh. Wet squelching sounds fill the room, punctuated by your breathy moans and Wanda's soft assurances.

Quick, biting kisses are placed to your back, dragging over your shoulder bones and down your spine. Her tongue leaves a path, hot and dampening your skin as she slides it up your back. Stopping at the base of your neck, just below the collar, Natasha bites down.

One of her hands leaves your hips to glide across your stomach, grabbing your collar and tugging your head back. A pathetic whine leaves you as you're pulled away from Wanda and Natasha laughs lightly, still pounding into you.

"I wanna see your face," Her words are deep, slightly breathless from the relentless pace she sets. Tears prick the corners of your eyes from the stretch and how fast she's going, and you know she would love to see you cry.

Wanda climbs off the bed while Natasha keeps your head tilted back. The tug on the collar cuts off your air slightly, leaving you gasping for breath. Bed creaking, the headboard slamming against the wall with every thrust.

Another strap hovers in front of your face, blurry from the tears stinging your eyes, and Wanda taps it against your lips. Your thighs start to tremble as you whimper, hips jerking back into Natasha's. Her nails dig into your skin, hard enough to leave marks.

"Open up."

Eyes glancing up at Wanda for a brief moment, you force your mouth open. She's gentler than Natasha, slowly easing the strap in inch by inch, letting you adjust to it for a second. Gagging as it hits the back of your throat, a single tear slips down your cheek.

Natasha moans and you know she enjoys the sight.

The first couple of Wanda's thrusts are slow, her hand cupping your chin almost gently as she lets you get used to the stimulation of your mouth and cunt being used. Just as your beginning to adjust, Natasha's hand on your hip dips down between your thighs to tease your clit.

You moan around Wanda's strap, and she takes that as a sign to pick up the pace. With each shove of the strap to the back of your throat, you choke and it's hard to breathe. You can hardly take in enough air with Natasha's grip on your collar and your mouth stuffed full of silicone toy.

Tears streak down your face as your thighs tremble and you feel your climax approaching. It coils in your stomach like a spring ready to launch at the slightest touch. Spit dribbles down the side of your chin, leaking down your neck and mingling with your tears.

Wanda releases your chin only to grab your hair, using it as leverage to fuck your mouth faster, harder. It's almost too much. Key word: almost. Both of the women moan above you as you sniffle and choke around the strap, hips jerking and thighs trembling.

The only thing holding you up is Natasha and when she twists your clit between her fingers, the coil in your stomach explodes. Keening around the strap you slouch, orgasm crashing over you. You don't notice it, but you squirt, coating Natasha's thighs in your juices.

They both keep up a brutal pace for a moment longer before slowly, letting you come down panting. Natasha releases the collar around your neck and Wanda pulls out, letting you sag as you heave, trying to catch your breath.

You feel utterly fucked out, core tingling with pleasure and stomach twisting with satisfaction. You whine softly when Natasha removes her strap from your cunt, instantly missing the feeling of being full. She shushes you gently and eases her grip on your hips.

With no support, you slouch, falling face first onto the bed. Your girlfriends chuckle at your blissed out state, a gentle hand running over your hair.

"You did so well," Wanda praises, leaning down to kiss your head.

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kaisinterlude · 8 days ago

Text

- Clicker Training Reward

Relationships - Wandanat x Reader

Summary - Natasha and Wanda reward you for being so good.

Warnings: oral, collaring, spit roasting, one use of reader being called puppy, slight finger sucking

Pt.1

Her fingers are cool against your skin, a soothing balm to the heat running in your veins. You lean into her touch with a soft thigh.

"Wanda," you breathe out, eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment.

She tightens her grip around your neck in warning, "Try again sweetheart."

She swipes at the fluids coating your skin, smearing them further. Her thumb presses against your lower lip, softly commanding entrance, and you clean the digit up eagerly.

"We were going to wait for a while longer," she hums, unbuckling it, "But you've been such a good girl, I think you deserve it now."

"Bedroom, strip. On your hands and knees with your ass up like the good puppy you are."

What's taking them so long?

Hands gripping your waist tightly, Natasha leans down, "You ready for your reward pretty girl?"

"Open up."

Natasha moans and you know she enjoys the sight.

With no support, you slouch, falling face first onto the bed. Your girlfriends chuckle at your blissed out state, a gentle hand running over your hair.

"You did so well," Wanda praises, leaning down to kiss your head.

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kaisinterlude · 8 days ago

Text

Too Long (Natasha Romanoff x Reader)

18+ (this is pure smut, you have been warned)

Summary: Wanda is away for work, and you're feeling increasingly needy. Natasha tries to teach you some patience and restraint.

Word count: 5.4k

Featuring: Mommy kink, praise kink, begging, slight dumbification, slight humiliation, penetration, strap-warming, slight size kink, cunnilingus, dacryphylia (soft of), explicit consent, safeword use (and healthy discussion), subspace, aftercare.

Warnings: This is kinda filthy — please mind the tags above and skip if they squick.

A/N: This is my first foray into smut, so it might be a bit clunky/repetitive in parts. I wrote this on the notes app of my phone in the back of my parents car on a long cross-country drive earlier this year. I don't know why I'm telling you this. Catholic guilt maybe? Anyway, I'm posting this and running...

Wanda has been away for three days now, and she won’t be home for another two. In her absence, your emotions have been wobbly, and your behaviour less than your best. Thus far, Natasha has been tolerant. She understands that your petulance stems from the separation, and how much you’re missing your Mommy. So she’s been letting you off lightly when you’ve pouted and deliberately pushed her buttons, giving you gentle reminders rather than stern warnings. She even let you get away with not tidying up the living room last night, which is normally a non-negotiable. And yet, despite all of her kindness and understanding and leniency, your misbehaviour has only continued. If not escalated.

Natasha told you this morning that she needed space to focus on her work, and she didn’t want to be disturbed while she was in her study. She even explained when you could have breaks together, for lunch and snacks and cuddles if needed. But what she thought was a simple, reasonable rule (set mainly to help you get some of your own work done in peace, rather than any selfish desire of her own) is being blatantly ignored. Repeatedly.

The fourth time you interrupt her without knocking, whining something unintelligible about being bored and needing your recently confiscated Switch right now, Natasha’s understanding of the situation flickers into a new light. Her previous resolve lost, a new tactic takes its place. One which she realises is far more appropriate for your needs, as she now sees them.

-----------------⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅-----------------

Natasha frowns at you, her demeanour very different to the rather softer affect she has adopted since dropping Wanda off at the airport. She seems more like herself now. Serious, firm. Reliable. The domme you know; the domme you need.

“Go change into a skirt and a vest top. Now, please,” Natasha commands, her tone cutting into you at once, making your heart flutter and your core twinge.

“Yes, Nat” you squeak out, then dash off — out her study, down the hall and up the stairs to your room. In the closet, you find a white cropped tank top and a layered white and pink floral skirt. It’s short, leaving little to the imagination. You’re fairly sure this is what Natasha wants.

Once you’re dressed, you pull up your socks and race down the stairs again, almost skidding as you turn the corner to her study. The door is closed over, making you hesitate. Do you knock?

Your heart pounds, a smidgeon of anxiety rising to the surface.

“Nat?” You call out nervously, twiddling your fingers together and scrunching your toes up beneath you.

“You may come in, malyshka,” she responds, her voice husky and commanding. Your hand trembles as you reach for the handle and push the door open.

Nat is sitting at her desk again, looking across at you with her fingers tapping the edge of the table. She has a stern sort of look on her face, one which makes you fold in on yourself, shoulders curling forwards, head ducking.

“Come here.”

You obey her instruction at once, approaching in a flurry, desperate to please her. You stop about a foot away from her, hovering at the side of her desk.

Natasha’s eyes roam your body from top to toe, smirking appreciatively. You can feel the cool air from the open balcony door meeting the already-damp patch of your underwear beneath the skirt.

“Now then, malyshka…” Natasha begins, her tone serious and a little scathing. “Why do you think I’ve called you here?”

You swallow thickly, words sticking in your throat.

“I’ve been bad,” you squeak out.

“Hmm…” she hums, considering your words. “Can you tell me more about that, baby?” Her voice is a little softer now. Perhaps she’s noticed your trembling fingers and taken pity.

“I - I’ve been disturbing you while you work,” you mumble. “I’m sorry.”

Natasha reaches out and takes your shaking hands into hers.

“And can you tell me why, please, little one?” She strokes your hands with her thumbs, and you feel like you’re melting. You desperately want her to hug you, to hold you. Anything more than this.

“Um…” you gnaw at your lip, struggling to maintain eye contact with her piercing green eyes. Natasha nods encouragingly at you, and you take a deep breath. “I n-need you, Natty. I - I wanted…” you blush darkly, her questioning forcing you to consciously realise what you’ve been wanting, what you’ve been aiming to happen without really knowing.

“Go on, malyshka,” Natasha urges you, letting go of your left hand and cupping your chin, lifting it so you’re looking at her. You swallow, and feel hot, embarrassed tears well in your eyes.

“I wanted you to touch me,” you say, the words spilling out in tandem with a single tear.

“Oh, my pretty girl,” Natasha coos, wiping the tear away with her left hand then placing both hands around your waist, fingers brushing against the skin exposed between the ending of your top and the beginning of the skirt. “You know you don’t need to act out to get that, right? You can just use your words.”

You squirm on the spot and look down again, feeling your arousal pool at the condescending tone she uses. Natasha’s hands snake a bit lower, resting on your hips now, pressing in against the fabric of the skirt and stilling your slightly swaying movements.

“Hmm, do you need a reminder of Natty’s rules, baby?” she asks, making you look up uncertainly. “Remember, I like you to use your words, malyshka. Big girls use their words to communicate, and only big girls get to play grown up games with Natty. Are you a big girl, Y/N?”

You whine at this, feeling hot all over and struggling to contain the urge to rub your thighs together, the soaked fabric of your panties becoming distinctly uncomfortable against your throbbing centre.

“Are you too little right now to play?” Natasha checks, her tone wavering between teasing and concern. You look up at her, mind foggy and unsure how to answer. “Colour, baby,” she commands, and you feel relieved at the easy request.

“Green,” you whisper, at once. She smiles.

“Good girl for using your words,” she praises, and she leans forward in her chair, rising a little to kiss you passionately on the lips. You feel yourself falling into her, your weight taken entirely by her firm hold on your hips. When her tongue presses against your lips you grant her entry at once, and she’s lapping inside, her tongue pressing against yours, her teeth taking your lower lip in a bite that borders on painful. You wrap your hands around the back of her neck and moan into her mouth. In response, her hands dig in a little tighter to your hips, and she breathes out a little gasp of appreciation as she lets your lip go and separates.

“Let’s take your panties off, then you can sit on Natty’s lap,” she tells you. You stare at her for a moment, blinking as the words sinks in. She waits for your smile of understanding before she reaches beneath your skirt, hooks her fingers into the elastic of your panties and slides them down your legs. They pool at your ankles and you step out of them, her hands returning to your hips and holding you steady as you wobble. Natasha glances down at the glistening fabric on the floor, smirks, then lifts you onto her, arranging your legs so your knees are pressed against the remaining edges of the chair, your calves folded under your thighs. Your skirt splays out, hiding your thighs and a bit of hers like a blanket. As you sink down, you feel something hidden beneath you, beneath the fabric of her trousers. Something hard, that presses against the sweet spot that craves friction.

Natasha sees your surprise and smirks.

“Feel that, baby?” she asks, her voice even lower than usual. Seductive, excited. You nod, biting your lip to suppress a whimper. Natasha raises her eyebrow and you remember her rules.

“Y-yes, Natty,” you breathe.

She rewards your words with a controlling movement of her hands on your hips, guiding you to rock yourself back and forth over the buried strap. Your moans come out broken, your breath too shaky to maintain a single sound.

“P-please Natty,” you beg, tears bubbling up again even though you’re so happy. “I need you. Please.”

“Shhh… it’s okay baby,” Natasha hushes you gently, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips and quelling your babbled words. “Let Natty help you.”

She lift you a little so you’re resting on your knees and hovering above her. Then she removes her hands from your hips, and reaches down beneath the drape of your skirt. You hear her unzip her trousers, which must already be ruined by your slick. You blush at the thought, struggling to stay steady on your knees.

Natasha’s hands return to your hips, and she looks you in the eyes, seeking consent.

“Please, Natty — I want this,” you whisper, desperation making your voice waver but you’re so sure; you need her.

“Okay, baby,” she promises, kissing you again then bringing one hand down beneath your skirt. Brushing against your thighs, teasing you only briefly before taking her fingers to your folds and running them from your opening to your clit, collecting your arousal and letting out a deep breath.

“Oh, zolotse — you’re so wet,” she groans delightedly, and you whimper at her words, at her delicate touch. You need more. “Is this all for me?”

“Yes, Natty,” you whisper, feeling the hand at your hip move back up to your waist, pressing into the flesh beneath your ribs and holding you tight. Your fingers flutter at the back of her neck, too nervous to take hold of her hair but expecting you’ll need too soon, to anchor yourself as she enters you. Please be soon.

Natasha’s finger renew their inspection of your folds, whispering back and forth, producing small convulsions as your hole begs to inhale something, twitching at the teasing glances of her fingertips.

“Natty…” you whine, tears building up and spilling over silently. “Please, inside me, please.”

She silences your babbling with a kiss, and as she sucks at your lips a single finger finds your opening and enters, making you moan into her mouth. Natasha murmurs something as she kisses you, lips wobbling out the indiscernible sounds, but the appreciative groan that accompanies them makes you think she is enjoying the way your walls are fluttering around her digit.

“God, baby,” she murmurs when she releases you from the kiss, “your pussy is so tight; I need to stretch you more before I can fill you up, hm?”

You whimper at this, humiliation and arousal overpowering your ability to think. You pray she won’t ask for more words, because surely they won’t come now. Your brain is so empty, so full of fog.

Natasha removes her finger from you, but then re-enters with two before you can even whine at the loss. She slides in easily but you can feel yourself squeezing at her once she’s inside. You feel so close already, and it’s just her fingers, just the beginning of what she must have planned for you. Your head droops and you rest your forehead against her shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut and willing yourself not to come, not yet.

“Oh baby, is it too much already?” Natasha asks, crooning with condescension. You tremble against her as her hand leaves your waist and curls around your back, holding you in a gentle embrace as her other hand pumps two fingers in and out of you at a slow pace, masterfully avoiding your clit. You shake your head against her shoulder desperately, not wanting her to finish you here. You want to be good for her, to hold on until she lets you. And to be good, Natasha needs your words. You take a shuddering breath.

“Natty,” you squeak out, her name strangled by your quivering arousal.

“You’re okay, baby, I’ve got you,” Natasha reassures you. She carefully removes her fingers from you, leaving you empty and twitching. The hand around your back returns to your waist, and you revel in the sharp pain of her fingernails digging into your skin, finding you amongst the fog and grounding you a little in the moment.

Then you feel it, the silicone head pressing against your hole, circling slightly as Natasha moves it over your slick to prepare you. You pant and scrunch your face up in anticipation, desperate for it, powerless to take control in Natasha’s firm grip. But she doesn’t make you wait too long. Guiding you by your waist onto the strap, which she must be holding steady with her other hand. You can’t see it because of the skirt, but it keeps going. On and on she eases you down onto it, your entrance stretching to accommodate its length and girth. Your mouth opens into an O of pleasure and a tiny hint of pain, which Natasha keeps a careful eye on, and uses to determine her speed. She slows at the slightest hint of a grimace and pulls you back up, so you bob up and down very slowly a few times, until you finally sink down and the skin of your inner thighs meets the fabric of her trousers.

“Good girl,” she praises you, peppering your face with kisses and cleaning away the tears. “Such a good girl, taking Natty’s big cock so well. You looked so pretty, baby, sinking down on the biggest strap. Such a stretch for your tiny pussy, hm? I’m so proud of you.” You cry and whine against her, fingers scrabbling at the back of her shirt and threading into her hair as gently as you can, desperate for her to relieve the throbbing by allowing you to ride her. But her hands are both on your waist now, holding you down in her lap.

“Now, Natty has some work to do, baby,” Natasha tells you calmly, her voice returning to her serious, daily tone. You blink at her, too full to think properly. Natasha gives you a kiss on the lips, then drags the chair closer to the desk and reaches forward with her right hand, taking hold of her computer mouse.

You stare at her, confused and unable to find the words to express your frustration. You just pout and blink your teary eyelashes, hoping she’ll explain. Finally, she takes pity on you.

“You didn’t think Natty would reward you for interrupting her, did you, malyshka?” she asks, shaking her head slyly. Your lip wobbles and she hushes you, gently rubbing her left thumb against your tummy. “Hush now, baby — don’t worry. If you can sit still and keep Natty’s cock warm for an hour then you’ll get your reward for being a good girl.”

An hour?

Natasha must see the panic in your face, because her smile disappears at once and her other hand moves back to you, cupping your cheek and wiping your tears away.

“Colour, baby?” she asks you.

You want to say green, but something is stopping you. Of course, you love Natasha taking control, you love her applying consequences. And you want her to stay in charge, to do what she wants, what she thinks is best. But you know that if you say green just now, it won’t be entirely honest. Your heart pounds, and your voice gets lost inside you.

“Orange or red?” Natasha asks, finding your eyes again and trying to ground you with a neutral look. It helps, her taking out one of the options. It helps to know she’s expecting it.

“Orange,” you whisper.

“Good girl,” Natasha tells you seriously, giving you a small smile. “I’m so proud of you for being honest.” She pauses, letting the praise sink in. “Can you tell me what’s uncomfortable, malyshka?”

“Too long,” you mumble, blushing. Natasha tilts her head, frowning with worry.

“The strap?”

You shake your head quickly.

“No, the um…” You bite your lip, and duck your head. “The time. I don’t think I can manage an hour.”

You feel embarrassed, that this is the reason you’re first putting a pause to proceedings like this. Your impatience, your inability to sit still. Even with a strap buried inside you, even with Natasha’s soothing embrace, you still know you won’t manage. You’ll get bored and antsy and you’ll get in trouble, no matter how much you want to be good.

“That’s okay, baby,” Natasha assures you, visibly relieved that she’s not hurting you. “You’re right, an hour doesn’t make sense, I got a little carried away. Do you want this to end? We can move to the bed, or switch straight to aftercare if you need?”

You shake your head again, bringing your hands to Natasha’s shoulders and fiddling with the collar of her shirt nervously.

“No, I - I want to continue, please.”

“Are you sure, malyshka?” Natasha checks, concern etched in the lines of her forehead. “We can always give it another go a different day, and discuss it properly first?”

“Please Natty,” you tell her, eyes wide and pleading. You do want this; you just needed it amended a little.

“Okay,” she says, nodding and massaging her thumbs at your waist. “Can you tell me then, my love, how long you want it to last?”

You wrinkle up your nose in disagreement. It’s no fun if you choose; you’re not good at decisions and besides it’s her being in control that makes these scenarios pleasurable.

“You choose,” you tell her petulantly, and she rolls her eyes, though her lips curl into a smile.

“You’re so stubborn,” she teases you, tickling her fingers into your sides very gently, and making you giggle, then moan as your wriggles make the strap press deliciously against your walls. Natasha chuckles at your inadvertent pleasure and stills you again in her grip.

“How about half an hour?” she asks you, serious again and studying your face for any sign of doubt or discomfort.

“Okay, Natty,” you agree. And you smile a little to reassure her, which makes the skin of her forehead smooth out again.

“Good girl,” she praises you, kissing your nose gently and making you giggle again. “You’ve used your words so well; Mommy will be so impressed when I tell her.”

You blush and bury your face into her neck, embarrassed at the prospect of her relaying this situation to anyone. Even Wanda, who you know will be happy to hear that you used a safeword when you needed to.

Natasha brings a hand to the back of your head and strokes your hair, shushing you gently as you whine.

“That’s it baby. You just relax with Natty’s strap inside you. I’ll set a timer and if you’re good and let me work, then I’ll reward you, I promise.” She kisses the crown of your head, and you breathe out, relaxing. But then, she can’t resist another little tease. “You must be feeling so sticky now hm? All stretched out by Natty’s big cock?”

You whine and squirm against her neck, too ashamed to speak. Her words make you feel even more full, the pressure against your walls immense. She pats your head and luckily doesn’t try to pry any more words from you, as she fiddles with her phone and then holds the timer up so you can see it has begun counting down from thirty minutes.

Natasha’s hands leave you after a while, but you don’t dare wriggle on top of her, despite the overwhelming urge to squeeze your thighs or buck your hips against the full feeling. Even if you were bold enough to try, you’re not sure if you have the energy left. The buildup and teasing, the tears and the honesty, they’ve all drained you to the point of being completely floppy and pliant in her lap.

“Baby, we’re halfway through now,” Natasha tells you gently, lifting you from your haze after a while. “Are your legs okay? Do you want to change your position a little?”

You have to force yourself to check in with your body; all your senses are somewhat dulled by your stupor and the overwhelming sensation of being so full. Your knees are a bit achey, you realise.

“Sore, Natty,” you whisper.

“Your legs? Or something else?” she checks.

“Just legs,” you tell her. She nods, finds your chin and lifts your head so she can see your face.

“Okay; let’s get you off your knees and get your legs to wrap around my back instead. I need to lift you up a little though, baby. It might feel funny, with the strap. Is that okay?”

“Okay, mama,” you whisper. It slips out without you consciously noticing. Natasha’s face softens even more, but she doesn’t draw attention to it, perhaps realising you don’t quite know what you said.

Natasha lifts you gently, and you feel yourself sliding up the strap as you rise. It does feel funny, and you whine at the feeling.

“I know, baby,” Natasha coos. “Let’s move your pretty legs now, get them comfy.” She supports your weight and guides your legs to unfold and curl around the back of her. As she gently eases you back down onto the strap, your ankles cross over each other, holding her body close. You let out a little “hummph” sound as you sink down to the bottom, your clit brushing against the base of the strap and making your hips buck a little automatically.

“Good girl, well done,” Natasha murmurs into your ear, massaging your waist on either side to calm you down. When your breathing slows again, she lets go of your waist and places her left hand on your back, scratching gently as she clicks her mouse in her other hand. You’re not sure if she’s really working, or if it’s just part of the scene. Either way, the idea that she can focus on work while you’re consumed with the feeling of her strap inside you makes your cunt twitch with humiliation. You’re entirely at her disposal, a melted mass for her hands to mould, but she can stay cool and superior, apparently unaffected by the way your arousal leaks out of your stretched hole and dampens the fabric of her trousers.

You almost fall asleep on her shoulder, so tired from the ordeal and placated by her nails scratching lightly into your back, keeping you just distracted enough from the way her strap seems to be bulging against your internal seams. You’re awoken from the haze by the beep of her phone and the return of Natasha’s full attention, her right hand cupping the back of your head, her lips kissing yours with an energy you can’t return. You settle for moaning passively into her mouth, eyes fluttering closed and your tummy twisting as your arousal approaches the edge again.

“So good for me, baby, you’re perfect,” Natasha whispers, her lips hovering millimetres from your own. “I’m so proud of you, you stayed so still and let me work. You must feel really full hm? I bet you’re so close.”

“Yes, Natty,” you mumble, relieved by her understanding. “So full, so close.”

Natasha unleashes a moan of her own at your whimpering agreement.

“Good girl, perfect girl,” she praises again, her own voice becoming a little more desperate. “Ride for me, baby.” And she guides you, lifting you up with her hands at your hips again, letting you sink down when you choose. You’re so tired that you hold on to her shoulders, needing something to press against, hardly able to hold yourself up and prevent your body from crashing down painfully on her strap.

“Please, Natty,” you whine, tears flowing again as your legs tremble. Your body feels alight, tired but electric, sparks flying through your veins and making you twitch. “Please… gonna…”

Natasha tilts her pelvis slightly and brings you down a little firmer, pressing herself against you so your clit rubs over the bulging base of the strap.

“Cum for me, baby,” she instructs you, and your fingers fumble at the fabric of her collar, your ankles spasm against each other around her back, and you feel a gush of liquid squirt out of you, leaking out around the strap and soaking Natasha’s trousers and underwear. You gasp and babble her name as you cum, tears leaking out and getting kissed away by Natasha’s lips, as she rocks her hips against you and lets you bounce pathetically on top of her lap as you ride out your high. Eventually you slump down on top of her, breathless and exhausted, and Natasha stills her hips before you can whine from the overstimulation. She uses her thumbs to wipe the tears from your eyes and smiles at you in adoration.

“I love you, malyshka,” she tells you avidly, staring deep into your eyes as your eyelids droop.

“Love you, Natty,” you whisper hoarsely, your throat a little dry and your nose a little stuffy from the crying.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Natasha says gently, giving you a little kiss on your nose. You nod, and wrinkle your nose as she lifts you up with her hands in your armpits, the strap sliding out of you and making you shudder. “Sorry, baby,” Natasha whispers sympathetically. “I’ll be gentle; I know you’re sensitive right now.” You nod against her as she stands, still supporting your body weight in her arms as she turns you onto her hip. She moves her right hand to rest beneath your bottom, and you wrap your legs tighter round her body to help.

“It’s okay,” she reassures you. “I’ve got you.”

Natasha carries you through to the bedroom and then lays you down on the bed, giving you a kiss on the lips then trying to move away. It takes a moment before you realise what’s holding her back; when you do, you unwrap your arms from her neck, flushing at your misunderstanding. She smiles at you.

“I’ll be back in a moment, baby,” she promises you. And she gives you one last little kiss before disappearing into the en-suite. You stare at the ceiling, fighting the urge to close your eyes, knowing you’ll fall asleep if you do.

Natasha returns promptly, as promised, with a wet cloth and a glass of water. She’s taken her trousers off and removed the harness, so she’s just in her shirt and boxers.

She supports you to sit up first, then holds the cup as you sip at it, wetting your dry throat and quenching the thirst you hadn’t noticed. Then she seeks permission with her eyes before wiping your legs and centre clean once you nod. You squirm a bit at the feeling of the cloth against your clit, but Natasha is quick to clean you, and she peppers you with kisses on the thighs when she’s done, making you giggle and twitch at the ticklish, teasing feeling. Then she lies next to you, pulling you on top of her and wrapping her arms tightly around your back. You tug at her shirt and whine frustratedly.

“You want this off?” she asks you.

“Please,” you murmur, and she smiles.

“Okay, baby. I can do that for you.”

She sets you back down at her side again, then sits up in the bed and unbuttons her shirt, throwing it to the floor once it’s off. She’s left in her bra and her slightly mottled boxers, and you pout at her in disgruntlement. She rolls her eyes.

“Come on baby, that’s not how we communicate our needs,” she sighs. But she smiles then, showing you that she’s teasing. She takes off her underwear finally, throws it to the floor then crawls over you to peel your skirt off and lift the crop top off over your head. You cling to her then, sighing contentedly against her skin.

“Better, baby?” Natasha asks, though she must know the answer from the way you relax against her.

“Mmm,” you hum happily. You lie side by side a bit, Natasha’s left leg hooked over your body, curling round the back of your knees. It gives a comforting weight, letting you sink deeper into the mattress. You stroke her forearms as she holds your cheeks, watching your eyelids flutter.

“You can sleep, malyshka,” she tells you; but there’s something you want to do first. You nuzzle your head forward, burying in towards her chest. You glance up for permission then, when she smiles, you plant a series of kisses on her sternum, then the sides of her breasts. Natasha moans quietly, appreciatively. You lick her left nipple, swirling your tongue around in a circle, then flicking at it rhythmically.

“Yes, baby…” she groans. You kiss around it then, teasing her a little before you encase her nipple between your lips and suck gently. You can feel Natasha shuddering beneath you, and you suck a little harder, pressing your teeth teasingly against her soft skin.

“Malyshka…” Natasha’s voice is strangled. She scrabbles about, finding your hand then pushing it urgently down towards her thighs. You grin against her breast, and stroke the sensitive skin of her thighs with your fingers, deftly avoiding her centre as you suck her nipple a little harder.

“Please,” Natasha moans, “don’t tease me, baby. Be a good girl and make mama happy.”

Your cheeks feel ablaze at her words and your core tingles anew. Natasha’s never referred to herself as such before; it’s only ever slipped from your lips, much to your embarrassment. You always thought she wasn’t a fan, by the way she stuck firmly to Natty whenever she referred to herself in third-person during scenes. But now she has used it, right when she sounds so desperate, and so close to her peak.

“Yes, mama,” you whisper, and you find her folds with your fingers and dip in between, pressing two fingers against her glistening hole and sliding in with ease.

“Oh…” gasps Natasha. “Yes, baby, that’s it. Pump in and out now. Good girl.” You follow her instructions eagerly, proud to be prompting such sweet sounds from her lips, the moans and the gasps as your fingers curl into the spongy spot that makes her twitch.

“Yes, oh god — yes,” Natasha cries out. “Another finger, baby, please.”

You add a third finger diligently and continue pumping in and out of her cunt. Your wrist is beginning to ache but you are determined to bring her all the way to her unravelling, so you ignore the pain and carry on fingering her, focussing on swirling your tongue around her nipple and alternating it with sucks and kisses, driving her wild.

Natasha’s moans and cries become more and more desperate and you feel her walls beginning to squeeze your digits. Quickly you wriggle downwards, planting kisses on her stomach on your way, then you bury your mouth atop her clit and suck sloppily as your fingers continue to fight against her growing resistance, pumping in and out and curling into her g-spot.

“Oh, oh, baby… yes…” Natasha whimpers, and she falls over the edge, her legs spasming and her thighs trapping your wrist and face harshly between strong muscles. You do your best to keep up your ministrations, even though it’s hard to breathe between the powerful grip of her orgasm. Eventually, her legs relax a little and she grabs for you, motioning for you to join her. You crawl up, waiting until her eyes meet yours before sticking the three fingers which were inside her into your mouth and sucking them clean, your eyelids fluttering at her musky scent and taste. Natasha moans at the sight.

“Oh fuck, malyshka — you’re so perfect.”

You grin happily as you remove your now clean fingers, then lie down on top of her, your breasts flush against each other. She finds your lips and kisses you deeply, swirling her tongue about your mouth to find her taste in you and curling her fingers into your hair.

You sigh peacefully as she lets you go, and she turns you over so you’re lying beside her on the bed. Natasha strokes your cheek and holds your hand.

“Sleep now, malyshka,” she tells you quietly. “I’ll still be here when you wake, I promise.”

You look into her green eyes, tuck your hand under your chin and close your eyelids, a blissful smile on your lips as you slip away.

↑ (Me after posting smut for the first time, contemplating all my life choices)

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