#resin-lips
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365filmsbyauroranocte · 1 month ago
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Videodrome comparison!
We made this sculpture with all the love and admiration possible for Cronenberg and his body horror. Take a look by clicking here!
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gmanmedias · 5 months ago
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💽 💽 💽
💚 💚 💚
💾 💾 💾
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systimming · 12 days ago
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Sailor Moon board with pink + blue stims!
- Mod Primarina.
((Sources of gifs: x, x, x | x, x, x | x, x, x ))
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fromthedust · 8 months ago
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DREAMS STERLING - silver-leafed stoneware
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ANISE - dyed stoneware
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BELLA MACCHINA - leafed plaster with verdigris patina
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MAUD MODIFIED - W.I.P. - painted plaster
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2017 SUMMER LIPS (two views) - raw plaster & with bronze patina
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I FEEL IT - stained white stoneware
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NEDERLANDISH - unglazed Lizella earthenware
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SELE'NE: WARM NIGHT SEA - plaster, metallic paint with patina
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KHALIAH - shoe polished Lizella earthenware
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BLUE SATE #2 - bronze powdered plaster with patina
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LITTLE PUCKER - gold-leafed resin casting
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SIGHS IN THE WIND - cast paper, stained
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DAUGHTER OF CHAOS - cast bronze, liver of sulphur patina
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JUNGLE RED - frit cast glass
Some detail views of various lip sculptures in different materials, different finishes — all shown except BLUE SATE are generally life-size, though I FEEL IT, NEDERLANDISH, and LITTLE PUCKER are child-size mouths.
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troxlerfx · 8 months ago
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a bunch of old practice sculptures i made molds & did test cast after test cast of... more or less got the hang of it!! i love doing the diseased eldritch cameos, & mitosis button is maybe my favorite silly thing i have made. some of them glow!
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la-la-lavandee · 2 years ago
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Remember to take your meds!
x - x - x / x - x - x / x - x - x
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trinkettes · 9 months ago
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by now it must be over 15 years since I bought this and wanted to try doing the faceup myself, I'm finally old enough to go "actually it's fine to just paint watercolours on top what's already there who cares if it rubs off or stains"
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biteofcherry · 10 months ago
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Hardwood
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Bad Moon Rising Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Alpha Ari Levinson x omega female reader; shifter!Ari Levinson x shifter!reader
summary: Though you knew your heat is nearing, the way it hits you in the morning and how you act is very unexpected.
warnings: primal kink; breeding kink; mating cycles; heat; knotting; unprotected sex; dirty talk;
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The bed seemed warmer than usual as you stirred from your sleep. Your hand on the vacant spot right next to you, where Ari should be sleeping, trailed after the imprint of his presence.
That he was out of bed before you wasn’t a novelty; though Ari liked to be the one waking you up with his wandering hands and mouth, more often he was up on his feet, preparing for the day - and making you breakfast.
His scent was quite strong as you took a long, deep breath that stretched into a yawn. Fresh pine and resin, reminding of taking a stroll through the woods. 
Perhaps he got out of bed just moments ago. 
Though usually you stayed in bed a bit longer, your consciousness snapped to functionality and your body was rousing with eagerness to find your mate. 
Had to be the hunger, you told yourself as you donned on a washed-out t-shirt and silk, pink pajama shorts. One of Ari’s best traits as a mate was the fact he made hearty, delicious breakfasts. He had zero patience for washing the dishes and often annoyed you with how carelessly he did them, but he made up in the cooking department. 
Your head filled with all the tasty options that Ari could be cooking as you padded downstairs and into the kitchen. However, the moment you stepped inside, your brain lost its track of thought. 
The sight of Ari moving around the kitchen in tight jeans (belt unbuckled and clinking as he moved) and nothing else wasn’t shocking. It was a norm - Ari’s slutty exhibitionistic wardrobe choices. And yes, you always allowed yourself to ogle, since his sinfully hot body was all yours to admire and crave. 
But there was something different with the view he presented this time, or rather your reaction was different. 
Watching Ari in his clothes was enough to turn you on, seeing him half naked had a stronger effect, but the whole process of arousal was a fire slowly growing from smaller flames. This time your whole body snapped to attention immediately. 
If it wasn’t obvious to you that Ari is the center of your wolf’s rapid focus, you’d suspect she sensed danger; that she tensed your muscles and sharpened your senses to react to a possible threat. 
You knew Ari was aware of you coming down the stairs and walking into the kitchen, you wouldn’t be surprised if he sensed that you woke up, but it was the tiny changes in your breathing that made him pause and look up. 
When his blue eyes met yours, your body reacted with a gush of slick.
Ari straightened slowly. Each inch he gained as he stretched to his full height thrummed through your body with a jolt of arousal. He reached to the side and turned off the coffee maker, then pushed the pan off the stove.
“What are you doing?” You asked, voice a little shaky as you licked your lips. 
“Postponing breakfast, since it’s obvious your heat won’t wait any moment longer,” Ari replied. Though his words were on the amusing side, the drop in his tone betrayed how affected his own wolf was. 
You didn’t deny his assessment. There was no point playing coy, or lying. Not when the craving increased with each passing second.
Your toes curled as you considered simply jumping Ari right there. Then your gaze flicked to the door leading outside into the backyard, a thought of running away with the thrill of adding more adrenaline before your Alpha pins you down and knots your needy cunt.  
“Don’t.” Ari’s warning growl turned your nipples painfully stiff.
Your gaze obediently returned to him. Neither of you moved, the tension grew unbearable as you seized each other up. 
“You like the chase.” You countered, feeling your heartbeat accelerate in excitement. 
“I do. But my omega is in heat and no one is allowed to even get a whiff of that maddening, sweet scent.”
Ari’s possessiveness often irked you, leading to a few loud arguments in the past. You knew it wouldn’t change, not with how close to the surface Ari’s wolf was all the time. Definitely not with his position of an Alpha, which meant that as his mate you were also a tool of power and he wouldn’t allow anyone to challenge him by poaching you.
At the moment, however, there was something deeply satisfying in his desire to keep you for himself only. 
You knew it wasn’t your wolf - that bitch was already in a presenting position whining for the Alpha to take her - it was your human side, the teasing and stubborn streak of humanity that made you take those fast steps toward the door anyway.  
You didn’t even manage to touch the doorknob. 
Large hand gripped the front of your neck, yanking you back into a wall of muscles. 
Ari’s other arm tightened around you, caging your arms at your sides. His fingers curled tighter, pressing into your carotids and threatening to cut off your airflow. If anything, it only made your clit throb harder.
You snarled, trying to wiggle out of his hold. Futily. You weren’t even able to shake your head an inch. There was never a chance of going against Ari’s strength. 
Ari kicked your feet apart and wedged his leg between them. Your hips rocked against his thigh desperately, silk bottoms sticking to your folds as you drenched at the mere friction his leg provided.   
“Are you going to behave and let me take you to our bed?” Ari grunted, bouncing his leg slightly and making you moan. “Or do you want me to push you down here like a needy bitch in heat?”
You were horny before. You were in heat before. Many times. All those experiences seemed bland compared to the despair you felt. That need burst into a blaze in such a short time, that desire was mixing with irritation and evoking more impatient snarls from you.
When you tilted your head and bared your teeth at Ari, he snapped. 
He bent your neck to the side and sank his teeth into your skin; your whine of pain turned into a little yip as you went pliant in his arms. 
“Bitch in heat it is,” he growled, retracting his teeth. 
Ari forced you down, not that you were struggling much anymore. He got you onto your hands and knees on the hardwood kitchen floor. His grip moved from the front of your neck to the back of it, holding you by the nape as he slapped your ass hard. Once. Twice. 
Then with a single yank he ripped off your shorts, tossing the soiled, pink garment in front of you, so you could see how soaked through they were. 
Heats always came with copious fluids, but - as with desire itself - it built up in hours. Heat with Ari proved to go from zero to hundred in nanoseconds. 
Without prompting, you spread your legs wider and arched your back. Not only was your clit pulsing, but your folds did too, filled with blood and dripping slick. You pushed your hips back, soundlessly pleading for the stretch of your Alpha’s cock. 
“Good omega,” Ari praised as you presented. “That’s it. Open up for the fat cock that you crave so much.” 
He ran his fingers on the inside of your thigh, which was sticky with your juices, then slid them between your swollen folds. He didn’t tease you long, just a few strokes and then he was positioning himself behind you. 
A pleased chirp at the stretch of the head of his cock pushing into your tight hole almost turned into a whine when Ari paused. But it was for a fleeting second, as he changed his grip to use both hands to grab your shoulders. 
Then he slammed into you brutally, the force jerking you forward. 
Ari’s strokes were languid, but purposeful, matching that primal hunger that melted away your humanity and left mostly the animal in charge. Though you still instinctively attempted to scramble away from the hard, merciless fucking, Ari’s hold on your shoulders prevented it. 
The swirls of conflicting thoughts in your head dispersed, replaced by the sole focus on feeling. And chasing that frantic urgency to come. Your body was tuning in with the animalistic taking. Soon your hips were swaying back eagerly to meet each quickening thrust.
As remnants of instinctive fight left you and you gave in to nature's demand, Ari changed his hold on you. Pinning grip on your shoulders shifted, hands moving onto your hips instead to give him better leverage as he pounded you harder. At some point your arms wobbled and you fell forward, bracing your eight on your forearms.
Slight change in position tilted your hips up, allowing Ari’s cock a new angle that fucked the breath out of your chest and caused stars to burst beneath your eyelids. 
You came with a long cry; your walls spasming tight around him. Squelching sounds matched the volume of slapping skin, only barely drowned out by Ari’s growls and staccato of your moans. 
“So fucking tight.” Ari huffed. “Your greedy little pussy’s so desperate to milk every drop out of me.” 
He draped his massive body over you, hands splayed right next to yours as he rutted into you. He almost stopped withdrawing, rocking his length deeper and deeper, and you felt the stretch start to build up. 
“This what you wanted so much, huh?” Ari grazed his teeth over your shoulder, snapping his hips forward.
“Yes!” You keened, impatient for his knot to inflate. 
“I know, my little omega,” he kissed the spot he just teased with his teeth, “I can sense that urge to be filled with my cum thrumming through your body.”
You were shaking at this point, thighs quivering as buildup to another climax heightened. It could happen any moment now, but something held it off, as if you were waiting for something specific. Something special. 
It could only be one thing.
“My wolf is so proud that you want to have his pups,” Ari was mouthing along your skin, words unclear the more he nipped and kissed. “But I’d fuck you even if you resisted that need-” his teeth sank deeper as his thrusts grew frantic- “because babies or not, there’s no better fucking feeling than cumming in your pussy and locking you on my knot!”
A second later Ari’s teeth pierced your skin and his knot inflated; spurts of thick, warm cum filling you. 
Momentarily, your whole body seized as your own orgasm hit full force. 
Stronger than before, since your body was finally given what it craved more and responded to each splash of your mate’s cum. The stretch of knot provided stimulation as well, keeping you on that precipice of constant arousal. 
A bit of blood trickled down where Ari bit you, but you paid it no attention, more focused on your Alpha’s comforting heaviness and all the cum that was filling your womb. 
He groaned his own pleasure, trailing his lips tinted with your blood along your back. Irritated with the scrap of fabric he didn’t get rid of before, Ari ripped it off sharply, tossing what used to be a t-shirt aside. His mouth instantly returned to peppering kisses between your shoulder blades and one of his hands cupped your breast.
“These will fill up with milk soon, to feed our pups.” As he squeezed, your pussy fluttered. Or perhaps it was his words and the still pouring cum. 
“You’ll be so responsive.” Ari hummed in delight. “Your tits are going to be so sensitive and leaking,” he pinched your nipple between his fingers and your clit throbbed in sync.
He played with your other breast before trailing his hand south, to where your abdomen grew taut as more of his cum stuffed your womb. 
“Feeling heavy with my seed?” 
Ari splayed his fingers over the slight swell and pressed. Which caused a whole new wave of sensations that wrecked your body with tremors, stirring heat’s hunger anew.
“F-uck!” A curse bubbled out of your mouth, along with hoarse admission- “Yes, Ari! Feels so fucking good.”
It did. You didn’t even try to comprehend if it was the hormone induced haze of the heat, or the animal side of you, or maybe it simply felt so fucking good to be filled with cum so much. You simply delighted in it. Craved more, too.
“You’ll get more.” Ari nipped your ear. 
“And you will swell with it.” His growl stimulated your wolf, but also your human side reacted to it. “You’ll carry me a litter, omega. One after another.” 
Again, your walls clenched. A small, needy whimper left your lips.
“I see you like the idea.” Ari chuckled, slipping his fingers lower. “Like to be bred by your mate, ‘mega?”
“Nghh, yes!” You bucked against him as his fingertips touched your swollen clit.
“Good girl, omega.” He kissed a spot right behind your ear. 
“Now come for your Alpha one more time, so your womb drowns in more of my cum,” he started rubbing circles and wicked eights on your clit. “Then I’ll take you to the bedroom. Keep you all cosy and comfortable while you work your greedy cunt to earn another knot.” 
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365filmsbyauroranocte · 13 days ago
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Videodrome sculpture!
You can find it here!
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gmanmedias · 6 months ago
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🦀 🦀 🦀
🍬 🍬 🍬
❤️ ❤️ ❤️
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systimming · 8 months ago
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Monster High board!
- Mod Valarie.
((Sources of gifs: x, x, x | x, x, x | x, x, x ))
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fromthedust · 7 months ago
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SHAYE'S MELLOW - frontal view
SHAYE'S MELLOW - oblique view
SHAYE'S MELLOW - detail view of gold iridescent black glass element fitted into the aluminum-leafed resin casting (note some of the red primer showing through some cracks in the leafing)
SHAYE'S MELLOW - detail view of rainbow iridescent transparent amber glass element fitted into the slate (note the transparency on the right-hand side of the glass where it overhangs the slate)
SHAYE'S MELLOW - detail view of leafed lip element with four coats of tinted acrylic lacquer
SHAYE'S MELLOW - detail view of lips (the dark specks are incompletely-mixed pigments from the tinting process — I like the effect it gives)
aluminum leafed resin casting, green Connemara slate, iridescent slumped glass, tinted acrylic lacquer
Finally got around to finishing it. When I posted it as w.i.p. back in March I said it had taken eleven hours at that point and I estimated about four more hours to finish it. It actually took eight hours to finish it — the fitting of the small piece of glass into the resin casting (which I'd never done before — softer is not necessarily easier) took about three times as long as fitting larger glass to the slate. The tinted acrylic lacquer took four coats (instead of one) to achieve the color I wanted on the silver.
The title refers to Shaye Cohn's mellow tones on the cornet. Shaye is the leader of the New Orleans based jazz band TUBA SKINNY which I have listened-to for over a dozen years in recordings. In their first two albums she blew the trumpet, but by the band's third album she had switched to an old silver-plated cornet providing a much sweeter and mellower sound. The lips in the sculpture are about the same color as her instrument.
Shaye Cohn (American, b.1982) — daughter of jazz guitarist Joe Cohn, and granddaughter of jazz saxophonist Al Cohn. She also plays trombone and/or piano when she is with other jazz bands.
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astraystayyh · 4 months ago
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a million little stars
snippets of your relationship with minho. tooth-rooting fluff. they’re so in love your honor!!!!!!!!! (minho is drunk in two scenes but HE’S ADORABLE)
this is for my baby @rachalixie,,, happy (very late) birthday my star HOW LUCKY I AM TO KNOW YOU 😭
please consider donating to our stayblr fundraiser for gaza!! we are so so close to raising 5000 dollars for palestine!
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Your hands tremble like autumn leaves as you press them to Minho’s cheeks. His eyes are glossed over as if dipped into resin, his face flushed like hibiscus petals. You're unsure if it’s from the cold or the three bottles of soju before him.
“What are you doing? Are you okay?” you quickly ask, pulling the chair in front of him. The grocery store’s light reflects off his face, red and blue dancing across his pupils like flames in a fireplace.
A lazy smile forms on his lips as he blinks at the sound of your voice. Your name escapes his lips faintly, as if he’s in awe over the fact that you’re really there.
“Don’t we have classes tomorrow? And you have dance practice too. Why are you getting so drunk?” you chastise, pulling the bottle from his grasp. He lets you, laying his cheek on his arm, his eyes never leaving yours.
“Minho? Won’t you answer me?” you giggle slightly, and he blinks, the grin spreading across his face like sun rays stretching across the sky.
“Did I think of you so much you suddenly appeared in front of me?” he whispers, and your heart thrashes around your ribcage only to plummet to your knees.
You met Minho in one of your psychology classes, and then at the grocery store near your home. That’s how you found out you live only three minutes apart. Minho started walking you home after class, and you attended his dance practices in return. That’s how your crush came to life.
An unrequited love, you long thought.
Now, not so much. You dare hope.
“You think of me?” you whisper, and he nods, his lips forming into a huge pout. Your eyes soften like clay at the sight.
You didn’t know Minho became this adorable when drunk. Truthfully, there are lots of things you still don’t know about him, though your infatuation feels as if it has inhabited your soul for years.
“Ah, Yn-aaah,” he suddenly drawls out, grabbing the end of your chair and pulling you closer. He does it so effortlessly it leaves you dizzy for a few seconds.
“Why are you sooo pretty, huh?” he mumbles, placing his chin on his palm.
“You’re drunk. I look like a mess right now,” you shake your head slightly, your blush now mirroring his.
“No, no, no,” he contradicts vehemently. You blink, and his face is suddenly inches away from yours. “See, your eyes… your nose…” His finger traces your features as he names them. “Your cheeks… and your lips.” His thumb grazes your lower lip, and suddenly, you’re the one who’s drunk off of his touch.
He brightens up, dropping his hand and placing his forehead on the table. “Pretty, so so pretty.”
“And then you kept mumbling about how pretty I am till I got you to your dorm,” you giggle, and Minho huffs slightly. He’s acting cool, but his ears betray him, turning a scorching red as you recount the night you found him drunk and alone, two months ago.
“I mean, did I lie? You are pretty,” he mumbles through a pout, one that you quickly kiss away. His lips taste of sugar and love— you dare to hope the grand feeling is reciprocated.
“You also kept yelling my name so loud that someone looked out of their window—” He silences you now, your lips struggling to meet as a fit of giggles overtakes you.
“Shh, let me kiss you,” he smiles against your lips, and you nod, sliding your hand across his jaw. His fingers graze your arm as your mouths meet again and again, and soon you’re no longer sure how much time has passed since you last spoke.
He breaks away first, the tip of his nose grazing your cheek. He brings you onto his lap, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Your apartment is quiet for a little while, the only sound being your synced breathing.
It’s so comforting to be in his hold, to feel his strong arms wrap around your waist, his perfume cocooning your soul. You’ve liked Minho for so long that getting to embrace him still feels like a dream, even after two months of dating.
“I love you,” he suddenly whispers, and a rush of adrenaline courses through your veins at his words, butterflies flapping their wings in your stomach at how gentle he sounds.
“What?” you pull away slightly, finding him blinking furiously, a slight blush tinting his cheeks.
“I love you,” he repeats, slightly louder this time, his hands cupping your cheeks securely, safely. “I really love you.”
You feel as if the entire universe is suddenly singing within your heart.
“Minho,” you whine slightly, trying to shake him off, but he doesn’t budge.
“Baby, I really have to pee,” you chuckle, but he shakes his head, pushing his entire weight atop you.
“Warm,” he mumbles.
“Yeah, because you’re suffocating me.”
“So my love is suffocating?” he scoffs loudly, pushing himself off you. “Do you hear that, Soonie?” he turns to the orange cat near your head. “Can you believe it?”
“If Soonie could speak, she’d complain about your sleep-talking,” you joke, placing a quick peck on the tip of his nose. It was one of Minho’s most endearing traits, one that you discovered since you moved in together, a few weeks ago.
“You have two minutes,” he narrows his eyes at you, “or else I’ll terrorize you while you pee.”
“You’re crazy,” you shake your head, but your smile says otherwise. It warms your heart to think that someone loves your presence so much that they’d come to crave it first thing in the morning.
You’re back in bed exactly one minute and forty-seven seconds later (courtesy of Minho’s counting). He’s quick to wrap you in his arms, your back nestled perfectly against his chest.
“You smell good,” you compliment, placing tiny kisses on the arm wrapped around your middle. You grin, recognizing hints of your soap. You smile wider when you spot goosebumps raising across his skin.
“So do you,” he mumbles into your hair. It’s the last you both speak for a few minutes. The only sounds in the room are Soonie’s occasional tired mewls and the curtains swaying before the open window.
Sounds of home.
“Honey,” Minho suddenly calls out, and you open your eyes to find a dainty necklace dangling before you. The initial M reflects the filtering sunlight.
“I’m a bit possessive,” he says, placing a sweet kiss on your shoulder. “Need everyone to know you are mine.”
“You’re very cute,” you smile softly, brushing your hair away from your shoulder. His lips graze your bare skin as he clasps the necklace in place.
“It looks good on you,” he compliments, spinning you around to look at you. “Thank you for giving me a home,” he whispers, before scattering kisses along your collarbone— they remind you of dewdrops falling atop petals at dawn, eager to reunite after a long night apart.
“Thank you for coming,” Chan smiles sheepishly as you stand before their table. You quickly give him a side-hug before kneeling in front of Minho.
“Is he okay?” you ask worriedly, rubbing warmth into his hands. Chan shakes his head, placing his jacket over Minho’s shoulders.
“Yeah, he just didn’t want to get into the car. He kept asking for you.”
“He’s very strong even when he’s drunk,” you giggle knowingly, memories of four years past surfacing. Back when Minho was just a crush who called you pretty while drunk.
Now he’s everything to you.
“I’ll be in the car. Just convince him to get in, please,” Chan whines, and you chuckle, sending him a thumbs-up.
“Baby,” you whisper, grazing Minho’s cheeks with your knuckles. His eyes, still glossy, peer at you, a million little stars finding refuge within their depths.
“I want Yn,” he mumbles, closing his eyes again.
“Honey, I’m Yn,” you explain while laughing, peering at him from underneath. He squints one eye at you, a small smile forming on his lips.
“Fine,” he stands up suddenly, tripping on his own two feet. You quickly hold him as his forehead rests atop your shoulder.
“Yn… I’m hiding something from my girlfriend,” he whispers, attempts to, in his drunken state. Your heart catches in your chest as you tread carefully, running your fingers through his hair.
“What is it, baby?” you ask.
“I will propose to her next week.”
“Oh,” you gasp softly, your hold on him growing limp. “Will you?”
“Yes, but it’s a secret,” he brings his finger to his lips, making a shushing motion. “Don’t tell anyone.”
You break out in loud giggles. Chan sends you a quizzical look when he spots the radiant smile across your lips— it’s only a reflection of the sun that has lodged itself into your heart.
Minho lays his head atop your lap on the drive back home. Your soul exhales in content as you gaze at your pretty Minho, your lovely Minho.
“Baby,” you whisper in his ear. He hums sweetly in response.
“Can I tell you a secret in return?” you ask and he nods eagerly. “Your girlfriend will say yes. And she loves you” sudden tears of gratitude well in your eyes, “more than she could ever express.”
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persicipen · 3 days ago
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₊ ˙ ⊹ . 𝓑𝒆𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓𝒔. ALHAITHAM. KAVEH ₊ ˙ ⊹ .
ৎ୭ — · · 1.6k ノ afab gn reader — visiting them in their office and ending up spread open on their desk. semi public space. no one is getting caught. oral with kaveh — reader receiving. established relationship ノ fontaine version here!
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₊ ˙ ⊹ . ALHAITHAM ノ
For him, it’s a simple deduction. A reasonable consequence to the outcome of you arriving in his office with the intention of teasing him. The wet glide of his shaft is an almost perfect match, piercing you deep and rhythmically, chasing that burning bliss of ecstasy.
Already fucked silly, you tremble on the desk, feeling your essence dripping down your thighs. The sixth sense in you rouses goosebumps at the obvious, prickling sensation of Alhaitham smirking behind you — in almost a nonchalant way, enjoying the view he was working on so eagerly these past minutes.
“Turn around. I want to see your face,” he commands, his low voice raspy, barely containing that he’s just as affected by the hot air that brims with excitement between your bodies.
A languid roll of your form follows, and you spread your legs, inviting him between them, waiting for him to settle where you need him the most. He towers over you like a pillar of fortitude, a stellar man that you could stare at for years and never get bored with his beauty, so enchanted by the dark blush blooming on his cheeks that you almost forget to react when he presses his fat tip against your entrance.
Oh, he’s pretty desperate, his movement ragged and only in the last moment holding off just to smear more of your arousal along his shaft. A precaution. He snaps his hips and enters you swiftly, relishing in the cosiness of your welcoming heat.
“Mhm, love, you’re always so good to me,” he purrs in a husky tone, words hissed through the clenched teeth as the muscles on his jaw flex. “You’re such a welcomed distraction, aren’t you? Coming to my office just when I was getting bored with the paperwork.”
“F-feels so nice,” you answer with a weak voice, wrapping your legs around his waist and inviting him further to become one, skin clinging to skin like glued with resin.
Moans bitten back with a nibble on the lips echo through the tight proximity of your embrace, accompanied by the sound of his pelvis hitting yours — the sloppy plap plap plap embarrassingly erotic.
An unusual behaviour to see him that needy, bordering impatience to sink into your dewy core, all to your happy giggles and cut-out mewls. He leans down, burying his face in the crook of your neck, breathing heavily the scent of your perfumes (the ones he loves the most on your skin) and leaving mint-flavoured kisses all over your clavicles.
Just a moment later, he lifts himself and straightens his back, grabbing your knees and pulling you towards him. You gasp at the change of position, manoeuvred near the edge of his desk whilst his cock drives into you deeper, delectably overwhelming, a shy kiss to your womb.
The wooden legs squeak underneath, a warning to not go overboard the limits of the poor furniture. But how can he control himself when you look like the incarnation of sensual sin laid bare right in front of him?
Your eyes shine brighter than the hazy sun behind the stained glass windows, framed with eyelashes that flutter from every jolt that reverberates through your bodies.
Alhaitham presses his lips against yours, not kissing, just panting into your mouth; his breath tastes like freshly brewed coffee, and the mint leaves you saw him chewing on earlier. He grips your waist, tugging you on and off his cock in long thrusts, letting you feel every pulsing vein of his hardness with an impassioned vigour.
In your sweetest dreams, you wish you could take him always and forever, if only not for your body unable to store such intense pleasure. You whine in protest at his mercy, impaling yourself in a trance onto his swollen erection, continuing the sloppy dance that entangles you both in a shared desire.
“Lookin’ beautiful, you know?” His words, ornate with sincerity and tenderness, make you focus for a mere second on his voice before the pace of his hips sends you back into blissful dullness. “Taking me so well.”
You whimper at his compliment, at the way he looks at you, his gaze mellow like Padisarah flowers. A contrast to his rushed actions — actions that will leave you all sore for the remainder of the day, for sure.
If it hadn’t been for the unwavering support of Alhaitham’s sturdy arms, you already would have melted in a puddle on the surface of his desk. Every time you glance downwards, your clit throbs painfully at the sight of his cock entering you in such a cogent way. Intermingled juices ease its passage, glistening trails sticking to your inner thighs as you take the most out of the forced proximity of being stuck between the paperwork and the scribe.
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₊ ˙ ⊹ . KAVEH ノ
The very sweet sensation of being handled, a refined mannerism like he’s trying to understand the principles of your figure, was one of the many reasons you fell in love with Kaveh. The warmth of his hands burns through your skin, sending a rush of lust pulsing through your veins. He takes his time, leaning in to inhale the sweet scent of your arousal before dipping his head down and pressing his lips against your soft folds. He can already feel his mouth watering at the sight of your pussy uncovered in front of him.
It never ceases to amaze him how it affects him, how wet you can get at the chance of spending time with him — how each little flick of his tongue causes a tiny ripple of pleasure that pulses through your core.
“Why do we always end up like this?” You ask as your body arches up, trying to align your clit with his kisses, but his lips are too delicate.
“You’re irresistible.”
“Enough to ignore the work on your desk?”
“You’re the only work on my desk that I care about now.” Sun-kissed cheeks flush red from his exertions, sweat clinging to his brow, dark eyelashes fanning his cheekbones while he holds his arms out to support himself on the large surface of his workshop table. “I can’t wait to feel you come again,” he mumbles, his voice deep and husky from eating you out just a few minutes ago. “One or two projects can wait until we’re finished, right?”
The watery muscle swirls over your bundle of nerves, suckling on it until you are gasping and writhing underneath him. Just how he loves you, completely at bliss, a sheen layer of rosy satisfaction beaming from your silhouette like another perfect arch he would love to include in his sketched-out plans. You moan softly, reaching out to touch his face, your palms brushing over his silky golden hair. It is messy and wild from your earlier liaison, thick locks framing his long face and shadowing his ruby eyes. Weaving his fingers with yours, his hand comes up to grip yours as he dives anew into your heat, a starved man at the oasis.
The dim rays of the fading sun can only slightly illuminate the mess that is his office — especially after how long you and Kaveh have been tangled together in here.
But, by the archons, he swears that nothing else matters right now, besides his beloved muse coming undone underneath him. The erotic sounds of your laboured breathing are music to his ears. Your nails scratching the smooth surface of his worktable only make his cock twitch against the fabric of his pants.
You had walked in with an innocent desire to bring him lunch and something to drink. He always forgets about such things when deep in thoughts. And Kaveh is always working, not that you mind because you love seeing him doing what he loves. In your eyes, he is so beautifully talented. No matter what it is, he could always find a way to master it. He has such a natural gift for creation that you find yourself endlessly attracted to.
However, the way he had tugged you closer, after greeting you with a kiss on your forehead, alerted you enough to know there’s something else on his mind regarding your visit.
A not so innocent desire, that was.
“Kaveh!” you whine, your voice breaking with the upcoming release. You are so sensitive right now that your legs shake with each kitten lick on your pearl. “Please, please!”
Mouth occupied, yet he smiles softly as he looks up from between your thighs. With the light touch, your stomach contracts in anticipation, tingling fingertips trying to untangle from the held hands, but to no avail. Your hips cant up off the table to meet his mouth, desperate for more contact, for more pleasure. And Kaveh, being the amiable man he is, leans in closer and lock your legs in place over his shoulders.
Pinpricks of tears sparkle at the corners of your eyes and you desperately try to find something to focus on while he savours you like a delectable meal. From experience, you know that there is no stopping him. Once determined to make you come, he will only let go once it has happened.
A white-hot fever falls on your face and you open your mouth to protest, but the only thing that escapes is a broken moan when his nose flicks against your mons. Oh. His tongue slides back down to the opening of your cunt, twirling around the wetness there. A bead of slick trails from the tip when he pulls away, eyes glinting with mischievous intent.
Following the droplet as he relishes in your scent, drawing the sweetness into his mouth until he has to force himself to swallow — unwilling to let go.
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puck-luck · 4 months ago
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football fiesta | quinn hughes
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warnings: rough sex, unprotected p in v, oral m!receiving, public sex, dirty talk pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader request: tailgate!quickie with Quinn wc: 1002
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You knew from the second you looked in the mirror this morning that your outfit would be a problem for Quinn. It was the first Michigan football game of the year and Quinn was determined to enjoy his day– as were you. You were dressing this way because you knew you looked good and you liked to look good, not to draw Quinn’s eyes and start something. You certainly hadn’t meant to tease him with your tight tube top and pleated skirt, but after you had bent down to pick up your drink during the first quarter, Quinn had dragged you to an empty bathroom in a back corner of the stadium. You didn’t know that football stadiums could have empty bathrooms– Quinn might just be the luckiest man alive. 
His grip on your arm is tight, fingers digging into your skin. The door to the bathroom slams behind you and Quinn pushes you toward the sink. He crowds behind you, hand curving around the back of your neck. 
You watch Quinn in the mirror above the sink, the dingy, tiny mirror whose edges are chipped from years of wear. His glare is lethal. He’s got one thing on his mind and you’re helpless to deny him– not that you’d want to, anyway. 
He bends you over the sink, the cold resin against your stomach making you flinch. Quinn pays little mind to your movement, but his fingers unfurl from their place around your neck and he slides his palm down your back. He traces your spine, gaze following his hand’s path. His eyes barely soften, but they do– only overtaken by the lust and determination that you recognize so well. 
He reaches down and flips your skirt up, dipping his fingers between the globes of your ass to pet over the fabric of your thong. His touch is insistent and you shiver when he passes over your asshole, which makes him chuckle. It’s the tiniest moment of reprieve before Quinn’s expression darkens again.
“You’re playing with fire,” he mutters, fingers dipping lower and shifting your panties to the side before retreating. He brings his hand to his pants, popping his button and dragging the zipper down. “Dressing like this in front of me, in front of everybody.”
“Just want to look pretty,” you reply, a moan already leaving your lips as Quinn taps the head of his cock to your entrance, teasing you. 
“You look very pretty,” Quinn agrees, rubbing his tip up and down your slit. He bumps your clit, nudging the bundle of nerves until you whine out a plea. “Too pretty.”
“Quinn,” you say, pushing your hips back into his length. “C’mon. We’re in public.”
“Mm, you’re right, baby,” Quinn hums. “This little reminder has to be quick.”
Like an exclamation point, Quinn forces himself inside of you in one thrust, almost immediately pulling back around and repeating the motion. His hands are planted on your hips, keeping your skirt out of the way and pulling you into him. Your hips meet his with every thrust and your eyes are rolling in their sockets. You’re completely overwhelmed with the pressure.
When your head drops, your mouth hanging open in an inaudible series of moans, Quinn lifts a hand and grabs a handful of your hair. He yanks, tugging your head back in a sharp movement that has you whimpering and choking on your breath. Your eyes find Quinn in the mirror– he’s already looking at you.
“Watch me,” Quinn commands, his voice hard. His breath is even and his thrusts are hard, never pausing, never stopping. You mentally thank any higher being out there for his athletic ability, for his stamina. It’s served you so well in the past and now, he’s going to draw an orgasm out of you faster than he ever has before. “Watch me fuck you, baby. Everyone is looking at you in your pretty little outfit, but you’re all mine. You belong to me. I’m the only one who fucks you, even if all the other men out there want to.”
His name falls from your lips, his dirty words making you clench down on his cock.
Quinn reaches around your body and his fingertips circle your clit. You wail, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but they never close. You watch Quinn the whole time, just like he asked. You capture the smug smirk pulling at his lips, the sliver of his teeth appearing as his smile grows. You take in the knowling glare in his eyes, staring straight into your wild ones as his hips continue to piston his cock into your heat.
Your vision shakes as you come, your entrance squeezing Quinn like a vice. He groans and his expression contorts into a grimace, holding off so he doesn’t make a mess of your pussy the way he wants to. He draws out of your warmth, fixing your panties and flipping your skirt down. His hand stays on his cock the whole time, stroking himself to stay teetering along that peak. 
He pushes your hip, making you turn around, and as if through an instinct, you drop to your knees. The proud smile that overtakes Quinn’s face is reward enough, but the come that lands on your tongue once you open your mouth is something even better.
Your knees are aching against the cement floor within seconds, but you’re sure to capture every drop of come from Quinn’s tip, even licking over his slit after he’s done to ensure that nothing went to waste. 
Quinn tucks himself away and helps you to your feet, pulling you in for a sweet kiss before tucking your hair behind your ears. He reaches down and pulls your tube top up, the fabric slipping. 
“My gorgeous girl. Let’s go watch Michigan pick up another win, hm?”
With that, you return to the field. Quinn has no idea that you’re planning out the rest of your night for the rest of the game.
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crguang · 6 months ago
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lost virgins with broken wings that will regrow
You’re an ordinary person with a void in your chest. Black Swan means to fill it.
smut, afab!reader, virgin!reader, sorta stalker!black swan (im just going with canon here…) so mention of voyeurism, oral sex on both parts, fingering, overstimulation, switch!r and swan, 9.3k words and 6k of it is just smut……………
A/N: um…… i just think she’s neat.
black swan: they are such a loser, weirdo, freak, social outcast i have GOT to fuck them
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It’s under low, pulsing lights and seated between intoxicated bodies, sensual music in your ears and a half-empty drink in hand, that you feel the most alone. The irony burns your throat not unlike the alcohol you’re sluggishly sipping every five minutes as you take in the sea of strangers on the dance floor of the club rhythmically moving with the beat on the speakers.
Beside you at the bar, a couple converses lowly to themselves, staring into each other’s eyes and laughing quietly like there doesn’t exist a world beyond their intimacy. To your right, friends argue over who will be the designated driver tonight and draw from actual straws provided by one of the bartenders. The unlucky one pouts and the rest cheer before enthusiastically ordering colorful cocktails from a pink haired bartender. The bass reverberates through you, inciting you to join the sweaty bodies losing themselves in the music, but the throb of your head is louder. You feel fatigue at the corner of your eyes while you swirl the clear liquid in your glass and watch its hypnotizing movement, briefly lost in it. You tune out the drunk laughter and shameless flirting happening around you and feel the familiar sensation of your heart constricting in your chest. No one is interested in your sulking, people come and go in the seats beside you, oblivious to your inner struggle. When the feeling spreads to your lungs, forcing you to breathe in the smell of alcohol and sweat, you turn on the stool to search for your friend in the crowd. You catch a glimpse of her red hair as she sways against a tall woman with dark coily hair; she seems to be having fun, occasionally giggling when the woman bends to whisper in her ear, so you sigh and rest an arm on the bar. It was an unspoken rule that if you went clubbing together, you would either leave together or make sure the other would be sober enough to walk out the door with a stranger. You’ll give her another half hour, maybe, before ruining her night by telling her you want to go home.
“You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself,” a smooth, sultry voice sounds near you.
You smell her before you see her; strong traces of resins and dried fruit, like incense sticks burning through the air, easily overwhelm the different odors assaulting your nose from the variety of people around. The pleasant fragrance makes you pivot in your seat. A woman sits on the stool to your left and drums her gloved fingers on the counter thoughtfully, keen gaze already on you and a small, easy smile on her lips. They look bare in the low lighting, though you can discern a soft sheen on them that suggests she must have applied lipgloss not too long ago. Her thick, pale hair frames her cheeks and disappears down her back in two wavy parts that would undoubtedly reach the back of her thighs were she to stand upright. The purple veil over her head matches the color of her dress— you think it’s a dress, maybe a tight strapless top?— and the sort of stained glass accessory between her collarbones that connects her top to the lacy piece around her neck. Your first thought is that she looks out of place amongst the flimsy, provocative clothing everyone is flaunting. Your second is that she’s gorgeous, the kind you can’t help but stare at like a fool. Which you are currently doing. Her head tilts in question and you blink, remembering the words she’s spoken to you a moment earlier.
You suddenly feel shy under her gaze as you try to come up with a reply.
“I’m not,” you say, mentally cringing at your lack of tact. Your honesty seems to amuse her though, sunset eyes glimmering with mirth.
“Not your kind of scene, I presume?” She has to lean closer for you to hear each other over the music and you meet her halfway.
You shrug dismissively, not wanting to admit that being surrounded by people only made you feel terribly lonely. It would ruin the conversation, you’re not that socially inept for you to know that. “Not really, no. The drinks are nice, though.”
You can barely hear her hum as she replies, “And yet, here you are. What makes you suffer through such an unpleasant experience?”
You find her way of speaking a little odd. Evidently, she’s not from around here. You turn around to face the dance floor and her eyes follow the direction you point your chin towards.
“I’m here with her,” you gesture to the redhead cheekily grinding against the same woman from before. The sight is a little funny, despite your mood you’re glad that she’s enjoying herself.
“I see. A friend of yours?”
You nod and steal a glance at the woman beside you. Her posture is impeccably straight, chin resting in the palm of her hand while she leans an elbow on the counter, and she looks at you with a sense of familiarity that you can’t reciprocate. You’ve never met her before, you would have remembered. You’re not the type to be embarrassed by every little thing but her attentive stare makes you feel exposed, as if you’re standing in front of her with your flesh turned inside out and she could see the gross parts of you usually hidden from sight. You want to evade her gaze, if only to compose yourself, but you can’t bring yourself to. She pulls you in effortlessly with only a look and you lean towards her when she speaks up again.
“I realize I haven’t asked for your name.”
You tell her your name, having to speak a little louder to be heard over the music. She repeats it, trying the feel of it on her tongue, then her eyelids lower in appreciation, a knowing smile on her face.
You ask for hers in return and she offers a gentle hand after answering you. “I am Black Swan.”
Black Swan. An odd name, like her odd behavior and turns of phrases. She stands out like a sore thumb and doesn’t seem to care enough to try to blend in. Her politeness is endearing, so you grasp her hand to shake it half-jokingly. Her fingertips linger on your skin when you slowly pull away.
“What about you? Are you here alone?” You don’t see anyone else acknowledging her presence around you. Black Swan confirms your suspicions with a nod. “Ah. A party girl, then.”
Her quiet laugh is beautiful, low and velvety. It makes you suppress a smile. The music blasting through the speakers is now much more energetic and worsens your headache.
“What makes you say that?”
You shrug. “You don’t seem from here but you also look totally at ease. I thought maybe you were either the sort to adapt quickly or to love this kind of scene.”
Black Swan hums, a forefinger tracing shapes on the surface of the bar. “I suppose that assumption is not entirely incorrect. I am not a local, no.”
“Where are you from?”
“That is… a complicated question to answer.”
You raise a curious eyebrow and she pushes some hair out of her face with a hand before leaning into you, closer to your ear. You pause as her soothing scent fills your nose and you feel her breath on your cheek, words meant only for you.
“Let’s talk somewhere quieter, if you wish. We can continue our conversation without having to yell to be heard.”
You consider her offer, hesitant. Your stomach tightens at her proximity and you would be lying if you said you didn’t want to keep talking to her. Her subtle charms lure you in and lower your defenses, and that is both refreshing and concerning. Black Swan feels like the kind of person you only meet once, you want to make the most of it. Not to mention that it would be stupid to deny how attractive she is. You look back at your friend in the middle of the dance floor, suddenly envious of how easy it is for her to be comfortable among the crowd. She hasn’t spared you a glance since she was approached by her dancing partner and while that doesn’t really bother you, part of you wants to prove that you’re also able to make immediate connections with strangers, that you’re not an antisocial freak who only keeps to themself.
“Okay,” you accept and look away at the pleased glint that shines in Black Swan’s eyes. “I have to warn my friend, it’ll take a second.”
You stand from the bar stool and clumsily make your way to the middle of the room, narrowly avoiding sweating limbs and their intoxicated owners. You hate the way anxiety buzzes uncomfortably in your guts as you’re closely surrounded by so many people. You make it to where your friend is, breathing heavier from the stress, and tap her shoulder to get her attention. She wears a grin as she sees you and jumps a couple times in excitement, grabbing your shoulders.
“You wanna dance?!”
“I’m leaving with someone,” you say loudly, pointing to the bar. Her eyes squint, looking in the same direction. She stands on her tiptoes to see over the heads of some clubgoers but doesn’t seem to find who you’re referring to. “Are you gonna be okay?”
She looks back at you and smiles with a quick nod. You don’t think she’s drunk, maybe just a little tipsy, because her eyes are clear and she hasn’t pulled you into an intricate dance only she knows the steps to yet.
“Have fun! Don’t worry about me! Go get laid!”
You make a face, embarrassed by the idea. She only laughs loudly and turns back to the woman she’s been with all night. You make your way back to the bar as fast as you can, eager to be away from the crowd and deafening music. Black Swan waits for you near the end of the counter and gently takes your hand in hers when you get close enough. Her gloved fingers delicately curl around your hand, an unexpectedly comforting sensation. She expertly navigates through the sea of bodies, tugging you along with a firm hand until you’re both out of the club and standing under the moonlight.
From outside, the music has dulled to a faint pulsing and you feel like you can finally breathe properly. You briefly close your eyes to take in a slow breath, inhaling the crisp summer breeze and exhaling softly through your nose. Black Swan is still holding your hand as you do, she turns to face you and observes the way your shoulders relax a little more with each calming breath. Your eyes blink open. You feel a bit sheepish under her stare but her small smile assures you that she doesn’t think any ill of you. Your hand slips from her gasp so you can wring them together.
“Do you want to walk as we talk? My place isn’t too far from here,” you realize how that sounds and falter, glancing away. “Not that we have to go.”
“I would enjoy that. Lead the way.”
You scratch your temple awkwardly. There’s a silent pause as you start to walk through the empty streets and closed businesses, almost close enough that your fingers brush with every step. You take your time, your pace measured to bask in the night air and the way the light winds blow Black Swan’s perfume towards your face. The quiet is a reprieve for your throbbing skull, you feel your headache shift to a dull pulse with every passing minute. You look up at the round moon in the sky, then remember your question from earlier, the one she had trouble answering. You start to cross a wooden bridge over a wide canal and clear your throat.
“You didn’t tell me where you were from, earlier,” you say, slowing down slightly to look at the moonlight reflecting off the still water.
“Ah, that’s right.” Black Swan trails her fingers over the railing before coming to a halt. She follows your gaze on the water and leans her forearms on the railing, seemingly lost in thought. You turn the other way, your back against the wooden bars, waiting for her to sift through her thoughts. Finally, her head turns to look at you and she asks, “Are you familiar with Memokeepers?”
You take a second to remember where you’ve heard that word before. “Memokeepers… from the Garden of Recollection, right? Beings who preserve humanity’s memories for the Remembrance.”
“Yes.” She doesn’t add anything else, only rests her cheek in the palm of her hand and gazes at you like she’s able to see past all your barriers and it only fuels her interest in you.
“…Are you saying you’re…?
“I am.”
“Oh,” you ponder the admission for a short moment. That explains why she stands out from the crowd. You think you remember that Memokeepers choose who to be seen by; you must have looked like a crazy person if no one else could see her at the bar. “I don’t think I have any memories worth preserving to attract the attention of a Memokeeper.”
“Mmm… We seek to protect humanity against the irreversibility of time. I, for one, believe there is nothing more human than loneliness, wouldn’t you agree?”
The smile that stretches her lips is a soft one, far gentler than you think you deserve. You look away from her to observe the discoloration of the wood beneath your feet. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised she knows about that considering what she is, but you feel slightly irked at the idea of somebody intruding on your mind without your knowledge or consent. Your thoughts and experiences are yours to keep, no matter what any Aeon may believe.
“I don’t appreciate you looking inside my head.”
Black Swan shakes her head. “I haven’t. I can see it in your eyes.”
“You’re just that astute, huh?”
“Or you don’t hide it as well as you think you do.”
You hum. You can feel the warmth of her stare against your face and when you meet her eyes, you feel small. It’s hard to imagine all the things she has witnessed and lived through, you are nothing compared to her time among mortals. You don’t understand why she’s here with you, who is painfully ordinary and inexperienced in most matters of life.
“I still don’t think I have anything unique to offer to the Remembrance. You’re wasting your time.”
“Collecting every aspect of life includes the mundane, not every memory worth preserving is extraordinary. Besides, I don’t believe you to be ordinary.”
“That’s a bold, but misguided, assumption.”
Black Swan chuckles lowly, straightening up to face you better. She stands slightly shorter than you, even with her heeled boots. A step brings her closer to your body, a hand loosely holding onto the railing.
“I have plenty of those,” she drawls, a little quieter, “and I don’t need to look into your memories to know that they are true.”
“You got all of this from one conversation? I doubt it.”
“Then let me presume something else.”
Your breath hitches as her fingers delicately cup your jaw like it could break under her touch. You’re unable to tear your gaze from hers and you want to shrink faced with the bright sunset colors of her eyes, there’s a knowing sheen in their depths that makes you feel vulnerable in a way you refuse to be with anyone. Her thumb moves across your skin, the gesture almost tender.
“There is an ache in you,” she says, eyelids lowering to watch the movement of her thumb near the corner of your mouth, “a profound desire that creates an immeasurable crater inside of you. You feel that this void makes you fundamentally different from your peers, so you hide behind tall walls and attempt to ignore the cries of your heart.”
Your lips part but the words get stuck in your throat. Black Swan’s smile is without malice and you feel emotion swirl in your gut, tightening the muscles and quickening your breath. A chill passes through you, raising the hair on your arms, and you don’t know if it’s from the temperature or her hold on your jaw. The smooth fabric of her glove rubs against your skin in soothing motions, the smell of incense fills your nose from her proximity, you feel bare in front of her, exposed to her judgment— it’s all too much. You take several steps back to catch your breath and she lets you go somewhat reluctantly, observing your struggle as another breath of wind makes you shiver. The temperature has dropped since you left the nightclub; though you know nights can get chilly, you thought you would be going home in your friend’s car, the same way you got there, and wouldn’t need to bring a jacket.
You rub your arms, hesitantly glancing at Black Swan. “What do you want from me?”
“Let’s get you home, shall we?” She kindly replies instead, extending a hand. “You’re freezing.”
You look at her outstretched palm with slight suspicion. She hasn’t done anything to make you believe that she’s ill-intentioned, quite the opposite, but you’re used to being careful around others. Still, she isn’t wrong. There is a gaping hole in the middle of you and it makes you incapable of letting anyone past the walls you’ve built for yourself, afraid that it would consume whoever ventured too close. You long for something you can’t bear to think about anymore, but Black Swan is… different. Somehow, she sees you for everything you are, and while that thought is uncomfortable at first, it soon develops into something deeper, desperate. You don’t know how it feels to be known. Black Swan materializes behind your defenses and gazes at you with genuine interest. Against your own practiced sense of self-preservation, you let her.
Her hand is warm as you lead the rest of the way to your apartment. A shiver runs through you occasionally and her free hand trails up your arm after each one to warm you. You try to ignore the pulsing of your heartbeat in your ears and the yearning in your gut growing with every casual touch on your skin. You don’t speak much while you walk. It doesn’t take too long to reach your apartment, maybe around twenty minutes or so. You fiddle with the keys when you stand on the doorstep of the building. The door opens with a soft click and you keep it ajar with one hand, turning to face Black Swan.
“Do you want to…”
“Yes.”
She enters the building after you, following you up the stairs to the first floor where you live. Her presence makes you a little anxious since not many people have been inside your living space and you thank the Aeons that you’re a fairly clean person before opening the door and stepping inside. There’s a gust of wind as you walk in and you realize you must have left a window open because the place is colder than usual. You discard your shoes near the entrance to slip into indoor slides, toss your keys into the bowl on the small table and scratch your temple, wondering what you’re meant to do next. You don’t play host often, so for a moment you simply stand in your living room as Black Swan looks around, trailing her fingers on framed pictures and leather chairs. You suddenly feel self-conscious about your taste in interior design but she only looks at you with a smile once she’s seen everything she needs to see.
“Uh, do you want something to drink?” You ask awkwardly, gesturing towards the kitchen. “I have wine.”
Black Swan shakes her head. “I don’t feel thirst— not that kind anyway. You’re sweet to offer.”
You don’t ask her what she means by that, thinking it might be Memokeeper related.
“You should change into something more comfortable,” she adds. “I can see you shuddering.”
It’s not a bad idea. You nod, adjusting the room’s thermostat to a higher temperature and feeling her eyes on you all the while before disappearing into a hallway. Your bedroom is warmer than the rest of the apartment. You let out a breath as you rummage through your drawers for casual clothes, hesitating between sweat shorts and sweatpants. You’re already warming up a little, so you pick the former. You change into a t-shirt and step in front of the mirror to check that you don’t look as tired as you feel. You rub the fatigue out of your eyes then pinch your skin to make you seem more awake. You fiddle with your hair a little until it looks good enough. Thinking of Black Swan in your living room causes your stomach to flutter uncharacteristically. It’s a different kind of nervousness from the one you’re familiar with, anticipation lingers in your belly and you don’t even know what it’s for.
There’s a soft knock at your door that has you pivoting towards the sound in surprise.
“Come in.”
The hinges creak as it opens and Black Swan slips her head through the opening, eyes briefly running down your figure.
“Is everything alright?” You ask.
“Of course. I wanted to check in on you.”
“Oh.”
Her attention catches you off guard still. She walks further into the room, taking note of the various tapestries and images on your bedroom walls, and you sit on the bed as you watch her. Her hands trail on the desk of your vanity, on your low dresser’s wooden surface, around the bottles of perfume you keep on it. She seems entirely at ease in your room like it was her own, her composure not faltering for a moment. Her eyes stop on a polaroid of you and the same redhead you went out with tonight that is stuck to the full length mirror on the door of your closet. She observes it for a while, a finger tracing the picture’s edges.
“When was this?” She addresses you without turning around, immersed in the sight of you doubled over with laughter while your friend stands to the side with icing all over her face, a pout on her lips. A fingertip touches your frozen form. You think maybe she can sense the emotions through the captured memory.
“About two years ago, when we were still rooming together. We used to prank each other when the other least expected it.”
“You seem… lighter, less burdened than you are now.”
She’s right, once again. It feels as though there’s nothing you can keep hidden from her, like she’s already learned you from the inside. She said she hasn’t been inside your mind but you’re not sure if you’re inclined to believe her words. How else can she accurately perceive who you are? Something takes over the uneasiness you would normally feel at being so acutely exposed to another’s gaze, something you recognize and have desperately been trying to ignore for years. The profound yearning for closeness; for fingertips in your hair, for low confessions into the night, for a synergy that can only exist between two beings completely attuned to each other— it swallows you whole and leaves you writhing in its belly. Your fingers sink into the sheets as they curl to grab a fistful of them. You look away from Black Swan to stare at a point on the other side of the room, willing your treacherous heart to be steady.
You don’t notice Black Swan watching you until she steps into your peripheral vision. She walks around your bed, heels muted on the carpet, and takes a seat beside you. Her fingertips brush your fist as her head tilts, sunset eyes dimmed. You just now realize that she doesn’t have any pupils.
“Poor thing,” her voice lowers to a sultry tone, a hand tenderly resting on your cheek, “you’re scared, aren’t you? These emotions inside of you, itching to leave the confines of your heart…” She watches your lips part when you exhale softly through your mouth. Her fingertips trace your jawline before tilting your chin up. “I can sate this hunger, if you wish.”
You swallow, staring into her appreciative gaze. “Why?”
“Why?” She repeats almost to herself. Her thumb slides up your chin to your bottom lip and follows its curve. “I’m afraid that eludes me. There is something unattainable about you, a part of you that is locked away, perhaps. I feel… inexplicably drawn to it.”
Black Swan slowly leans closer as if gaging your reaction and giving you time to react should you want to push her away. You can almost feel her breath on your lips, then she pauses to look up into your eyes, searching for an answer to an unspoken question. She seems to find what she’s looking for and when you think she’s going to kiss you, a persistent fluttering in your lower belly, her head dips to the side and her lips press against the skin of your neck. You tense as her fingers brush your curled ones on the bed, moving over your knuckles to your wrist, then up your forearm in a deliberately gentle touch. You feel her open mouth trail down your neck. Her hand leaves your face to settle on your bare knee. You let out a shuddering breath, frozen in place.
“Your pulse is racing,” she murmurs into your skin, pressing a firm kiss to your pulse point, “I can feel it.”
“What… are you doing?”
“Enjoying you.”
The hand on your knee slides higher, fingertips brushing the fabric of your shorts on your thigh. The other coaxes your muscles to relax with soft touches up and down your arm. You feel overwhelmed by her closeness and you’re unable to do anything but breathe out at the sensation of her slow kisses up your neck and to your jaw. A shiver runs down your spine and she hums in delight. The tip of her tongue tentatively darts out to lick a stripe up your jawline to your ear, causing you to inhale sharply through your mouth and drawing an amused chuckle out of her.
Black Swan pulls away slightly to take in your facial features as her hands sneak under your shirt to hold onto your waist, squeezing once. Your lashes flutter with every blink, the rise and fall of your chest quickening under her seductive touch.
“How adorable,” she mutters with a lustful sunrise in her eyes. Her hands travel over the expanse of your stomach, one of them separating from the other to trail up your back. She rubs the skin over your ribs. “I’ve barely touched you and here you are… so breathless for me.”
A meek sound escapes you at her forwardness and an appreciative gleam brightens her gaze. With her insisting hands on you and her scent all around, you feel entirely at her mercy. When she leans closer for her teeth to graze your neck, your head tilts to allow her better access. Her thumbs rub circles on your waist, enjoying its pliable curves. Your hand sinks into her long hair, messily tangling around the soft locks, and you bite your bottom lip at the low hum that follows. Black Swan finds a sensitive spot on your neck, sucks on the tender skin and your fingers grip her hair tighter at the pleasant sensation of her mouth on you. You relax against her like butter left in the sun. You can’t help the sharp exhales that leave you and with each one, her fingers dig into your sides almost possessively.
Her tongue swipes over the bruising spot at the base of your neck, soothing the dull pain caused by her teeth and earning a quiet, breathy noise from you. Black Swan smiles into your skin.
“So responsive, aren’t you?” Her voice is a sultry purr. Her touches grow bolder, lifting your shirt to pull it above your head in one smooth motion. She discards it somewhere on the bed and leans to gently bite down on your shoulder.
“Oh!”
Her palms roam over your torso, nails brushing the band of your bra. You fleetingly wish she would take off her long gloves so that you could feel her without any barriers and she seems to be thinking the same; a moment later she takes her hands from you to pull the garment off her forearms. You don’t see where they end up, nor do you care, because the feeling of her soft, unscarred palms sliding over the plane of your stomach steals your breath away. They reach your chest, squeezing your breasts over your bra as her wet kisses travel to your collarbones. Her fingertips slip under your bra, grazing your hardening nipples, and something resembling a quiet whimper escapes you.
“I wonder… How long has it been since you’ve been touched like this, mm?”
“I’ve never…”
Her lips pause near your throat. You feel her breath on your skin with every exhale.
“Is that right?”
You nod hesitantly, apprehending her response.
Black Swan pulls her mouth away from you, fingers expertly unclasping your bra to get it out of the way, and firmly pushes you further into the bed. Her gaze is hungry as she straddles your thighs and looms over you, a palm over your breast.
“No one has ever held you so close… had their hands on you like this?…”
“No.”
A possessive glint flashes in her eyes. She squeezes the flesh of your breast, the friction of your nipple brushing deliciously against her palm has you gasping out at the same time Black Swan eagerly claims your mouth. Her tongue pushes past your lips to swirl around yours and she readily swallows the soft moan you let out. You hold onto her hips while she presses breathy kiss after breathy kiss on your lips. You feel a mix of her saliva and yours at the corner of your mouth and her tongue licks it off before meeting your own once more, leaving you breathless. Two fingers pinch your erect nipple, coaxing more needy sounds from you and a low, appreciative moan on her part.
Her thumbs roll your nipples in tight circles, occasionally twisting this way and that to draw a whimper out of you, and she reluctantly separates from your lips to allow you to catch your breath. Her own chest heaves as she looks down at you, at your bruised lips and hard nipples under the pads of her fingers, arousal pooling in her belly. She is the only one privy to the sharp gasps you make, to your soft moans and quiet whimpers. Black Swan fills the void inside of you with her lustful and unrelenting touches, claiming you with her hot mouth and nimble hands. She leaves an imprint on your body with every kiss to your skin, every graze of her teeth or nails across your chest. You feel your arousal ruin your underwear, clit aching to be touched. You bring Black Swan’s mouth to yours with a hand around her neck, lips locking in desperate, messy kisses. Her hums of pleasure only turn you on more and you have to squeeze your thighs together to try and relieve the pressure between your legs.
A thin string of saliva connects your lips as she pulls away to press the flat of her tongue over your nipple. The tip teases your sensitive bud before she takes it into her mouth and sucks, hard and fast. She fondles the other breast, twisting your nipple between two warm fingers, and you can’t help a choked moan at the feeling. Pleasure courses through you in short, intense jolts down your spine, and your cunt throbs in your panties, begging for her attention.
“B-Black Swan,” you breathe out, biting your lip when she hums in satisfaction around your nipple. Her teeth graze the bud teasingly but she doesn’t bite, instead she opts for long suckles and the occasional flicks of her tongue. “Please…”
Her mouth leaves your chest and stretches into a smug smile, desire apparent in the way she gazes at the faint marks she’s left on your skin.
“What are you pleading for, darling?”
You forego timidity to focus on the burning need in your belly. Your fingers curl around her wrist and guide her hand down your stomach, over the band of your shorts. Her eyes narrow though the smile doesn’t leave her face as she lets you slip her fingers into your shorts. Her middle finger sinks between your outer lips over your panties and feels your slick through the thin fabric. You hold onto her wrist to keep her hand over your covered sex, sighing in relief.
“How rude of me,” she says lightly, finger running up and down your slit, “to neglect you like this. I was caught up in my own desire, it seems.”
Black Swan settles between your thighs. Her lips leisurely trail wet kisses down the curve of your stomach and her pussy flutters in response to the whimper that comes out of your mouth. She’s so wet already and all she’s done is kiss you. Her gaze is intense as she looks up at your brows furrowed in anticipation of her tongue on your cunt. How stunningly helpless you look under her ministrations. So sensitive, so responsive… she wants to ruin you, devour you until your thighs tremble pressed to her ears and your throat is sore from crying out her name. It sounds beautiful in your voice, even more so with unashamed desire lacing your words.
Black Swan discards your shorts without ceremony, tossing them on the floor next to the bed. Her tongue swipes over her lips at the sight of your wet panties. Her fingertips trace the edge of the material, hooking under it to watch the sticky string that connects it to your cunt as she pulls it away from you. Part of her wants to take her time ravishing you, she’s waiting this long, after all, but she also desperately wants to indulge her desires. How can she resist when you’re panting under her this way, a hand around your own breast and gazing down at her figure between your thighs?
Her hands fondle the flesh of your inner thighs, lost in the sight of your glistening cunt. Arousal slides down your pussy in slow drops, the tip of your pretty, aching clit poking out from between your lips. She almost wants to curse.
“You have no idea how long I’ve craved to have you bare before me like this,” she purrs, two fingers spreading your lips to fully appreciate your cunt, “how much I’ve wanted you.”
You exhale shakily, brows twisting for a second. “We just met…”
“Officially, perhaps.” Black Swan presses a kiss on your wet folds, tongue licking a stripe up your slit and collecting your slick. You moan, eyes squeezing shut. The taste of you makes her greedy and she has to contain herself not to lick you silly. “I’ve had my eye on you for quite a while…”
Your brain barely registers the words. Your thighs threaten to close in around her head with every flick of her tongue against your needy cunt. You pinch a nipple between your fingers as Black Swan places wet, open-mouthed kisses on your pussy and you almost forget to reply to her statement.
“What— What do you mean?” You ask breathily, hips jerking forward further into her mouth.
She laughs softly at your confused tone. Her fingers keep your lips spread wide to allow the flat of her tongue to collect more of your arousal. She feels your thighs on her ears and makes no move to stop you from squeezing them together.
“What do you think? Memokeepers are rarely eager to show themselves, and this pull I feel towards you… I had to understand it.”
You don’t know what to say. She’s admitting to stalking you while in between your thighs, tongue greedily swirling around your slick folds. She feels so good that you can’t focus on anything but the way she spreads her saliva on your pussy and swallows your arousal. You vaguely recall that this is the thirst she meant earlier, this bottomless need for more of your taste coating her lips and chin as the tip of her nose bumps against your throbbing clit.
You have trouble forming full sentences in your mind when she sucks your folds into her mouth and you don’t even care about the invasion of your privacy.
“You…” A finger teases your entrance and you whine, momentarily forgetting what you meant to say. “You’ve been following me.”
“Mmm…” Black Swan tentatively pushes the tip of her index finger into your cunt and swallows a moan as it effortlessly sinks inside you. “I needed to know who you were, what makes you tick, your unspoken desires. And after observing you for so long, committing your every heavy sigh to my memory, I could not resist meeting you myself— to touch you with my own hands and hear my name fall from your lips the way curses escape you on the brink of pleasure.”
You bring a hand to your mouth to muffle a moan, the tip of her finger brushing against a sensitive spot inside you. Her pace is steady, careful not to overwhelm you too fast or too soon, and it takes you two full minutes to understand what she’s implying. She takes your clit between her lips and sucks, long and hard.
“F-Fuck,” you whine, hips jerking forward in need. You feel your orgasm build in your lower belly and grip a fistful of the sheets under you, grinding your pussy against Black Swan’s experienced tongue. “You’ve— You’ve watched me… watched me touch myself?”
A throaty chuckle leaves her like she’s amused by how hard you’re trying to follow her sentences. She pulls away from your puffy clit for only a moment, looking up at you with unbridled desire. She drinks in the quiver of your bottom lip and the creases around your eyes, your parted lips and your hand palming the flesh of your breast. You are as beautiful under her as she imagined you to be when she would take a look around your empty bedroom, piecing together the puzzle of you with the help of your possessions.
Black Swan quickens the thrusts inside you, feeling her own cunt clench inside her shorts at the sensation of your warm walls around her digit. “How could I not? The way you fall apart under your own hands… your quiet moans as you play with yourself, oh…”
She moans into your cunt and you feel yourself gush into her mouth at the thought of her gaze on you all this time, watching you pleasure yourself and having to restrain herself from touching you, quietly suffering while she ruins her underwear. You wish you could have seen her and you wonder if she squeezed her thighs together as you played with your clit or sucked in a breath as you thumbed your nipple. She’s usually so composed, to think that your bare body can bring her to the edge of her self-control makes you so wet you’re sure you’re ruining your sheets.
“I can be a very patient person. I’ve had to restrain myself all this time, to be content simply watching you.” Black Swan circles your clit with her thumb, applying pressure on the tip as her slender finger drills into you the same way you do it when you touch yourself. The pleasure is too much and has you moaning into your forearm, uselessly trying to contain the noise due to living in an apartment building. “And… I think I deserve a reward for my patience, don’t you agree, darling?”
There’s a tightness in your stomach begging to snap; the pad of her thumb presses against your clit and the jolts of pleasure that course from your cunt to the rest of your body is heavenly, you’ve never felt more desired than with Black Swan’s uneven breaths fanning over your pussy, tongue darting out to taste you in soft, sweet kitten licks. You can’t control the tremble in your thighs and the stutter of your chest, or the hand that tangles into her pale hair to pull her closer to where you ache for her. Broken, high moans fill the room along with the wet sounds of her digit inside of you and her lips around your clit. You can’t think of anything but the pleasure that suddenly crashes over you and makes you shiver. You come hard around her finger and on her tongue, thighs squeezing against her ears and fingers tightly gripping her hair, and Black Swan laps up your cum with a rumbling hum of satisfaction. She helps you ride your orgasm by slowly massaging your walls, but her mouth doesn’t leave your cunt even as your high subsides. She licks long stripes up your slit, teases the base of your sensitive clit, then attaches her lips to your gushing entrance.
“S-Swan…” you manage to utter, back arching.
Black Swan inhales sharply at the soft sigh of her name. Her hands fondle the flesh of your inner thighs and spread them wide, keeping them pinned to the mattress. Her colorful eyes have dulled, the shine of your cum on her lips alike the lipgloss she’d applied earlier tonight. Her gaze is hungry and smug at having you shake for her, at being the first to make you come, to hear the mewls spilling from your open mouth. The thin layer of sweat on your skin gives it an intoxicating glow and she can’t resist dragging two fingers between your folds to watch your slick envelop her digits.
“You are a vision,” she drawls, unhurriedly rubbing your sensitive cunt. “Beautiful and so, so responsive to my touch…”
The pad of her thumb presses against your twitching clit and your hips jerk as you whimper, helpless under her. Black Swan hums appreciatively and gives you some reprieve, hovering over you to plant a tender kiss to your jaw. Your fingers grip the back of her neck to pull her body closer and the friction of your hard nipples on the fabric of her clothes makes you exhale audibly. She uses sticky fingers to tilt your chin upwards. Your lips part almost instantly to welcome her hot, wet mouth. It’s a softer kiss than the urgent ones from before, her lips slowly slide against yours and you feel her breath in your mouth, her firm tongue swiping over your bottom lip. Your arm sneaks around her waist, pulling her body flush on yours, earning another long hum from her. Her weight on you is a delight as she leads the pace of your mouths and your heart constricts as if squeezed between loving fingers. This is intimacy, you realize; Black Swan’s thigh between your legs and her wet digits under your chin, her tongue past your lips and the warmth of her skin on yours. You feel breathless in an entirely new way.
The ache of your pussy dulls to a soft pulse, your hands run down her sides to squeeze her waist and you’re suddenly hungry for everything she has to offer. You rub circles into her pliable flesh, your touch growing insistent as you keep her pressed against you. Black Swan moans low into your mouth when your palms slide down her body to grasp her ass. Her breathing is a touch heavier against your lips and you prop up the thigh between her legs, drawing an exquisite gasp from her.
“Need you…” you mumble, fingers slipping under top to pull at the mesh of her bodysuit over her back. It slaps her skin when you let go and the needy sound that leaves her almost makes you moan. “Off.”
“Demanding…” Black Swan sits up, lavender hair cascading down her back, and grips the material of her purple top from the bottom to pull it over her head in one smooth movement.
Your pupils dilate considerably at the sight of the intricate lace of her bra. She leans forward to capture your mouth in an eager kiss. You run your hands up her stomach and fondle her heavy breasts between your palms, enjoying their plushness. Your fingers tug on the cup of her bra to free one of them and you whine in the middle of the kiss at the feel of her hard nipple under your thumb. Black Swan leans into your touch with a quiet sigh. You harshly twist her nipple for the surprised moan that escapes her. Pulling her tight bodysuit down her waist only takes a few seconds and your hands greedily take fistfuls of her breasts and squeeze once, then twice, as your mouth chases hers, her tongue wetting your lips in a sloppy, hurried kiss.
Black Swan helps you pull her clothes past her hips and takes the rest off herself, revealing the creamy skin of her plump thighs and the dark lace of her underwear. Slick clings to the fabric in a thick, sticky string when she slides it off her legs to discard it on the floor. Two of your fingers run down her cunt, grazing her engorged clit, and she lets out a breathy moan, resting her forearms on each side of your head to support her body. She’s incredibly wet, so ready for your touch between her folds. Her entrance gushes with another wave of arousal, breath heavy, as the tip of your index teases her hole. Her forehead rests on yours, the tip of your noses brushing. You nuzzle into her at the same moment you push a finger inside her throbbing pussy, tentatively thrusting into her to feel the warmth of her walls before slipping a second digit into her.
Black Swan squeezes her eyes shut with a needy moan against your lips and her cunt clenches tight around your fingers. The slight stretch of her pussy brings her considerable relief; it’s not long before her hips follow the pace of your thrusts inside her. Her breasts move with the rest of her body, baby pink nipples grazing your chest with every roll of her hips. Her breath is hot on your face and she stutters out soft gasps as you quicken your pace, drunk on the feeling of her cunt sucking in your fingers like she never wants to let you go.
“Yes—” she gasps against your mouth, “You feel so good…”
You plunge into her up to the knuckles, determined to have her gush over your hand. Your name is a half moan past her lips and her brows twist in pleasure, the filthy, wet sound of your digits drilling into her fluttering pussy filling your bedroom in an intoxicating melody. A quiver goes through her thighs. Black Swan lifts one hand from the bed to bring it between her legs and swipe her aching clit in tight circles, low oh’s and ah’s spilling from her mouth. Together, you bring her closer to the edge. You masturbate her the way you know how, the way she’s watched you do to yourself so many times, fingers curling inside her and making her see explosions of colors behind her eyelids. She’s tempted to curse, her who never does, and she feels the coil in her belly snap as white hot pleasure washes over her. Her hand stutters on her clit and she comes around your fingers with a sharp moan, squeezing them tight and forcing you to slow down your pace, her limbs trembling over you. Her orgasm is intense, she shivers from head to toe and struggles to keep herself above you, chest leaning into yours.
Black Swan barely has a moment to catch her breath as you slip out of her and rub comforting shapes into her love handles with one hand while bringing her wrist up to your face. You take her fingers into your mouth and her eyes blink open at the sensation of your tongue swirling around her digits, sucking her clean. She gazes down at you, lips parted.
“Swan…” you breathe out around her fingers, the hint of a whimper in your words. “Want you on my face.”
Black Swan applies pressure on your tongue, making you moan. “Is that right?” Her voice is low and throaty, each word carefully enunciated despite her heavy breathing.
You nod eagerly, squeezing the dip of her hip. The thought of her plush thighs around your head, trapping you between their soft flesh as she grinds her cunt on your tongue makes your head spin. You want to bury your nose in her slick folds and have her come in your mouth until she’s too sensitive to handle your ministrations. Black Swan hums, a fondness in her lidded eyes as she takes her fingers out of your mouth. They leave a wet trail on your skin when they cup your cheek.
“So eager to please,” she says softly to herself, thumb tracing the curve of your top lip. “Alright.”
Like she was ever going to say no to the needy look in your gaze; you look up at her with twinkling admiration and she feels herself pulled to you once more.
Black Swan positions herself over your face, thick thighs on each side of your head, and your arms wrap around them to pull her closer. Her pussy glistens, puffy and pink, as she gently tangles her hand in your hair and the sight is breathtaking. The short hairs on her cunt are only slightly darker than the ones on her head, they shine with her slick and entice you further into her folds. Your tongue darts out to lick a stripe up her slit, delighting in the soft hum that follows the gesture. You’ve never done this before, but you try your best to apply theory to practice, rubbing the flat of your tongue on her cunt and collecting her tangy cum. The grip on your hair pushes you closer to her wet pussy, but she’s careful not to be too harsh.
“Just like that,” her quiet, breathy moans encourage you as you suck her pulsing clit. The drawl of her words sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your pussy. “You’re a quick learner, aren’t you?”
The taste of her fills your mouth, the smell of her arousal takes over your nose as it coats the tip of it, you can feel her all around and it makes you moan into her throbbing cunt. The vibrations reverberate through her pussy, pulling another long moan of your name out of her lips. She’s sensitive from her previous orgasm, already twitching against your tongue, yet her hips rolls into your mouth to chase release a second time. You stare up at her head thrown backwards in blind pleasure, at the sheen of her lips and the movement of her breasts, nipples like pretty pebbles on her chest. Sweat clings to her brows and dampens the bangs framing her cheeks. She’s a painting above you, one that you can’t tear your eyes from.
“You’re so pretty, Swan…” you mutter into her pussy, flicking your tongue on her clit, and she almost melts at the compliment.
Her hips grind into your face as she feels herself getting closer to release, gripping your hair a bit tighter to keep your mouth on her cunt.
“Oh…” Black Swan moans, two fingers closing around her nipple to pinch it softly. Her cum drips down your chin and her eyes shut in bliss.
Her orgasm comes embarrassingly fast— after having to rely for so long solely on the thoughts of you as she touched herself, hearing your muffled sounds into her pussy is enough to bring her to the brink. You’re enthusiastic, licking up her slit and between her folds, sucking her clit hard and fast, and she can’t resist bucking into your mouth as she comes on your tongue. Her body trembles and you welcome the gush of her cum in your mouth with a pleased moan, eagerly lapping up her release. Your hands tighten their hold on her thighs, keeping her flush against you while she rides her high, slightly leaning forward. Her clit twitches, her cunt throbs and she can’t believe how wet she is, cum staining her thighs and the bottom of your face.
You don’t let her pull away, gripping her tighter when her hips jerk away from your mouth, and she gasps out, the feel of your tongue pushing into her entrance quickly overwhelming her.
“Aeons—“ A moan breaks her sentence and the words get stuck in her throat as you wriggle your tongue inside her to swallow more of her cum.
Her thighs shake around your head and her eyes almost roll back into her skull at your desperate need to draw more of her needy sighs and throaty moans. Your open mouth won’t leave her pussy, sucking her lips, nose grazing her sensitive clit. Black Swan makes a pretty mess on your face and her hips greedily grind into you despite the overwhelming sensations, clutching the headboard in a tight grip.
She breathes out your name, eyes shut and brows twisting in pleasure, “Ah… Mmh—!”
You wrap your lips around her clit and suck, making her choke out a strangled moan as the hand in your hair attempts to pull you from her pussy.
“T-Too sensitive…”
Black Swan sees stars behind her eyelids, a broken whine in her throat when you relent slightly and opt to tease the base of her aching clit instead. Her stomach is so tight, orgasm rapidly approaching, and she can’t do anything but rub her cunt desperately onto the flat of your tongue. She needs to come so badly she forgets to take into account the fact that you’re having difficulty breathing with your nose in her pussy and her thighs around your head. There’s a throbbing in your skull not unlike a coming migraine, but you focus on making her feel so good her teeth sink into her bottom lip to muffle a needy cry.
With the tip of your tongue teasing her entrance, Black Swan comes hard and shakes above you as a drawn out moan of your name rips from her throat. You can’t breathe with how much she’s squeezing your head, you have to tap her thigh a couple times to get her attention and she finds the strength to pull herself from you, a tremble in her legs. You’re both panting heavily when she collapses on the bed beside you, catching your breath as the throb of your skull slowly subsides. Black Swan has the back of a hand on her eyes and you can see the quiver that runs through her with the aftershocks of her orgasm.
You bury your face in her chest and she sighs in satisfaction, absentmindedly stroking your hair as you press soft kisses to her breast.
“Was that okay?” You murmur into her skin, rubbing her waist.
Black Swan laughs, disbelief sending ripples through her abdomen. She tilts your head to face her and gazes down at you with a mix of endearment and amusement.
“It was more than okay, trust me.”
Her hand pulls you to gently kiss your lips, tasting herself on your mouth. You’re putty against her and she has no difficulty flipping you over so that your head rests on your pillows. A thumb swipes over your jawline when she separates her lips from yours. You watch the sun rise in her eyes.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, mmh?”
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