#you ever sat down and had a mid-life crisis and wanted to kys bc me too

[idyllcy]

saccharine - mike schmidt x reader

You taste like divine honey.

Mike decides that on a random Wednesday afternoon, Abby still at school, his face still buried in your cunt. 

You're a dripping mess around him, your slick sticking to the stubble of his half-shaved face, back arched as he curls his fingers in you again, taking the moment to breathe, but refusing to leave your pretty pussy alone. He has to be attached to you in some way. If he isn't. If he isn't. If he isn't, then he's sure the nightmares will come again. He'd pick drowning in your messy cunt than those dreams in a heartbeat. 

He pants, catching his breath as you clench around him again, tears in the corner of your eyes as you cum for the nth time. His name comes off as a weak whine from your lips as he fingers you through your orgasm, refusing to stay still as you cry about how you didn't have any more in you. He knows you do. Even if you don't want it, you haven't called your safeword yet, so he's free to continue with you.

He pulls his fingers out of you with a lewd squelch, bringing them to his lips, sucking on them as you recover from the orgasm, head turned to the side as your chest rises and falls with each breath, the thin layer of sheen on your skin. Then, when he's sure they're clean, he delves back into your cunt, tongue forcing past your folds, causing you to jolt, fingers flying to his hair and digging into his scalp, almost crying as you try to tell him you can't take any more, but it falls on deaf ears. 

He mumbles for one more as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, one of his hands going to lace with your fingers, giving you a gentle squeeze as he forces one last orgasm out of you, drinking it up as his head spins from the lack of oxygen, but oh heavens do you taste divine.