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(F!LW/Fawkes) Good Vibrations (1j/1)
Date: 2014-03-21 02:18 pm (UTC)“Is that an order?”
“Yes.”
Her grin widens. “Then command me.”
Swallowing, he tries again. “Roll over for me. I want to—no, I am going to fuck your mouth.” He loves the feel of her mouth on his cock, but has never gotten to actually come from oral alone. Instead, they use it as an appetizer, foreplay before rubbing his cock between her thighs or slipping into her pussy.
Her response is gratifying, lithe body twisting under him as he releases her. He has to touch his hand to the pulsar toy to keep it in place, and she moans as she feels the heavy metal plug in her ass shift its weight, bearing down on her cunt and amplifying each thrust of the silicone object. But she manages to make herself to an awkward position on her hands and knees, facing him as the toy continues fucking her. It is an undignified position, but he decides that’s part of the charm; his little dancer made ungainly and clumsy by her own desire.
Fawkes sits back on the bed now, spreading his legs and letting her crawl between them. With her ass still angled upward, he can even watch the base of the toy move in and out as she starts licking his shaft. Cupping his erection with one hand, she lathers her tongue up and down, using broad strokes to coat every inch of him from base to tip in a slick layer of saliva. Then she actually starts sucking, stretching her lips over him and using her hand to twist up and down, covering the length that she can’t possibly take in her small mouth. She has to use her elbow to brace herself, propping it against the meaty pad of his upper thigh and shifting her weight over him. He likes it, her weight almost negligible through his thick skin but reassuringly there. He twists his hand through her hair, the unladylike mane making an excellent grip, but keeps his fingers loose; gently tugging, rather than controlling. A not so subtle reminder that he could just grab her and ram his cock down her throat.
But he won’t. He knows that, and she knows that—but there is still excitement in flirting with that danger zone.
She moans around his cock, her tongue tickling the sensitive glans and her breath hot around him. She’s getting sloppier, her strokes erratic as her head bobs up and down, lips plump and cheeks puffy as she continues sucking. He can tell she’s coming, body trembling, and decides to urge it along by shoving that toy just a little bit deeper. He gives it a gentle tap, and that extra centimeter of penetration does the trick, her hands shaking as she still tries to desperately stroke him to completion…
“Jinx,” he groans, one hand still twined against her scalp. “I want to—“ The idea feels wicked and degrading, but that’s part of why he wants it. He licks his lips, trying to gather the words for his desire.
She stops sucking for just a moment, barely more than a heartbeat as she draws back, kissing the thick vein pulsing under his cock. “You get to do whatever you want, Fawkes. You own me tonight.” It should sound lewd, lascivious—but her voice is so soft, and her breath puffs against his balls. It sounds almost like a prayer, and he re-examines that last statement.
Ownership. That’s what he wants.