vecna | ☣️ midwestern mayhem inbox.

[ ...how loose?

because if she's given enough lead, she'll take all of it, flinging herself over with verve and pushing him down ]

[Pretty loose. The invisible touch was just a formality at that point, and when he’s pushed down, it all but dissipates.

Inhales in surprise — even if he really shouldn’t be.]

Sprezzatura. I give you an inch… [And she takes a mile!!]

Oh, I can count at least five you aren't giving me...

[ inches. ]

Edited 2024-07-16 05:21 (UTC)

[GIRL

Laughs disbelievingly. He walked right into that one.]

I’d you’d rather have my cock than my fingers…

[Does he still have leeway to reach between her legs and run one long digit through her folds? Because he’s going to.]

Then I won’t say no.

[ oh. with her hands now free to move, she's eager to grab his wrist and hold him there, close, cupping her. trying to angle him to slip that finger inside. ]

More than enough of you to go around.

[His wrist fixed in place, then, whether he wants to or not. (He wants to.) His eyes, piercing, remaining steady on her face — the lipstick smears feel so secondary to everything, now.]

This is the problem, Ms Vaux. You're so impatient.

[With that, one long finger finally, slowly pushes inside. She's so wet there's hardly any resistance at all, and the sound this one small movement makes is somehow the most lurid one yet.]

[ secondary, perhaps, to him. Sprezzatura still sees every blotch of colour, vividly, joyfully, and reaches for the tube with her free hand... as Henry finally enters her. oh. oh, perfection.

her lips part around him as though welcoming him in. her hips push down. she is soaking, yes, and so inexpressibly hot that it's a wonder she isn't steaming. drops her head forward on her shoulders with a small groan, lashes low. ]

Good.

[ splaying her fingers at his wrist, she pushes that hand up towards his elbow, then down again. rucking fabric. ]

[Impossibly wet, and incredibly soft on the inside. Just this alone sends another thrill through him, especially as she sinks herself just a little lower onto that finger, practically buried to his knuckle. Henry lets out a low note of appreciation and encouragement.

He pushes up a little more inside of her, seeking even a millimeter of difference, and... Well. He isn't sure what next, really. Angles his wrist, crooks his finger around, feeling and exploring with what room he does have. Her ministrations against the sleeve of his arm make him wish he could remove his shirt right now, but there is something thrilling about doing this mostly clothed.]

You're practically dripping. Did you like being bound ["bound"] and teased that much?

I must have.

[ she feels it now, too. slippery. pulls her hand back up to his wrist, fingers grazing over the heel of his palm. ]

Put two inside. Lay others on either side so they are holding me.

[ and she'll lift her hips enough to give him both the space and the view. her underwear stretches between her open thighs ]

[Her fingers brush close to both his 001 tattoo and his Pride marking, perhaps the only part of this entire imagery—her lifting up to give him better access, and what a view it is—that could sully the moment. Thankfully, it doesn’t come even close. In fact, wouldn’t it be just as sinful and wonderful if she was so wet that she dripped down across the tattooed ink? Maybe he can get her to that point, if she’s not already close to it.

He follows instructions with both obedience and curiosity, slipping one more finger in, and finding that she welcomes him inside without issue at all. Now both middle and ring fingers are seated inside of Sprezzatura, and the others brace her on either side.

Henry’s face is so flushed now, a pretty pink. His cock decries a lack of stimulation, but even this barely registers in this moment, with her balanced atop him, his fingers deep inside, the way she looks at him, the way she feels.]

You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.

[ that would be very sinful... and unlikely. but she is wet enough to fulfil the fantasies of an inexperienced man, and fingering her makes for an easy glide. slowly, inch by steady inch, he fills her, and her gaze darkens and her lashes fall low. ]

Aren't I?

[ breathy inhale. one of surprise and accommodation for him inside. she settles back, then, as much as she can, and with the deft sweep of her tail, tugs his cock close through the net of her panties to nestle its head between her cheeks. ]

Give me kiss.

[You have to let his imagination run wild to the extreme and unlikely sometimes, okay!!

The exact moment her tail touches his cock, Henry lets out a shuddering breath. Here’s that imagination wandering free again, as its head finds itself tucked close: he wonders what it would be like to push his cock inside of her. Either opening. Would she feel as velvety as she does around his fingers? A different kind of warmth and pressure, maybe, compared to when he fucked her throat the first time.

Ahh, god.

Will she let him sit up? It might shift their position only slightly, but everything is where it needs to be—his fingers and his cock—and he doubts that’ll change if he tries to rise up and tilt his head upwards, asking for a kiss.]

[ she'll let him up. after all, a kiss is what she wants most. her weight adjusts, but she keeps him close and his fingers remain seated, and she tips her face and parts her lips and exhales in eagerness just before their lips touch.]

[He has one free hand to loop around her middle and keep her close, as though she might slip away if he doesn't, her open blouse allowing himself such a wonderful heat when they seam together.

The kiss has his heart throbbing in his throat. It's just as pleasurable as any other kiss he's had with her, and he wonders if that'll ever change. But right now, it's a firecracker in his chest going off as his lips meet hers, half-parted, too. Slotting their mouths together in a way that he missed, when he had her turned around to not face him.]

[ as before: one kiss becomes two becomes ten becomes... a messy slide of wet lips and tongue, everything intermingled and collecting at the corners of their mouths and trailing down to their chins. it's good. it's perfect. it's a still frame of peace in a life that often gives her little of it.

smiling, murmuring into his mouth: ] Now curl them.

[It leaves him breathless. Nothing else matters in the world than her lips on his, their eagerness wetting the corners of their mouths. He’s putty in her hands.

Of course he crooks his fingers. Her walls press softly against his touch.]

Mmmn. When do I get to put more than my fingers and tongue inside of you?

[ oh, yes, right there. feels good. she splays her legs wider, to sink into his lap more fully, and this rucks her underwear back up high. but this time, his hand is already buried between her legs. and so is his cock.

touches her tongue to the tip of his nose. exhales her laugh, saying, ] You already~ have.

[His cock, which weeps and throbs and is desperate for friction. Granted only a smidgen of it when she adjusts herself.

He makes a noise of protest, which bubbles into a laugh to match hers. She’s beautiful; but also cute. She makes him feel… giddy, the only person who can manage that somehow.]

You know that’s not what I meant.

[Uncrooks his fingers and… bends them again!]

Ahh—h.

[ this is how he gets the friction! her hips move in a little pulse, that delicious wet sound, and in so doing she bears down on his cockhead nudged right up against her, too. very little could feel better than this.

well... maybe if he were kissing at her nipples, too. ]

But you want my tongue inside you, too. Mmm, what trouble.

[Oh. A reward for his efforts — this is how you train good little twinks, you know. He repeats the movement again inside of her, coveting the sound and scent of their sex, and how she feels rubbing against the head of his cock.

He doesn’t kiss her again yet, but instead nuzzles in, pillowing himself in her chest.]

I do want that, too.

Then—

[ there's a slick bead of precome wetting her as she rubs. he would fit her perfectly; just enough stretch to satisfy that pleasant ache and deep enough that she would feel completely full. and then his fingers also moving come-hither in her cunt—

she clenches tight around him for an instant. two.

Henry will find her awash in new goosebumps. ]

Does imagining it make you twitch? Those softest of kisses.

[His imagination runs parallel the moment she clenches tighter around his fingers, still curled inside of her, moving as she likes it. She’d feel so good, kissing his cock like that. Tight and hugging and squeezing at him as he thrust inside of her.

That makes him twitch. He nuzzles into her chest again, and the pebble of her goosebumps brush against his skin; he presses a plush kiss against her bosom.

Her tongue, though. Teasing and exploring his hole — how indecent and how exciting that would be, too. He can’t even guess at how it would feel.]

Of course it does. And I could touch myself, too, while you explore me.

[ he's so eager! hardly shy at all. ]

Mmhm. [ slow grinding. she's getting him wet, too. ] Mammon, Henry, I want that.

[What’s there to be shy about? He wants her to know exactly how much he desires her, in all the ways his imagination can provide.

His fingers continue to wiggle and stimulate her from the inside, even—or especially—as the web of his fingers begins to collect her wetness there.]

You’d like that to this more?

Hmmmmmm. Why must I choose?

[ this time, when she rolls her hips, she keeps the momentum going—begins to hump his hand. mmmmmmm. ]

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