vecna | ☣️ midwestern mayhem inbox.

[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. ]

[Tilts his head up, chin in her bosom, experiencing the newfound bliss of continual, repeated friction against his cock, looking at her like she’s heaven itself.]

Then let’s have you do as much as you like, fucking my fingers…

[He angles his palm upwards just enough to be properly cupping her, so that her clit might rub against him even more.]

Then you can use your tongue on me. I’m in no hurry to be anywhere, are you?

No. No... All I want is here.

[ him. him him him him.

forward into his palm and grinding there. back against the tip of his cock. her tail nudges beneath the head, holding him in place even as she moves more and more aggressively. ]

Kiss my neck.

[Yes ma’am. The expedient way his lips rise up to latch onto her neck is almost comedic, but her movements (and her blasted tail) make him feel desperate. Greedy. More more more.

They’re eager, wet kisses. Hurried and even a bit sucking. Henry’s hips grind up instinctively, and his hand moves along with the effort, adding more pressure for her to rut into.]

[ the sound that their sex makes—their ears should burn. Sprezzatura, though, feels only a sharp, plucking pleasure steadily radiating up through her stomach and also down her legs. heady, isn't it? she loves that feeling.

as she squirms in his lap, she rucks her nails up and down his back. through fabric, no claws on blissful skin this time, but it's enough. all she wants is to caress him and for him to know that she is.

gaspy, ] I think I could fit every inch of you up my hole—

[ another time. ]

[The suggestion of those claws through the thin fabric of his shirt is nearly as good; or maybe nearly worse, just a torturous tease. He should have taken his shirt off first, he thinks for the second time.

But finally, Sprezzatura earns the last thing she's been wanting: Henry squirms a little too, excess energy writhing through him despite how eagerly he fucks her with his fingers and palm, and finds that extra effort manifesting by how his lips find the closest stiffened nipple—not difficult, since he's at perfect level for it–and kisses, sucks there.

Hums heated approval, his mouth never straying far even when he speaks.]

Which one?

[ehe]

[ the dimmest part of Sprezzatura's brain suggests fishing up a lipstick tube and reapplying, if he's going to be kissing where he's kissing. only for a moment, though. a woman can't be expected to think when there's a pair of lips wrapped around her nipple.

lowers her face into the soft, flaxen hair at his crown. her own hot exhale blooms across Henry's scalp. wriggle more. she loves it. her heart is hammering so hard it makes her feel sick. ]

These inches [ wrapping his base up snug to hold him right where she wants him, in between ] and this hole. Leave my cunt free for this wonderful... perfect touch...

[Warm and snug and, despite what they're doing, she feels safe. He loves it, her breath in his hair. He suckles at her nipple again, swirling his tongue around it once or twice, before pulling back to sever the kiss with a wet noise.

Wiggle more? He wiggles more — all of him, his hips, his fingers. His cock throbbing against the hug of her tail. Impatient and excited and full of a warm, ever-present feeling that has more to do with her than the act itself.

Breathy-] Promise me? That you'll let me do that.

[Later. Someday.]

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