She was always so harsh, demanding, taking everything she could from him. In one fast push he found himself pinned down on the bed, under her. Olivia removed her blouse without another word, not giving him time to think or react, leaning down to kiss him roughly, hands touching him everywhere at once.
He watched in mild confusion, his brain fogged by lust, as she stepped aside to remove her pants, the sound of metal clicking from her belt buckle loud to his ears and the ruffling of clothes thrown aside, as he laid complete dressed on her bed made his cock twitch in anticipation, to feel her taste, to feel her smooth and hot around him. Peter watched as she climbed on the bed again, naked, moving closer to him.
With no further word or sound, she held his arms, shoving them to his side, spread eagle under her, as she straddled his face, her pussy inches from his lips.
“Fuck me with me your tongue, Peter,” she commanded. Olivia didn’t ask for what she wanted, she demanded, ordered him and Peter had no option but oblige.
But if he were honest to himself, he loved that, being under her, her wetness coating his lips as he simply laid there and licked her, devoured her, bit her, teeth grating against the sensitive skin of hers, as Olivia buckled harshly against him, riding his face. He felt the air leaving his lungs as he couldn’t breath anything but the scent of her arousal, couldn’t see anything but her in front of him, couldn’t taste anything but the liquid heat that dripped straight to his tongue, as he drank her in.
And he loved it. He loved being under her and a slave to her wishes, his hands grabbing her ass, spreading her open to give him better access so he could fuck her more thoroughly, swirling his tongue into her, taking her pulsating clit between his lips and biting it, stronger than necessary, just a small punishment for her being so utterly demanding. And that sent her off to an orgasm, rocking harder, impossibly rougher, her pubic hair scraping his face most likely the same way his stubble scraped hers, rocking fast, fast, fast, moaning louder and louder, muffled to his ears, her thighs pressing his head, the air leaving his lungs, her scent intoxicating him and she clenched, clenched around him, on him, all over him.
Then she let her body fall heavily to the side, breathing unsteady, their limbs tangled in a mess. Peter tried to find his breath, letting the air fill his lungs, swallowing her juices.
He turned around to look at her but she had left already, walking naked to the bathroom.
Peter/Fauxlivia
Date: 2011-04-28 05:33 am (UTC)She was always so harsh, demanding, taking everything she could from him. In one fast push he found himself pinned down on the bed, under her. Olivia removed her blouse without another word, not giving him time to think or react, leaning down to kiss him roughly, hands touching him everywhere at once.
He watched in mild confusion, his brain fogged by lust, as she stepped aside to remove her pants, the sound of metal clicking from her belt buckle loud to his ears and the ruffling of clothes thrown aside, as he laid complete dressed on her bed made his cock twitch in anticipation, to feel her taste, to feel her smooth and hot around him. Peter watched as she climbed on the bed again, naked, moving closer to him.
With no further word or sound, she held his arms, shoving them to his side, spread eagle under her, as she straddled his face, her pussy inches from his lips.
“Fuck me with me your tongue, Peter,” she commanded. Olivia didn’t ask for what she wanted, she demanded, ordered him and Peter had no option but oblige.
But if he were honest to himself, he loved that, being under her, her wetness coating his lips as he simply laid there and licked her, devoured her, bit her, teeth grating against the sensitive skin of hers, as Olivia buckled harshly against him, riding his face. He felt the air leaving his lungs as he couldn’t breath anything but the scent of her arousal, couldn’t see anything but her in front of him, couldn’t taste anything but the liquid heat that dripped straight to his tongue, as he drank her in.
And he loved it. He loved being under her and a slave to her wishes, his hands grabbing her ass, spreading her open to give him better access so he could fuck her more thoroughly, swirling his tongue into her, taking her pulsating clit between his lips and biting it, stronger than necessary, just a small punishment for her being so utterly demanding. And that sent her off to an orgasm, rocking harder, impossibly rougher, her pubic hair scraping his face most likely the same way his stubble scraped hers, rocking fast, fast, fast, moaning louder and louder, muffled to his ears, her thighs pressing his head, the air leaving his lungs, her scent intoxicating him and she clenched, clenched around him, on him, all over him.
Then she let her body fall heavily to the side, breathing unsteady, their limbs tangled in a mess. Peter tried to find his breath, letting the air fill his lungs, swallowing her juices.
He turned around to look at her but she had left already, walking naked to the bathroom.