She swallows, throat bobbing, as her hips jerk against their fingers- squelch-helplessly chasing the friction. "...Nn-no," she manages, voice trembling. The lie tastes bitter. Because the truth is, she has imagined this, late at night, fingers buried in her own heat
click-click-click
while half-formed fantasies whispered through her mind. But this-This is real. Their thumb drags hard over her clit, and she whines, legs shaking as they push two fingers deep inside. She can feel it-the stretch, the slick glide of her own arousal making an obscene noise every time they fuck into her.
Schlllrp.
Plap.
Plap.
Her cunt clenches greedily, desperate for more. The desk creaks beneath her, wood groaning as her grip tightens. "Look at you," they murmur, lips ghosting across her clavicle. "Taking my fingers like a good girl." She flushes at the title, nipples pebbling beneath her constricting blouse.
They notice-of course they do-and with a wicked grin, their free hand slips beneath the fabric. Cool air rushes against her bare skin as they tug her bra down, pinching one stiff peak between rough fingers.
Ahn-!
Her back arches off the desk, thighs squeezing around their wrist. The dual sensations-fingers thrusting, palm grinding, fuck, their thumb circling her clit in tight little spirals-make her vision blur.
Drool spills from the corner of her mouth, a thin string of it connecting to her chin. "S-slower-!" she gasps, but they don't. If anything, they speed up, curling their fingers just so, and suddenly-
White.
Her whole body locks. Muscles quiver like a drawn bowstring before-release. A choked cry tears from her throat as pleasure crashes through her cunt fluttering wildly around their fingers. Squelch-squelch-splotch. Wetness gushes out, so much she can hear it dripping onto the wood below.
But they don't stop. Even as her oversensitive flesh trembles, they keep working her, fingers relentlessly. "N-no-ah-too much-!" Her protest is weak, hips twitching weakly between
pushing into their touch and shying away. Tears prick at the corners of her eyes, And then-
Their mouth crashes onto hers again, swallowing her whimpers as their fingers resume their brutal pace. She tastes herself on their tongue, salty-sweet, and something about that makes her even wetter.
Her body betrays her, her cunt squeezing around their digits like it's begging for more.
Glltch.
Schlick.
Between kisses, they tug at her blouse buttons. One pops off, rolling across the
floor
tink-tink-tink
before them her chest is fully bare, nipples stiff and pink in the dim light. Their mouth latches onto one, sucking hard enough to bruise.
Her hands fist in their hair, unsure if she wants to push them away or pull them closer. And then A knock at the door. Both freeze. Violet's breath comes in ragged pants, eyes wide. The doorknob twists-
(To be continued...)
(are they cooked or are they cooked?)