fawning over you

You blink awake, head still fuzzy with sleep. The room is dark, with only a pale night light to illuminate the edge of the nightstand. You can just barely spot the hazy outline of your phone and the small desk lamp. The rest of the room is swallowed up by the darkness of the new moon, so thick it's almost tangible.

You yawn quietly, eyes fluttering closed again as you lean back into the soft touch of your girlfriend, Sophie. If there's one thing you appreciate about being with her, it's that you always get to snuggle up to a warm body at the end of the day.

Just when you're about to doze off again, you see a glimmer of light and your eyes snap open again. You bolt upright, eyes narrowed as you try to make out where it's coming from. As you scan the room, you can't seem to see anything amiss, and you reach for your water to take a sip.

Before you can set your mug down, it falls out of your hand, clunking against the floorboards angrily and splashing water all over the hardwood. When you try to blink, it feels difficult and heavy, and when you try to force yourself to bend down and reach for the mug, your hands and arms rebel, falling limply into your lap.

Sophie stirs beside you, waking at the commotion. Everything happens very fast after that.

A shadow from the corner of the room suddenly moves into view, and Sophie is out like a light. You can feel your eyelids drooping and you lean back — how come you're so tired all of a sudden?

The very last thing you see is glowing red eyes and a sharp grin, softened by the faint glow of the night light.

You blink awake, head fuzzy. When you go to rub your eyes, your hands refuse to budge, and you realize your wrists have been bound together behind your back. Terror slips down your spine and you look across the room. You make eye contact with your equally terrified girlfriend in a similar state. She has more restraints on, her legs and torso duct-taped to the chair.

"Well, well, if it isn't the lovely couple."

The voice is terrifyingly familiar, and you turn your gaze to the third figure in the room. Wanda flashes her teeth at you, her grin absolutely terrifying, and you feel your blood run cold.

She waggles her fingers at you playfully, eyes still glowing bright red.

"Hi, detka."

Your vision shrinks down to Wanda and only Wanda as adrenaline courses through your body. You remember her promise now.

"I told you I'd come back for you, detka," she sneers. "And I keep my word."

"No, no no no you can't," you insist. "You can't."

"Clearly," she drawls, self-satisfied, "reality begs to differ."

"You're not supposed to be here. You're supposed to be dead."

"Is that the welcome I get? Good to know just how much you missed me, my love. And whoever said I was dead? You should pay more attention to where you're getting your information from."

"I thought— but they said—"

"Everyone thinks and says things, detka," she scolds lightly. "That doesn't mean they're all true."

"There was no body," you murmur softly, reality finally dawning on you.

"There you go, detka."

You startle in your seat as Wanda's voice echoes closer than you remember her being.

"So, are you going to introduce us then, baby?"

Wanda tilts her head in the direction of Sophie, but her eyes remain locked on yours.

"Um, this is my girlfriend. Sophie."

You swallow heavily, the pit in the bottom of your stomach yawning wide open with dread.

"Girlfriend, huh?" Wanda's voice is low and dangerous, but you shove past it and continue on anyway.

"Uh huh. And I love her."

Wanda's smile curls up threateningly, and you see her eyes flash as she finally turns to regard your girlfriend.

"Well, that's certainly a strong word, little one."

"It's the truth," you assert, clearly having forgone any sort of survival instinct you might have previously had.

"Is it now? Well, I'm sure we can find another truth if we dig deep enough, can't we, detka?"

You frown down at your lap, shoulders now aching as your restraints begin to take a toll on your muscles and joints.

"That's the only truth."

Wanda looks back at you, smile wiped from her face as she walks closer.

"I thought I taught you to behave better than this, my love."

"Well, I'm not yours anymore," you spit angrily. "So you better let us go and leave."

"Hmm, I don't think I will."

As you open your mouth to respond again, her hands are suddenly glowing red and you begin to float up, unable to move at all.

"What are you doing?"

You try to ignore the tremble in your voice — you are not scared. You have to stay composed to get Wanda out of here.

"Oh, detka, I'm sure you recognize what I'm doing," she smirks up at you.

"No. No, no stop. Stop it. Stop, you can't do this."

She smiles at you again, sharp and lethal, and brings you down closer to her.

"I can do whatever I want with my property, detka."

"I'm not your proper—"

You're cut off by her hands slowly unbuttoning your thin sleep shirt. You never sleep with your bra on, and you're regretting that habit now as the cool night air brushes against your nipples.

"Stop it. Stop doing tha—"

Sophie's voice is choked off, and you crane your neck to see that Wanda has used your sleep shirt to gag your girlfriend.

"She should consider herself lucky enough to watch," Wanda hisses.

When she looks down at your now-exposed breasts, her eyes soften, and you squirm uncomfortably in the grasp of her magic.

"Now, where were we?" Wanda murmurs softly, reaching out to brush her fingers across pebbled skin.

"Stop, Wanda. You have to stop this."

Wanda only hums absent-mindedly, squeezing your nipples between her fingertips and watching as they harden.

"Wanda, sto—"

You're cut off by your own whimper, stuck in the back of your throat as Wanda leans down to seal her lips around your right nipple. Your eyes flutter at the sensation, and you feel her grin against your breast. Before you can remand her again, she begins to swirl her tongue in soft, familiar circles.

Just the way you like it, isn't that right, detka?

You choke off another whimper before it has a chance to escape, shaking your head furiously.

Wanda pulls away, leaving your nipple glistening in the low lighting of the room. You hear muffled grunts and complaints and pleas from the other side of the room where Sophie remains tied to a chair, but you're too embarrassed to look back up at your girlfriend now.

"Stop it, Wanda. You have to stop now."

"That's alright, detka. So maybe you're a little out of practice. That's okay, my love. Mommy will make sure you remember your place," Wanda coos softly, sliding to her knees as she holds you in place.

Her fingers snap the waistband of your panties against your skin, and you shake your head desperately.

"Please, no. Please, Wanda. Stop it."

She presses a soft kiss to your hipbone, hands sliding your panties down your legs and letting gravity drag them to a heap on the floor.

"Please, Wanda," you beg, reduced to tears now as she kisses her way up your thighs.

Wanda takes a moment to look back up at you, smiling lovingly before leaning in again. She keeps eye contact with you now as she swipes her tongue between your legs, the touch of the soft, wet muscle making you tremble. You wish she would look away again, but her eyes only glow brighter as she spreads your legs wider.

"I missed how you taste, detka," she murmurs into your pussy, eyes lidded.

"Please stop, Wanda," you whimper desperately, tears dripping.

"That's mommy to you, baby."

"Mommy," you whimper pleadingly, wishing more than anything that you could just get your body to obey you again. "Mommy, please stop."

Wanda tuts disapprovingly.

"I'm sure that's not what you really want, detka, is it? Don't you want to feel good? Don't you want to come?"

"Please, Wanda. Please stop."

"Wrong answer, detka."

Wanda dives back in, tongue laving furiously across your clit as she holds you open.

You bite down on your lip hard enough to draw blood in an effort to keep quiet. The tang of iron spreads across your tongue as you choke down your whimpers and moans.

You can't like this. You're not supposed to like this. Every muscle in your body is hyperaware of your girlfriend Sophie, still seated across the room, but you're too mortified to look back up at her.

Although, you think that even if you did try, you doubt Wanda would allow you to look anywhere else.

"Mommy, please," you try again, desperate and panicked.

Wanda ignores you, a low rumble of pleasure vibrating through you instead.

She murmurs softly against you, mouth pressed to your pussy reverently. Her tongue swirls softly around your clit. The rhythm is so steady and so familiar that you can't help but moan, the sound slipping past your control and echoing around the bedroom.

Sophie stops struggling for a moment, and then begins to struggle even harder, muffled curses uttered loudly from behind her makeshift gag.

"There's my good girl," Wanda coos into your cunt, rewarding the noise with even more pleasure.

She seals her lips around your clit and every muscle in your body tenses up in preparation. When she sucks, long and hard, you hear yourself cry out, overcome with pleasure. You let your head hang limply as she continues her assault, alternating between sucking on your clit and making your legs shake and softly cleaning the arousal between your folds. It's the most torturous kind of pleasure you've ever felt.

"I can't— mama, I can't— you have to stop please," you babble.

"It's okay, detka," she shushes softly. "Just be good for mommy. Keep your legs open and everything will be okay, remember? You just have to keep your legs open and mommy will take care of everything else."

You whimper desperately, still shaking your head.

"Oh, come now detka, we both know you want this. Don't be a stubborn girl, my love."

"No mommy, please. Please stop. I can't do this, please," you beg again, finally coherent enough to muster up a little more conviction.

Wanda only returns to sucking on your clit again, draining every last bit of rational sense out of your cunt.

She moans against your clit, and you tremble again, desperate and uncontrolled.

"Please stop, mommy," you whimper.

To your surprise, she does finally stop, pulling away and licking her lips. You have to work very hard to contain your disappointment, biting your tongue as she stands back up. Your cunt aches and you're still turned on beyond belief. As soon as the lust begins to fade, though, you start to feel horrible. You weren't supposed to like that at all. Your girlfriend, Sophie, is still sitting on the other side of the room and is probably heartbroken.

Before your thoughts have any chance to unravel further, Wanda releases her hold on you, only to reposition you manually. She sits down in the chair you'd previously occupied and pulls you down into your lap, facing forward. Facing Sophie.

"That's okay, detka. Maybe mommy just needs to try something else, hm?"

You squeeze your eyes shut, shutting out the broken look on Sophie's face and trying to ignore the sensation of Wanda's fingers tracing your folds.

"Please, no," you whisper, unable to make any sort of real sound.

Wanda presses a single finger inside you and you can't help the way you clench down around the intrusion. You can hear Wanda chuckle behind you, smug and satisfied.

"Look at you, detka. Telling me no yet so easy to spread your legs and take my fingers in, hm? I can feel you squeezing down around me, detka. Do you want another?"

You shake your head furiously, tears welling up again as you feel your body betray you.

"I think you do, baby."

Wanda pulls out completely, and when she comes back, you can feel two fingers nudging at your entrance now. Both of you gasp when her fingers slide in all the way. Your eyes fly open and you catch a brief glimpse of Sophie's face before Wanda is tilting your head back for you.

"Oh, detka," she murmurs softly. "What a good girl, practically swallowing mommy's fingers, aren't you? Listen to how wet you are for me."

She thrusts her fingers in and out, and you feel your face turning red as you hear the wet squelch of your slick.

"How does it feel, detka? You're moaning so loud for me. Doesn't it feel good? Haven't you missed this?"

Wanda doesn't miss a beat, fucking you open with her fingers as she continues to talk at you.

"You can't even keep your mouth closed, can you?"

Your tongue lolls out of your mouth, spit dribbling down your chin as Wanda's fingers piston in and out of you. With every thrust, you manage to eke out a choked moan, eyes rolling back in your head as she keeps you still with her other hand.

"Tell me you're mine. Tell me you belong to me. Tell me you're my property, detka," she insists, scissoring her fingers apart and stretching you wider.

You scream at the sensation, aching and desperate. Wanda fucks into you harder, pressing her thumb to your clit and making you jolt against her touch.

"Tell me, detka. Tell me who you belong to. Whose property are you, hm?"

You finally break, crying out as Wanda begins to rub her thumb in circles.

"Please, mommy, I belong to you. I'm your property, please. I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"

"And who makes you feel better, huh? Who fucks you better, baby?"

"You, mommy, you. Mama, you make me feel so good please— you're the best I ever had—" you cry out.

Wanda presses a kiss to your shoulderblade, one hand pulling your hips down against her and the other between your legs.

She pulls out and presses back in with three fingers, stretching you so wide you see stars.

Her spare hand comes up to rub your clit instead, swirling in fast, little circles that are all too much.

"Come for me, detka. You can come now. Come for mommy," she murmurs softly, and your entire body seizes up.

Your vision whites out as you tremble around her, milking her fingers for all they're worth as you finally come.

When it's all over, you crumple into her arms, exhausted and overstimulated.

"I was wrong, mama," you mumble into her neck. "I love you always."

Wanda presses a smiling kiss to your forehead and a red glow closes your eyes for you.

Her fingers dip slowly into velvet heat, pressing just where you open up. Wanda stares on, half-drunk on the awe and lust coursing through her veins, as she runs her fingers along the warm folds, collecting slick. She notices you shift in your sleep, fidgeting, eyebrows furrowed, before you settle again.

You're so warm.

And wet.

Wanda blushes, but can't pull her hand away. It's like something has completely taken over her body, possessing her every motion. You'd mentioned before, that you'd be okay with this, had given explicit consent in advance, but she'd never done anything about it before tonight.

She'd come home late, to a darkened living room and silent hallways. She'd found you already fast asleep in bed, soft sighs and huffs of breath curling past your lips into the chilly night air.

Here you are, beneath her, still asleep. The sheen of the full moon glows along the curves and slopes of your silhouette, and she can just barely see enough to make out the distinct glistening of arousal on her fingertips and painted along the insides of your thighs.

Wanda has to bite her lip to suppress a groan at the realization of just how turned on you must have been before falling asleep to end up like this. She presses her wet fingers to your clit, watching the way you shift again in your sleep.

She pulls her fingers away, licking her lips as she stares at the glisten on her skin. She places her fingers on her tongue, moaning softly at the taste of your arousal. Appetite whetted, she quickly and quietly rearranges the two of you, shifting you down the bed with her magic so she can kneel on the ground at the foot of the bed.

She wraps her hands eagerly around your thighs, all thoughts of control and conscience wiped from her mind as she dives in. She laps softly at the accumulated arousal on your inner thighs, cooing softly every now and then at the lingering, slightly sweet, slightly musky taste. She feels your thighs tense up where her tongue meets skin, and she grins to herself, knowing just how sensitive you are.

She follows a trail of whispery kisses up to the apex of your thighs, licking her lips again before she pries your legs open further. She leans in close, a whimper stuck in the back of her throat as she swipes the flat of her tongue through your folds and past your clit. You've always tasted good, but something about this specific scenario makes you absolutely irresistible. Addictive.

She makes another pass with her tongue, feeling the way your body jolts when her tongue flicks past your clit. Emboldened, she refocuses her efforts, swallowing the gathered arousal in her mouth so she can swirl her tongue around your clit instead. The effect is intense and immediate, a sharp huff of breath blown through your teeth and your entire body trembling as her tongue continues its obsessive, repetitive circular motion.

Wanda moans, a little louder than she would have found acceptable were she still considering the consequences, but she's too far gone to think of anything except making you come.

She works herself up just as much, thinking of the way your eyes flutter and roll back every time she makes you come and hoping that she can work hard enough to wake you up with an orgasm, one that neither of you will ever forget.

She closes her eyes and seals her lips around your clit, sucking softly and feeling the way your entire body reacts. She can hear the cry that spills past your lips, can sense when you're broken out of the reverie of your dreams, can feel the way all your muscles tense up as you clock the pleasure coursing through your body.

"W-Wanda." Your voice is hoarse, questioning.

Wanda, mouth still occupied, only moans in response, making you arch your back helplessly as the vibrations travel into your clit and up your spine.

"Please," you whimper, hips bucking up uncontrollably against her face.

She coos softly, swirling her tongue around your clit and watching the way you shudder with the motion.

"Please make me come."

Wanda only hums softly. After all, it's not like she has any other plans. All she can think of is that taste of your orgasm washing over her tongue, and saliva gathers in her mouth every time she gets a taste of your arousal.

"Please— please, oh fuck," you hiccup, already overwhelmed beyond belief. You fist the sheets in a bid for a little more stability, but they slide easily out of your grasp when Wanda sucks on your clit harder.

Wanda, on the other hand, is completely lost. Her only focus is on exactly how to work you to make you come. She hums softly into your clit, working her tongue against the little bundle of nerves as your back arches off the bed.

"Come for me, baby," she murmurs into your clit, and you can't help the way your body spasms into orgasm for her. You choke out helpless cries, feeling like you need more and yet feeling all too much. She works you through it softly, tongue softly lapping at your cunt as she collects the mess of liquid seeping from you.

You moan softly, pressing the back of your hand to your mouth as you lean back, embarrassed. Her mouth feels unreasonably good against your clit, even though she's not doing anything different from what she usually does.

"What time even is it?" you manage to get out, blinking blearily at the shadowy ceiling.

Wanda hums and places a final kiss against the inside of your thigh before appearing on the bed beside you.

"Bedtime again," she teases, chuckling lowly when you groan. She goes easily enough along with your every motion, pulling you in closer when you roll toward her, slotting her thigh between your legs comfortably. Once you've settled yourself into the crook of her neck, she hums, satisfied.

The rustle of the duvet confirms the sudden warmth covering your bare legs, and you curl into Wanda further.

"You did such a good job for me, baby," she's murmuring softly.

You can only hum in response, the feverish allure of sleep drawing you back in. The night brushes against your blush-hot cheeks and you sigh softly, feeling your chest deflate.

"Sleep well, detka," Wanda whispers, lips pressed to your forehead as your eyes slide shut.

You pant loudly in the living room, gasping for breath. The curtains are drawn, only a thin shaft of light spilling onto the rug and one arm of the couch.

Wanda is leaned leisurely back against the couch, smiling darkly up at you as you cry out. Her hand stops for just one moment, and she hums softly as you twitch in her grasp.

"You sure you don't want Sophie here instead, detka? You certainly seemed to be having a good time with her."

"No, no— no mommy just want you don't want her please— pleaseplease please let me come," you whine, squirming in Wanda's lap. She allows it for but a moment before her free hand clamps down on your hip again, holding you still.

"Really? I don't think I believe you…"

Wanda licks her lips, tracing soft, slow circles around your clit with the pad of her finger.

"Please, mommy. Don't want her, just want you. Just want mommy," you plead desperately, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes.

"Hmm," Wanda hums, tutting softly when you whine again. "I don't know if I believe that, detka. You were all over her." Her voice dips dangerously, eyes flashing. You can tell she's displeased, and you flush; she's not wrong—you had been basically attached at the hip to your newest work friend Sophie.

Normally, you wouldn't spend so much time with her, but it had been at least a little bit fun to see the way Wanda's jaw worked through her displeasure, and you'd enjoyed the dark glare she'd kept leveled on you the entire night. It sent shivers down your spine, knowing how much she wanted you, and so maybe you'd pushed it a little too far, leaning into Sophie heavier or laughing a little brighter than you normally world.

It's not fun now as Wanda stops for probably the 6th or 7th time in a row, bringing you down from the edge of your orgasm and holding you still as tears drip down your face.

"You look so pretty, detka," she murmurs, leaning forward to lick away some of your tears.

You inhale sharply, feeling more tears spill over as she chuckles in the back of her throat.

"Regretting it now, honey?" she coos softly, thumb still pressed to your swollen clit.

"I'm sorry, mommy," you whimper, trying your best attempt at the saddest puppy-dog eyes you can manage, but she doesn't budge.

"Oh, pretty girl, you should've thought about that before you decided to spend the night flirting with Sophie." Wanda hums dismissively as you whine and start crying again.

"No use crying over spilled milk, baby," she chuckles. "What's done is done. Maybe next time you'll think twice before you try another little stunt like this one."

"Please, mommy," you beg, wracking your brain for anything you can possibly say to appease Wanda. "Please, I belong to you, mommy."

Wanda looks at you sharply, interest piqued as she tilts her head slightly.

You chase the tail end of your declaration eagerly, perking up as you continue babbling.

"I'm yours, mommy, please. I just want you. I'm all yours."

Her thumb restarts its slow rhythm against your clit, and you nearly sob with relief, chasing the feeling as your mouth runs on and on without a single thought.

"Belong to mommy, please, just for mommy, all yours."

Her thumb is firm against your clit, and you shiver at the stimulation — it's too much and not enough all at once, and you yelp softly when she begins rubbing faster. Her entire hand is dripping wet, no thanks to you, but she just keeps looking up at you, encouraging the deluge of words flooding out of you.

"Please, mommy, please let me come, please."

Just as you reach the very edge, Wanda stops again, and you feel the tears restart without warning, pouring down your face as you whimper desperately.

"Tell me who you belong to again, baby," she coos, brushing your tears away with her thumb this time.

"You, mommy, please," you whine. "Belong to you."

"Then how come you were basically sitting on Sophie's lap the whole night, huh?"

You sob softly, tears drip-dripping unstoppably now.

"Because I wanted to make you jealous, mommy," you hiccup, whining when Wanda presses down on your clit.

"And have you learned your lesson, detka?"

You nod fervently, abashed and apologetic. Wanda hums absently, but her thumb starts moving again, and you melt into the touch.

"Please, mommy, I belong to you," you profess eagerly, tears still flowing.

"It's okay, detka, I know. Be a good girl and tell me again, why don't you? Whose girl are you, hm?"

"Your girl, mommy," you hiccup softly, moaning when she loosens her grip on your hip and lets you start to rock against her finger.

"Again, detka, say it again," she whispers, eyes sharp and intense.

"I belong to you, mommy. I'm all yours. Please."

"One more time, baby, I just wanna hear you say it one more time and then you can come, okay?"

Wanda looks nearly feral, her pupils blown as she leans into your space, her thumb rubbing fast, tight circles over your clit. You can't help but shiver, gushing against her hand again as your orgasm fast-approaches.

"I'm yours, Wanda," you murmur, softening as you see her breathe a shuddery sigh of relief. You also lean forward, drawn to her magnetic allure, and meet her in the middle for a feverish kiss.

"Mine," she mumbles as she nibbles on your bottom lip, thumb rubbing furiously over your clit.

You jolt back, crying out as she drives her index and middle finger into your cunt, working double-time in an effort to make you come.

"Come for me, baby. You can come now," she's murmuring into your neck, but you can barely tell she's saying anything at all, the vibrations of sound a distant consideration as your vision whites out completely.

When you come to again, she's rearranged you entirely so you're lying down on the couch. You have a moment to just blink and breathe as sound and feeling returns to you, and as soon as you can feel your fingertips again, you whimper.

Wanda, tucked between your thighs, is licking softly at your cunt, dark green eyes intent on your expression.

You tremble your way through another orgasm, shivering as she crawls up the length of your body to settle herself on your chest.

"You did such a good job, detka," she murmurs softly, leaning up for a soft kiss.

"Felt good," you whisper in return, blushing lightly when she grins into your neck.

She reaches up to run her fingers through your hair, and sits up momentarily to reach for a blanket that she promptly pulls over top of both of you. As you lie on the couch, you hear Wanda's breath slowly even out, and your eyes begin to droop.

Clearly, though, she isn't really asleep, because you hear her voice, softer and more hesitant, float up.

"You don't actually like her that much, do you?"

You smother your grin against the top of her head and pull her up for another kiss, this one longer and warmer.

"No, I don't," you reply easily, watching the way the crease between her eyebrows smooths over and she finally seems to relax.

"I love you and only you," you murmur softly. "You're my favorite person."

She hums contentedly and presses a kiss to your chin.

"I love you too, detka."

She sits up momentarily, squinting at you suspiciously.

You cry out desperately, eyes glazed over with tears as you shake in Wanda's grasp. Her hands are pressed softly to the curve of your hips, gentle yet firm all the same. It isn't enough—you need more.

Yet simultaneously, more is too much too soon. You shiver again when she flexes her thigh, a reproachful whine spilling out of your mouth as your overstimulated clit throbs.

If you were to look down, you would see her slacks stained beyond repair, soaked through with arousal and come. As it is, though, only Wanda's eyes are tipped downward. You can't help but lean back, fingers tangling in Wanda's hair as she rocks you down again and again against her thigh.

"Please, please— pleaseplease."

You yourself aren't sure what you're pleading for. You don't really want Wanda to stop, but you also can't handle more. At the same time, you crave more. It feels like you might die if you don't get to come again.

In the end, it doesn't really matter. Wanda makes the choice for you and grinds you down harder, nudging your clit against drenched fabric in an attempt to push you over the edge yet again.

You can't help the push and pull of desire flooding through your body—it's too much and too little all at the same time. Your orgasm roars, circling, but it doesn't creep any closer. Wanda's eyes are laser-focused where they watch your cunt drag against her leg, and you can't help but moan.

"My baby," she's muttering, pupils dilated and looking like she's nearly drunk on pleasure. "So pretty for me."

You can't help the way her words affect you, gasping loudly and then moaning again when she takes the opportunity to make use of her fingers yet again, reaching between the two of you to rub mercilessly at your clit.

"My pretty girl," she's murmuring, "come for me, darling. You can come for me."

She's chewing on her bottom lip now, and you flex your fingers, watching the shiver roll down the length of Wanda's spine as you tug on her hair. Your knees and hips are aching, sore from holding you up for so long, but you push away all the pains and complaints in favor of more.

You rock down against her thigh, against her palm again, feeling tingles of pleasure shoot up your spine. It hurts so good to fall apart like this, with only Wanda's hands to keep you anchored.

"Wanda," you plead desperately. "Wanda, please. Wanna—"

You cut yourself off with a moan as she finally tears her gaze away long enough to smirk up at you.

"Be a good girl, detka, come for me."

"S'too much, please, too much," you moan, eyes rolling back as she presses harder against your clit in response.

"Oh, but you can take it, can't you? Be good for me, pretty girl. Come on, you can do it," she murmurs, rubbing tight circles against your clit as she helps you drag your dripping cunt against her thigh.

"Come on, darling," she coos softly.

You jolt suddenly as she slips her fingers inside you, crooking them forward and moaning when you clench down around her.

"You feel so good, detka. So good for me."

Her voice sounds wrecked, and you shudder uncontrollably. She makes up for the lack of movement by pressing her thumb back to your clit, starting up a gentle circular motion and urging you onward to the third orgasm of the evening.

"Are you gonna be a good girl, darling? Are you gonna come for me?"

The combined stimulation is far too much to handle, and the orgasm crashes over you, drowning you in pleasure as Wanda slowly brings you down from it. Distantly, you're aware that you're tugging much to hard on Wanda's hair, but your hips are stuttering and her fingers are still buried inside you, and her thumb won't stop the agonizing, gentle circles over your clit, and you can barely keep track of how long your orgasm is, much less how hard you're clenching your fists.

Even as your orgasm dies away, she doesn't stop. In fact, she starts up even harder, fingers fucking into you now as she coos softly up at you. She presses a sloppy kiss to your collarbone and her thumb presses down harder.

You jolt, nerve endings electrified as she keeps going.

"Wanda, please," you slur, tears coming now as she pushes you farther along.

Her eyes are intent on the way they well up in the corners of your eyes, and she murmurs sweet nothings into your neck as she uses her free hand to pull you down harder into her fingers.

"Be a good girl for me, detka. You can do it, can't you? Just one more, just one more for me," she's saying, and it sounds muffled, like it's coming from underwater, but your body recognizes the words all the same. Her thumb rubs tight, fierce circles over your clit and your legs seize up, twitching and spasming, your mouth open in a silent scream as you come yet again.

"Wanda— Wanda Wanda Wanda, fuck, I'm coming, please, pleaseplease," you sputter out frantically, hips still rocking back and forth, unable to stop even as you feel your nerves burning up under the intense stimulation.

You can feel yourself gushing onto her leg, as if her pants weren't already wet enough, and you whine aloud as you squeeze down tight around her fingers again.

"Such a good girl for me, darling. You're doing so well for me," she's gushing, lips pressed to the skin just below your breasts, leaving soft kisses just at the top of your tummy.

"I'm so so proud of you, detka," she coos, finally letting up, fingers stilling as she slowly pulls them out of you.

You can only whimper, tears slowly tracking down your face as you lean forward and tuck yourself into her neck.

"You did such a good job, my love," she reassures you, one hand stroking softly along your spine as she pulls a blanket around you.

You only hum softly in response, eyes drooping as exhaustion sets in. You'll be up and about within the hour, but a nap would certainly do you some good, and Wanda's soft, lilting voice is no help in keeping you awake.

She continues murmuring, pressing kisses to the top of your head every now and then. As you drift off, you hear her gently shift into humming a slow melody, and it feels a lot like what you'd imagine a cat purring on your chest to feel.