she’s my priestess, i’m your priest

the store's full and she needs a moment to remember how exactly she ended up in that position: when she accepted to join you in a shopping spree the idea of public fucking never even crossed her brain but having you try on cute clothes in front of her? must be a gift from heaven between lacy bras and cute underwear that slips inside of her mind until it's the only thought she can keep for more than a minute. a kiss, two, three, how can you not want her hands all over you? how can't want take all over?

it's not planned. big chunky doctor martens boots with exquisite platforms are enough to make you salivate and suddenly? vi's stomach drops cause you're sitting on her left feet and the movement becomes a torture — makes your girlfriend swear she can feel you even under the thick leather of the shoe while that cute underwear set you were trying before makes wonders, hell-- since when is green such an interesting color? since when exactly are you into boot riding?

it's reasonable vi thinks, more worried about not being aware of when you pushed her to the dressing room's seat than the situation itself, now trapped in a small chair that holds her entire weight as she gets comfortable for you: when did your non-bought underwear start getting soaked like that? ignoring any detail becomes an impossible task now as you're whimpering, biting your lips, your inner cheek-- anything in your power to keep the pleasure for yourself, to keep going without the risk.

"that's it bug-- holy fuck. you're doing so good."

the moisten leather helps you move, and your cunt opens following the form of vi's shoe, delicious friction that makes the blood move in its circulation flow, take it to the erogenous zones: that fucking green set makes you look like a goddess and she cannot stop looking it ready to burn it to ashes, see the sweat that makes you glow under the white lights closer, the disheveled look, needy to cum.

"are you going to take a picture? they last longer."

it's entrancing, how you're capable of mocking her even when you're the one melting, a mere whisper of encouragement that makes vi blush. crushed, she's not surprised by the warmth that comes from between her parted legs, the result of her underwear now sticking to her pussy lips due to how turned on she is making it more painful to endure. half nervous, your girlfriend's voice never betrays her before simply adding: — "not really in for pics, bug-- you gonna be a nice whore for me and let me record you?"

and fuck you're dirty. you're pure filth and violet's aware of it, of every nasty thought, every crazy idea that crosses your mind in the worst moments. she knows that smile you gift her from before, how it tingles your brain right where she wants to before taking her phone out ready to press play.

fuck it if it's a mess when you become needier as the seconds pass: is it really greedy to ask for more? is it really your fault as your hand reaches the thick fabric of her black jeans and rub between her legs? it's a way of helping yourself out too, notice your girlfriend in delicious details you keep to yourself, relish in how her breathing picks up, how her cheeks keep stained in a subtle red shade.

"please let me eat you," you blurt out, words slipping on their own until it becomes a shared secret you love to be a part of, "vi-- please let me eat you."

it's like winning the olympics, a gold medal on fucking you up.

"what happened to the boot?"

"please."

"you will put on a good show for me, bunny?"

the need is a sin and violet's guilty. guilty of indulging your needs, always incapable of saying no. her muscles tense as she's holding her weight up so you can take off her pants, and there's no time to think about it twice, be aware of how pathetic she must look-- the ruined underwear that is now a proof of an overwhelming desire, the sound of your laugh that leaves goosebumps behind cause shame's not a valid option anymore-- god, your girl needs you, is that so crazy to admit?

your fingers touch her from over the cotton of her underwear and its soaked to the point its useless, a cruel reminder of how you're in control suddenly and she's there to comply, be good: of course you'll put on a fucking show for her, and the phone in vi's hand shake for a minute forgetting to angle the camera to your face-- oh ffuuuck is that her on your cheeks? glossy transparent now smeared on your lips like new a lipstick shade.

its evident at this point, the small budge that makes your mouth water, the smell in the air that makes vi dizzy for a moment. the sight of your girlfriend in front of you would make anyone misbehave — starting from the face she makes while looking down at you with half-lidded eyes, even how her body reacts to your touch, unable to stay still since she's desperate to get more.

delicious.

"does it hurt?" you question leaving soft kisses against her naked thighs, not giving much time to answer as your tongue rests flat against vi's engorged clit, a simple touch that makes her muscles tense at the contact, automatically dragging her hips closer to your face so you can be closer, deeper between her legs.

it does hurt, but how can she answer? your saliva blends with her juices and your touch's so soft it burns on the exposed skin and shit-- you're taking your time in pleasing her cause there's no need to rush it, to go faster even when it's a fucking store and there's people trying on clothes no more than footsteps away.

isn't it more exciting? the shot of adrenaline, the vaccine of danger. your mouth feels warm, welcoming. your tongue flicks around her swollen clit and the touch makes vi rest her head in the wall her body lies against, erratic breathing and whispered words of love, sure she's suffering from some kind of fever dream, a classic midnight fantasy.

so her bad luck streak-- how was that? when the blood tastes like licking metal in her mouth and you're sucking on her g-spot, its harder to stay silent, hand shoved inside your own green lace, your girlfriend swears you follow the same fast rhythm on your own cunt cause you'll always be the insatiable rabbit, the tortuous monster who cannot get enough.

she's not aware of the video no longer, even when she keeps recording it in what should be a decent angle vi can see the moment you make her underwear to the side, hand that forces the cotton as the other one spread her pussy lips further apart just to make it easier to see, gather some saliva in your mouth until you spit and the contact is enough to have vi getting crazy.

"stay still," she'd do anything you say without questioning, dry mouth as your thumb pushes against her hole, "they will hear us vi, do you want us to stop?"

"mm--no, no-"

its hotter than-fucking-ever. mouth closing against her big clit,taking it all in. lips surrounding her button, pink bush sticking to your face. you use two fingers at first slowly sinking them into her cunt, and you do it so damn good, so fucking nice when you work her to take them entirely, knuckles in, fingers slightly curved so they can hit that delicious spot you know by memory, entirely yours.

bad luck.

bad luck.

bad luck.

awfully loud, painfully unaware of her own self, when vi cums her body shakes uncontrolled, a fever that's impossible to sweat out when she feels you everywhere, soft lips that kiss her folds, gentle tongue that licks up and down, fingers that keep her stuffed, you never ease yourself even when the high comes in waves that drag her to the center of the earth. red face that matches the pink of her hair, mouth that hangs open, you have her, right? she leans on you cause you will always have her.

soft skin, the dressing room's silent and you thank for how sensitive violet can be, how desperate she is to cum, how easy it turns to please her.

so when you get a dirty look from the workers in the shop ten minutes after? fuck them, she owe it to you right? from that time she masturbated in the bathrooms of that same shopping mall — dude.

You don’t react much when Vi suddenly sits up, shuffling around over the mattress until she’s kneeling beside you and lowering the duvet off your lower half. Your legs are bare - you always sleep in underwear and one of Vi’s oversized, worn-out tees. And that’s never been more convenient than it is now, because all Vi has to do is hook her fingers around the waistband of your panties and slowly, slowly work them down your plush thighs. She sets your underwear to the side and drinks in the sight of you: the soft hair between your legs, the relaxed expression on your sleeping face, the swells of your breasts beneath your shirt.

With gentle hands, she spreads your legs for you, settling between them and again ogling at you - this time at your cunt, which glistens with arousal.

“Dirty girl,” Vi murmurs under her breath. “You need this, huh?”

Still knocked out, you sigh in your sleep, head turning over on the pillow. Vi smiles, then focuses again at the task at hand. With a broad tongue, she traces a line through your folds, unable to stifle the moan that leaves her lips when the taste of you afflicts her senses. She licks at you slow and steady, from your hole up to the bud of your clit, until she hears you sigh again, this time drawn-out and higher-pitched. Her icy blue eyes watch you from behind fluttering lids as she traces imaginary shapes into your pink, twitching cunt, your slick smearing onto the tip of her nose and the flat of her chin.

Vi’s the kind of girl who gets pleasure from giving - so it’s no surprise that she’s gushing wetter with every minute spent between your legs, her lips pursed around your clit and sucking. She moans, pants against your puffy cunt, angles her face in new ways to sink her tongue further into your pulsing hole. She’s so desperate for friction she slips a hand under her own weight, fingers dipping beneath her briefs until they reach her own cunt. She sighs in relief as her fingers circle her clit, pushing through her wetness to spread it over her warm folds - every twitch of her own fingers makes her moan against your pussy, tongue flicking against your clit.

It was only a matter of time until you woke up and discovered her like this. When you finally do, groggy and so aroused it’s overwhelming, you peer your bleary eyes down at Vi. Her eyes meet yours, and one corner of her lips quirks upward into a smirk - but she doesn’t stop.

“Oh god,” you moan suddenly, caught off-guard by how close you are. How long had she been fucking you like this? It’s a sinful thing to wonder, and the thought of her playing with you as you’d slept hurtles you even closer to the edge.

The wet sounds of Vi’s mouth against your pussy and her fingers pushing into her cunt make you dizzy - your hips lurch upward off the mattress as your orgasm begins, hands frantically searching for something, anything to hold onto. You settle with Vi’s hair, short fuchsia locks wrapped around your fingers as you come with a wrecked sob.

As you’re still panting, your head spinning, Vi sits up again, covered in you from nose to chin. She beams at you, blue eyes mischievous.