Vita 🦋

You're still in the kitchen for christ's sake—and yet no part of you wants to tell Steve to wait so you can move it upstairs just yet. You're more eager than you'd expect to see where this goes.

"No," Steve says raspily, dragging his mouth off you.

You wonder if its because he knows you can't pay attention to anything else when he's kissing you — because you become rapidly aware of the way his fingers have slipped beneath the ties of your bikini.

"'M talkin' about these," He says, pulling back. His lips are pinker than ever, his eyes darkened with desire. He smirks. "They make for such..."

He toys with the string on one side, giving it the lightest tug. Your stomach twists up, in excitement though you realise, as it dawns on you that might not even make it up to the bedroom.

"Easy access." He finishes, releasing his hold on the string and instead letting the tie ping back against your skin with a snap!

Your breath shudders out of you, nipples peaking beneath your bikini, and suddenly you're absolutely sure you'll do anything to have this man ravish you. Steve must see it, the heaviness that sinks into your gaze, because he's grinning all of sudden.

His hands on your hips shift back, palming over your ass, before he mumbles, jump, and you're swiftly lifted up and onto the counter. The marble is still cool, though not enough to explain the goosebumps prickling along your body. That's from Steve entirely.

His hands bracket your body as he finds space between your parted knees, leaning in and kissing you hotly.

Your pulse rabbits in your chest, your hands finding their place either side of his face, pulling him closer. You're both on the same page now, you can tell.

Still, Steve still asks. "You okay?

He's toying with your bikini strings again as he does, evidently what he's asking about. You nod, a little mmhm coming from your throat because you're a little scared about how debauched you might sound before he's even started.

Steve grins, hazel eyes shining with adoration as he peers over your face. "Good. Just want my baby to have fun."

It's gooey enough to make you roll your eyes, just so you don't have to deal with how sappy it makes you feel. Still, with your hands cupping his face, you urge him closer.

"So long as you're also having fun, yeah?" You check, stealing a kiss from his lips. Your noses touch and Steve nuzzles in closer, another kiss shared.

"Fun? Absolutely." He sounds so sure, so you don't stop him when he pulls back. He glances down to where his long fingers are still playing with your bikini strings, then back up at you, a hunger to the lust in his eyes.

"See?" He says nonchalantly. "It's like you're gift-wrapped for me, honey."

Then he tugs on the string, slow and continuous, until the knots unravels, undoing your bikini. You watch with bated breath as he does the same on the other side til the fabric sits loose and free. The sticky evidence of how riled up he's got you just inches away.

Your cunt pulses hotly, heartbeat too strong. You need him to do something, like, yesterday.

Steve moves slowly, as if drawing out the moment for himself, dragging a finger down the crease of your thigh. It pushes the fabric with it, slowly revealing you to him. There's a string of slick still connected and you can hear the soft groan Steve makes the moment he sees it.

"Oh, honey," He coos. "S'cute how excited you are."

Some biting response rises on your tongue, but then his hand is moving again — his thumb this time, rubbing along the lip before he nudges your folds open more.

Something flames inside you, feeling oddly inspected, as his other meandering hand sinks lower and lower. You can feel your cunt clench around nothing, urging him in, but Steve only makes another soft groan. His finger traces just below your leaking hole, finally picking up some slickness.

Your patience runs out. "Steve," You say pitifully. "You said fun."

He grins, gaze switching up to your face, already well aware of your impatience from the twitch in your hips.

"Okay, baby, we will," He promises. Then he nods to behind you, "Lay back if you want."

Then he sinks to his knees, bringing his face aligned with your hot cunt. Your tummy warms, your hole clenching around nothing again, as what he wants dawns on you. Your hands stumble back, letting you lean back a bit, but your eyes stay glued to your boyfriend.

The air is thick with heat. Cicadas sing in the background, through the open door. You can't hear anything but your heartbeat.

Steve looks like a goddamn angel, on his knees between your legs, and something keens inside you when he uses both thumbs to spread your silky folds — then he leans forward and begins to lap softly at your clit.

A shuddering gasp is pulled from your mouth instantly. "Oh fuck," You whisper, already fighting against closing your eyes.

A heady warm pleasure beginning to drizzle through your core. Steve's tongue is warm, the way he's spread you giving him access to a thousand more nerves. You fall into heaving breaths as you try to keep up.

Steve licks, tongue flat, tortuously slow against you, gentle in a way that makes it hard to chase. It's a buzz of pleasure you can sink into, but it's almost... teasing.

"Steve," You whine his name again.

Steve moans in response, the hum of it against your clit friction enough to make you squeak. Your elbow buckles and you let yourself lower down to rest on them—it'll hurt like hell later but for now, nothing matter more than Steve's mouth between your thighs.

One of his hands shifts, the thumb moving from where its holding you open, down, down, til it rests near your entrance.

You clench unwittingly, hips tilting up, trying to clue him in. A whimper slips through your teeth — and you get another moan against your cunt in response.

But if Steve gets your hint, he doesn't show it. His thumb only moves to rest over your hole, beginning to draw slick circles, taunting you wickedly.

The combination of his lapping tongue and feathersoft touches are maddening. Your stomach burns hotly. Your hips twitch again. Your chest heaves, desperate noises warbling from your mouth. You're burning up from inside, tortured from the waves of soft pleasure driving into you.

"Steve," You whimper his name again, suddenly desperate for more. You want his fingers sinking in you, crooking and finding that spot he knows so well. You want the filthy suckle of his mouth, twisting his tongue over your clit in a way he's done before.

All your pleas come out in a stilted, jagged moan, "St— Steve, please, oh fuck, please—"

"Sh, sh," Pleasure tapers off as Steve pulls back to hush you, the thumb over your entrance still circling, pressing ever so slightly from time to time. "It's fun, isn't it? You're having fun?"

You're nodding quickly, not wanting him to stop, and he resumes his lapping, his other thumb shifting to ensure the hood of your clit is lifted.

You moan, languid and pitiful, as the same flow of pleasure begins — a drip, drip, drip, that feels amazing but not enough to satisfy.

You're not sure how long it goes on like that.

The stroke of Steve's tongue, relaxed and slow, continues whilst you squirm on the counter, leaking wetness onto his teasing thumb. It feels like hours, though you know it's realistically closer to barely twenty minutes.

All you know is at some point, the drip fills the bucket.

It'd been building so long you hadn't noticed — that at some point your pleasure, agitated enough in small amounts, over and over, was still working towards going on the edge.

You tense, shallow pants suddenly heaving your chest, your head thrown back and your back arching. Steve is the same, keeping his soft licks and gentle touches, and you writhe as the blazing feeling mounts.

"Steve," You mewl pathetically.

The next lick will be the one that does it. It has to be. You can't keep building.

The pleasure singes in your gut, Steve's tongue pushing over your clit, and it's not enough.

"S-Steve, please, pleasepleaseplease," Your voice sounds wrecked. "Just— c'mon- I'm— please—" You sound truly desperate.

Steve moans against you, low and hot, and he finally, finally pushes his thumb forward, sinking into the slickness easily. Clenching around it immediately, a flame zips up your spine, sending the bucket tipping over completely.

Pleasure melts over you, hot and fiery, and you make a high-pitched gaspy noise that Steve will undoubtedly call adorable later. For now, he works you through the orgasm dotingly.

Using one hand, he keeps your hips pinned to the counter while the other toys with your fluttering, gushing hole. You moan pathetically, hips working furiously against Steve's hold futilely.

His tongue keeps the same soft laps the whole time.

Eventually, you have to tap his forehead to get him to stop, when the pleasure fades off and you begin to near overstimulation.

Steve pulls back slowly, almost reluctantly. His face is pink, his lips sheened in your arousal, pulled in a smirk.

"Fun, right?" He asks. His voice is gravelly from underuse and you swallow back the desire it sends through you. You're still panting, still trying to catch your breath. You nod, knowing Steve wants the feedback, wants to know he's done well.

"Why stop then? Don't you wanna keep having fun?"

Your eyes snap back to him, focused now, as you realise no that is not what Steve was asking for.

You watch as his head lowers back down, then he slowly resumes the kitten-licks to you clit. His hungry eyes stay fixed on yours, taking in every twitch of your overstimulated body with a soft groan.

You realise, pleasure bleeding in through the overstimulation, that you'll let him do it over again.

You take his advice this time and lie all the way back.