devi

“mírame, mami,” he murmurs, voice low and raspy from the joint he's been nursing. one of his elbows is braced by your head, the other hand gripping your jaw, thumb pressing into your bottom lip so your mouth stays open for him.

he takes a long, lazy hit, cheeks hollowing, eyes half lidded and red. then he leans in close, lips brushing yours, and exhales.

thick, sweet smoke floods your mouth. you cough a little, laughing into it, but he doesn’t pull away. he seals it with a messy kiss, tongues sliding slow and wet while the smoke curls between you. you feel it hit— warm, heady, making everything softer and sharper at the same time. your pussy clenches around his cock and he groans right into your mouth.

“fuck… that’s it. good girl,” he praises, hips snapping forward harder now, the wet slap of skin loud in the tiny room. “y' look so pretty taking my smoke like that. mouth all open for me.”

hanta fucks like he’s got nowhere else to be. deep strokes that grind right against that spot that makes your toes curl. he’s not huge but he’s long and he knows exactly how to use it, curving his hips just right every time.

he pulls back enough to take another hit, then grips your face again, tighter.

“open.”

you do— tongue out like a slut because you already know what he wants. hanta lets a thick string of spit drip from his mouth straight onto your tongue, messy and obscene, before he shotguns more smoke right after it. the mix makes your head spin. you swallow without thinking and he curses in spanish under his breath.

“tan sucia… you like that shit, huh? my spit down your throat while i’m balls deep?”

you nod frantically, nails digging into his back, leaving little crescent marks on his tan skin. he laughs and spits on your tongue again, watching with dark eyes as you take it. then he’s kissing you sloppy, licking into your mouth like he wants to taste the smoke and spit and desperation all mixed together.

his pace picks up. one of his tape strips snakes down, wrapping loosely around your thigh to pull your leg higher, spreading you wider so he can fuck deeper.

“look at this pussy,” he groans, glancing down between you. “so fucking wet it’s dripping down my balls, baby. you get this messy just from me getting you high?”

“hanta— ngghh— please—”

“please what?” he grins. another hit. another shotgun straight into your open, panting mouth. this time he follows it with more spit, letting it drip onto your tongue before he kisses you so deep you forget how to breathe.