Devils & Angels

This was not what you’d expected when the boys first approached you. Both Remus and Sirius seemed so confident in themselves and secure in their relationship, and the thought of them inviting a third person, let alone you, seemed entirely insane. You knew that Sirius and Remus were wildly possessive of each other, but they'd insisted it was okay, and you'd agreed.

The rules were made perfectly clear—you weren't to be intimate with either of them unless the other was present. You weren't to flirt with them or touch them without the others explicit permission. And you weren't dating them. And that was fine.

But this, your current circumstance with the two boys, was not at all what you'd been expecting; in fact, it exceeded your expectations. Remus had laid himself on the bed, demanding that you both straddle him—Sirius on his waist and you on his face. It amazed you how talented Remus was and how he could split his focus so beautifully between the two of you.

His wicked tongue snacked between your slick folds, prodding at your hole with expertise, making you gasp into Sirius’ kiss. Remus grabbed your hips to pull you against his mouth as Sirius slowly seated himself on his cock, causing both of your lips to part in breathy moans felt against the others tongues. Sirius looked like a beautiful piece of art, with his lips parted and his inky-black hair a mess, as he took every inch of his lover while his own cock bobbed beautifully against his stomach.

You wanted to take him in your hands to feel how hard he was beneath your fingers. You wanted to take him in your mouth until the wiry black hairs at the base of his cock tickled your nose. You could do neither. Sirius fisted a hand in your hair to cement your mouth to his so that he could kiss you as though it were his last night on earth.

It was messy— with open mouth, teeth, tongue, and saliva. You weren't going to complain, not when Remus’ tongue was driving you closer and closer to orgasm in record time. Sirius fondled you without shame or hesitation, touching here, there, and everywhere he could reach, paying special attention to your nipples as he pawed your breasts with heavy hands.

Unable to help yourself, you reached out and wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking him with slow, firm flicks of your wrist while Remus' thrust into him. He felt like iron beneath your fingers, impossibly hard. You were both lost, entirely under Remus' control. You cried out when the boy's tongue pushed through your folds and into your hole, causing your thighs to shudder and shake around his head.

"T-here!"

Your voice was muffled by Sirius' tongue in your mouth, but Remus understood and prodded with his tongue again, hitting the same spot again and again. You braced a hand against his abdomen, which dipped beneath your touch as pleasure rippled through him in time with both of yours.

“Oh, fuck!” Sirius gasped against your lips.

If all of your senses weren't heightened and drawn so tight within your body, you would have been embarrassed about how quickly you came—a record time, to be sure. Had it been five minutes? More or less? It truly didn't matter. White-hot pleasure lashed through your body, starting in your toes and crawling up your spine until it was pouring from your mouth and into Sirius', where it retraced its path down his spine.

Fireworks exploded like the Fourth of July behind your closed eyelids. But it wasn’t just fireworks. It was like shooting stars and meteor showers, and the northern lights were dancing through your veins, setting your whole body alight.

You felt Sirius twitch beneath your fingers, felt Remus’ stomach dip beneath your hand, and felt him groan against your cunt, as they followed swiftly behind you, hurting towards their own release like a train with its breaks cut.

“Stop moving.”

You whined softly in response to the rough tone with which he spoke. You tried to be still, but it was impossible, and instead, you squirmed, gasped, and preened under the feeling of his hard cock splitting you open. Remus filled you so completely; it felt like he was pressing against your cervix or your voice box, which would explain why you couldn't speak.

You were seated in Remus' lap, your legs spread and wrapped around his waist, your arms around his shoulders, and your face buried in the crook of his neck. He was studying again, and you were bored again. While you understood his grades were important and that he wanted to pass his classes, not that there was even a remote possibility of him failing, you wanted his attention.

You were more important than questions about potions. Especially considering you were sitting in his lap, almost naked, and practically begging him to fuck you. "Remus." You breathed his name in a soft moan as you swirled your hips in a slow circle, making his grip tighten around his quill to the point that it bowed and almost snapped. "I want you. Please, baby."

He almost gave in. Your breath was hot on his skin, and your lips were a silken caress as you kissed and sucked a dark mark into his neck. He could feel how wet you were just from sitting on him; he could feel it each time your slick walls squeezed around him. He was sure his jeans were soaked. His hand came to rest on your backside, long fingers splayed wide and grabbing greedily.

Remus gave you a taste, a brief preview of what you'd get if you were a good girl, and stayed still. Your eyes rolled back as he thrust his cock into you, catching on every mind-numbing spot on his way. You felt his cock press tightly against the spongy spot when he stopped and settled back into place. "I have to finish this," he said with a sigh. His blunt nails dug into the fat of your arse as he struggled to fight down his own desires.

It would have taken no effort for him to shove his books and scrolls off the desk and sprawl you atop it. In a heartbeat and the blink of an eye, he could be shadowed above you, driving his cock as deep as possible into your slick walls, searching for that exquisite high that he could only find with you.

As though you sensed his hesitation, you rolled your hips again, drawing back and sinking down the length of his cock with a drawn-out moan. His fingers gripped your arse tighter, your doughy flesh aching with the familiar feeling of bruises. "I need you now," you whined, words emphasised by the satin clutch of your cunt.

Remus hissed beside your ear; the sound was strained, and his breath was hot when it hit your skin. "My girl's so fucking needy today," he cooed mockingly. His tone was rough, somehow even rougher than his fingers, which now kneaded the flesh of your arse while you rolled and swirled your hips, chasing the climax that was starting to tease you. His hand came down hard and without warning against your arse, making you squeal and jolt in his lap.

"I said stop moving."

Once again, you whined in response. His tone was darker this time, holding firmly to the warning that you wouldn't like the punishment if you didn't listen to him. Remus grabbed you by the hair and pulled hard, dislodging it from the ponytail you'd had when he brought your face to his. His brows were pinched together, and his lips were set into a tight line. "If you can't be a good girl and sit still for ten damn minutes, then I'm not letting you cum tonight."

He felt the splash of moisture at your core and how it dripped down his shaft; your tight hole was leaving a creamy ring at the base of his cock. He gripped your hair tighter, tingling your scalp with a pleasurable sort of pain that made you dig your nails into his shoulders through his shirt. You felt him shiver beneath and you felt his lips ghosting over yours to swallow the needy whines you were making.

"Remus, please," you repeated, using the sweetest voice you could muster in that moment. The climax that had been teasing you was ebbing away, slipping through your fingers like water, swept away like leaves in a summer breeze. Tears glistened on your lash line as you chased his mouth, kissing him softly and slowly, letting your tongue coax his out to play.

When you finally pulled away, taking in a much-needed breath, you thought you might have won. Lines of saliva kept your lips connected, and he was staring at you with dark desire. His eyes were blown with lust, and you felt him twitch within your warm walls.

"No."

You whined, a small sob welling up in your chest as he held tight to your hair, refusing to let you hide against his neck. "Now," he growled through his teeth, forcing you to meet his eye. "You sit fucking still, like a good girl, and warm my cock. Maybe after, I'll fuck you."

You came back to yourself a piece at a time, almost as though you were liquid being poured down your own spine, your consciousness slowly filling your body. You felt like you were floating somewhere above the clouds. It was only Sirius' soft voice that brought you back into the present moment. Sirius rubbed his hand slowly up your back, his calloused fingers rough against your skin, which was still sizzling and sensitive. You whined under his touch, your body twisting restlessly and your hips wriggling enticingly.

He might have been enticed to fuck you again had he not already broken you.

"There she is," Sirius cooed when you peeled your heavy eyelids open to stare at him. Your eyes were glassy and your vision was blurred, but he was a beautiful vestige that broke through the haze that clouded your thoughts. His hair was damp with sweat, clinging to his forehead and sticking to his neck in the shape of inky-black tendrils. As you blinked away tears, a slow smile crept across your lips. You could see the marks you'd left on his skin—shallow scratches and love bites here, there, and everywhere.

He looked perfect; no, he was perfect. Sirius was the only man who loved you how you needed to be loved, the only one to fuck you how you craved to be fucked. In the evening, when you'd had a long, tough day, it was his cock that split you open while your ankles framed his pretty face. It was his palm prints that stung your face, thighs, and arse, and it was his name you screamed.

"Hi, pretty girl," he whispered as he leaned down to press soft kisses against your forehead and cheeks before finding your mouth. You parted your lips for him, tasting yourself on his tongue when it swept through your mouth in search of your own. It was messy and passionate; a string of saliva connected your lips when he slowly retreated.

"Hi," you answered, your voice dripping with exhaustion. You managed a sleepy smile as he manoeuvred you onto your back. "Siri, m'all achy."

“I know, but you did so good.” His voice was deep, having dropped an octave or two and turned into a rasp that made you rub your thighs together. You felt the sticky mess of both your orgasms against your skin and whined. You swore he did it on purpose—he always did. Sirius treated it almost like a game. He could turn you off with a look across the room, a simple touch, or even a word when whispered in that rasping voice.

He moved to kneel between your legs, which fell open for him, either on instinct or invitation. Sirius chuckled as he ran a hand up your leg, starting at your shin and then pausing for a moment at your need before drifting slowly, higher, and higher. "Felt so good fucking you, pretty girl. Pussy was so wet for my cock. She must have missed me today, huh?"

Your breath hitched when his fingers prodded the crease of your thigh, right where it met your mound, so close and yet still so far. Every word he said and every touch he made felt like lightning arching through your body, like an electrical current that left you squirming on the sodden sheets. You were hypersensitive, to the point where it still felt like flames were licking up and down your spine, but Sirius could play you like a damn fiddle. Each stroke of his fingers was precise enough to hurl you into the depths of desire all over again.

"Siri," you gasped as you canted your hips towards his touch. He smirked at you, a lazy tipping of his lips that made your heart somersault inside your chest. He was looking at you with dark, hooded eyes, as though you were the only woman in the world. He looked starved, and you wanted desperately to satisfy his hunger.

"You look so good like this," he cooed as he pushed his fingers through your puffy lips, the tips of them gathering the mess of your mixed releases. You keened when he slipped those same fingers inside your hole, pushing the mess inside as his lips followed the path of your tears into your hairline. Sirius moved his mouth to your ear, where he nibbled on your lobe and where he could whisper his next words as though they were a terrible secret for you alone.

"Look so fucking pretty with my cum leaking out of you. It makes me want to fuck another load into you. Would you like that, pretty girl? I'm sure you would. You're such a good girl for me; take my cock so well, and always use your manners when you want to cum." He was rambling, drunk on you, high from the contact of his lips on your skin and his fingers in your cunt.

Your eyes rolled back into your skull when his thumb found your clit. You grappled wildly at his wrist—whether to pull him closer or push him away, you didn't know yet. "I-I c-can't." You said quickly, words strained as he circled your nub once and then twice, his fingers working you quickly into over stimulation. He'd made you cum six times tonight already; you didn't think you'd survive a seventh time.

"You need a rest first?" He hummed, his lips finding your neck so that he could suck a dark mark into your skin. "You deserve it. You did so well for me; always do so well for me. I'll get you cleaned up and then get you some water. How's that sound?"

You could only hum in response when he finally removed those damnable, perfect fingers, granting you the rest your body craved.

To say that you and James Potter hated each other was too kind of a word. The two of you loathed each other with every fibre of your beings and beat of your hearts; when you spoke, the hatred was palpable, radiating from the both of you in near tangible waves.

It was for that reason that your current predicament would come as a complete surprise. You were on his bed with your hands tied at the small of your back with his Gryffindor tie looped tightly around your wrists. James had a hand fisted in your hair to push your cheek into the mattress while he teased the tip of his cock between your slick folds, leaving your hips twisting for more, which he was refusing to give you.

"Say it." He demanded as his cock hit your clit, leaving you clenching around nothing. James knew exactly what you wanted, but he wasn't prepared to give it to you until you gave him what he wanted. His hand landed on your arse, the fat of your left cheek bouncing and jiggling as you squealed. James had never been gentle with you; he never would be. "Tell me what you want."

"No."

Even in your ears, your voice sounded weak and small. You hated how it wavered with the intensity of the desire he'd ignited in the pit of your stomach. He growled above you, and you heard him suck in a breath through his teeth. It was your only warning before his hand landed on your ass again, in the same spot, harder this time, leaving a perfect imprint of his palm on your skin.

He whistled lowly as your skin deepened in colour. He could make out the shape of all five fingers and could see the blood rushing to the surface of your skin. Suddenly he was shadowed over you, his chest pressing into your back and his abdomen against your hands. You wriggled impatiently and tugged at your wrists, his tie chaffing them. James pulled hard on your hair, forcing your head back so he could brush his lips along the shell of your ear. You whimpered. The position pushed his cock deeper between your folds so that the length of him was resting along your slit, which drooled around him.

"Come on," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. He bucked his hips against you teasingly, the slap of his pelvis hitting your arse echoing sinfully loud around the empty room. You whined pathetically. "Be a good girl. Say you want my cock."

He was wearing you down so fucking quickly. You wanted to be a brat; you wanted to deny him what he wanted, but your cunt was drooling. You bit hard at the inside of your cheek, teeth gnashing until you tasted blood.

“No.” You repeated.

His hand came down hard, and without warning, the resounding crack of his palm on your left cheek made a sickening echo. You squealed, your hips twisting to escape the assault, tears springing from your eyes, and slick looking at your core.

"Don't fucking test me, or you're not cumming at all tonight. Or this week."

“Please.” You mumbled, his threat encouraging your voice. You knew that he was deadly serious. He would edge you into oblivion before he let you cum. You swore you heard him smile above you.

"Please what?"

"Please fuck my pussy—ah!"

He slammed into you without preamble, seating himself comfortably within your snug walls. The stretch of his cock bordered between pleasure and pain, as it always did, his sudden intrusion punching the air from your lungs. James filled you so completely, pressing as deep as he could, right up against your cervix or somewhere in the back of your throat.

He kept his hand in your hair and pushed your face into the mattress again, muffling the sounds of your pornographic moans. James fucked you like he always did, hard and fast, without mercy. He never treated you like a person but rather like a toy—an object to take his frustrations out on, a hole to fill with cum. But you liked it, and he knew you did. The wet squelching of your cunt clinging to him each time he pulled out and pushed back in was a clear indication that you got off on his behaviour.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Her touch was gentler but no less effective. Lily Evans was a siren, blessed with poetic beauty and ethereal femininity. Everything she did was for a purpose, done with careful consideration and forethought, and tonight it was all done to drive you insane.

She'd let you come only once as she kitten-licked your wet folds, the tip of her tongue flicking gently against your clit—a slow, steady rhythm that lured you to the brink of orgasm. The girl was soft compared to James, who was sitting in the corner, palming his cock through his boxers while you arched of the bed, cumming with a soft cry as his girl pushed two fingers into you.

"Fuck—please. Please, Lily, please, please." Her fingers were brushing over a blissful spot inside your gummy walls, and you couldn't help but moan prettily as she touched you. You felt her lips move against your clit, pulling into a soft smile as she ran the flat of her tongue from your hole to your throbbing nub. When she finally lifted her head, red hair tickling the inside of your thighs, her chin was shiny—a sinful mixture of slick and spit that had you clenching around her fingers.

"Please? Please what? You have to use your words." She cooed gently. You knew that she didn't mean to sound condescending, or maybe she did; you weren’t sure any more. It was emotional whiplash. Normally, Lily was this perfectly polite, sweet woman who wouldn't dream of hurting anyone (except perhaps James when they'd first met).

But right now, she embodied the perfect soft-domme persona. She was controlling you and your pleasure, keeping you laid on the bed of fresh linens and a dozen pillows. The smell of vanilla candles burned faintly. James's soft groans became background noise as she played you like a violin. Each stroke of her fingers was precise, pushing you closer to the edge. She knew your body and knew that when the dam broke, there would be no stopping it.

“Please,” you begged, breath escaping in gasps as she pressed her thumb against your clit, drawing small, slow circles around it. "I'm gonna cum, Lils. Please, please, can I? Can't hold it any more. M'gonna cum, please, fuck, please."

Feeling your walls starting to quiver around her fingers, she slowed her pace, the wet squelching of your impending orgasm echoing around the room in time with James' groans. When your legs started to shake and your back was bowing into a pretty arch, she pulled them from you and brought them to her lips to lick clean.

“Oh no, you can't cum, baby. But thank you for asking.” Even though her words are cruel, they sounded so sweet—sweet enough to make angels cry.

It felt like the pleasure was literally about to kill you. The buzzing of the toy held firmly against your throbbing clit, coupled with the two cocks splitting you open and the third nudging the back of your throat, was going to kill you.

"You can give us another, can’t you, sweet girl?" Remus said, his voice a combination of utter tenderness and complete authority that made your eyes roll back into your skull. If he'd been able to see the expression of pleasure etched upon your facial features, he might have mocked you, cooing about how pretty you looked with tears and spit smeared on your face. He liked seeing you messy and cock-drunk.

As it was, James obscured his view. The dark-haired boy was standing on the bed at your side, his fingers threaded through your hair as you bobbed on his cock, your lips stretched prettily around his girth, spit dripping from the corners of your mouth and down your chin. As you swallowed more of him, his cock nudged the back of your throat, and he exhaled a huff of pleasure.

You moaned around him. The salty taste of his pre-cum was like heaven in your mouth. You ran your tongue along the underside of his shaft, tracing the prominent vein with the tip, making his hips stutter. You could tell that he was close and wanted to taste more. "Shitshitshit," he growled beneath his breath, his fingers tugging hard on your hair to pull you off before he could cum.

A harsh slap on your inner thigh brought you back to reality, reminding you that there was more than James here. Sirius' calloused fingers rubbed your skin to soothe the sting of his slap. Sirius had always been fond of anal and had relished the training of your tight hole. The process had taken a considerable amount of time and lube, but you managed to fit all of him, feeling like his cock was stuck in the back of your throat.

He thrust roughly into you, making you moan loudly. The pleasure made you clench, which in turn had Sirius hissing in your ear as your tight hole got tighter still. “He asked you a question. You gonna cum for us?”

It was almost as though the three of them were intent on killing you. They'd already pulled four orgasms from you, leaving your bones turned completely to jelly and your mind wandering out of your body. You were so high in the clouds that you didn't think you'd ever come down, but another wave of heat was starting to simmer in your abdomen.

Sirius slapped your thigh again, making you squeal and buck. It was at that moment that Remus brought your attention back to him by pressing the buzzing toy more firmly against your throbbing clit. Warm honey seemed to snake through your veins, causing your muscles to twitch, a tell-tale sign of the orgasm about to rip through you.

Remus had his cock buried deep in your cunt, enjoying the feeling of Sirius moving so roughly through your walls. Your legs were wound loosely around his waist, your feet dangling limply in the air as the three of them used you. When you found Remus' eyes, they were blown wide; there was something feral in them that made you clench somehow even tighter. He had asked a question but was demanding an answer, and the correct answer was that you came again right now.

As though sensing how close you were, he began to move. Remus pulled back in time with Sirius, leaving you feeling empty and squirming between them. And then the two of them slammed forward, both of them hitting that sweet spot inside you but from different angles. You keened loudly, head thrown back, and James took the opportunity to shove his cock back into your mouth.

His hand tightened around your hair and held you, your nose pressed into the wiry curls at the base of his shaft. You gagged violently around him until he finally let you up for a much-needed breath. It lasted only a moment before he thrust back into your mouth, setting a gruelling pace that had your jaw aching. “Fuck, her mouth s’too good. Got me so close, sweet girl.”

Sirius dug the fingers of one hand into the doughy flesh of your inner thigh, leaving bruises of his fingerprints behind while the other rose to palm roughly at your tit. Your nipples were hardened peaks that crowned the tops of your tits, still throbbing and aching from the earlier pinch of the clamps Remus had made you wear during your first four orgasms. Sirius pinched one of them while James rolled the other one between his thumb and forefinger, but it was Remus and that wicked vibrator that finally did you in.

The knot in your stomach unravelled quickly and suddenly, coming undone all at once. The vibrations of the toy could be felt through your gummy walls, which twitched and spasamed around the boys, sending them both over the edge with you. You tasted James' cum first, the tang of it hardly penetrating through your senses; you felt Sirius and Remus fill you with their thick cum, but you were gone.

Completely and utterly gone.

“That’s it,” Remus growled through is teeth. “Told you you could give us another. Such a good girl for us.”

Your body was a slave to the pleasure; it ripped through you, making your muscles twitch and spasm. The vibrations of that toy against your clit were merciless and unrelenting, sending you sky-rocketing as you struggled to swallow around James' cock.

You must have blacked out; in fact, you are sure you did. When your eyes next opened, you found yourself lying on the bed, your head resting in James' lap, his fingers carding through your hair. Remus was rubbing a warm palm up and down your spine; your skin was sweat-slicked and burning. Sirius had a warm cloth in his hand, using it to clean between your thighs, earning a whine from you and a relentless wriggle of your hips as he moved over your sore clit.

Remus leant down to press a kiss against your temple as your eyes closed again. “Did so good tonight, princess.” His voice was sweet like honey, dripping over your sensitive skin in a way that was sure to lull you to sleep. You hummed softly as you felt the bed dip, shift and bounce as somehow the three of them settled in around you.

It wasn't always like this, but when it was, it was wild and invigorating. The two of you were a tangled mess of limbs, and heavy breaths made between frantic kisses. It was almost painful to have your lips not touch his. His hands were everywhere and nowhere all at once, leaving you restless and squirming in his lap. You were completely and irrevocably lost. The taste of his mouth was intoxicating—a robust mix of his natural flavour, the faded mint toothpaste he'd used that morning, and the spicy tang of the whisky he'd been swigging from all night.

You were drunk, hopelessly so, clinging to him as you straddled one of his thick thighs, your arms wound around his neck while you attacked his lips with swift kisses and zinging bites. James didn't mind, not one bit, because he was in a similar state. His head was swimming with the buzz of alcohol and the taste of you; his senses captivated and ensnared by the sweet sounds you were making. "You're so pretty," he whispered softly, as though the words were a precious promise meant only for you.

The adoration and utter love in his voice made your breath catch in your chest. You loved the boy; you realised that in that moment. You wanted to marry him; you wanted to have his children; you wanted to spend your life with him, always by his side. The words died on your tongue before they can be given life, morphing into a sigh that he stole from your lips with cherry-sweet kisses that send shocks of pleasure shooting down your spine.

He knows, though.

He could feel your love in the way you cradle his face in the palms of your hands, thumbs sweeping over the apples of his cheek as though to brush away non-existent tears. He could feel it in the way you whisper his name against his lips and steal the breath from his lungs. He could feel it in the slow grind of your hips over his thigh and the sticky-sweet trail left on the fabric of his jeans. He's gentle tonight, letting you use him how you wanted—the usual male aggression that fuels his ego having melted away only to be replaced with something softer.

You don't mind.

You'll have him however you can. You craved him in all forms—the soft and sweet, the wild and untamed. "How are you feeling, baby?" he murmured against your neck, caressing you with his lips. You couldn't help but whine. The way his voice dipped into a lower octave, rough with desire, had your slick walls clamping around nothing.

“Feels s'good,” you replied as your hips rolled more firmly along the column of his thigh, making you both groan beneath your breath. The rough fabric of his jeans had you slowly going insane; the rips were a delicious caress against your cunt through the thin, wet barrier of your knickers that sent wisps of pleasure shooting through your veins. James could feel how wet you were; you grabbed at him here, there, and everywhere, just to ground yourself in the moment. Your head was empty of thoughts, and he couldn't have been happier.

"Yeah?" He breathed, his head tilting to the side but his lips never leaving your skin. James left little love bites in the wake of his mouth, blue-purple signs of how hungry he was and how much he loved you. "I can feel how wet you are, love. Can't wait to get home and fill that pretty pussy with my cum. You want that? Want my cum inside you, pretty girl?"

You felt the splash of moisture his words brought to your core as you floated further into the clouds. James grabbed your hips when your pace faltered, the burn in your thighs becoming too much. He slid one of his hands around to the small of your back and then travelled south, his big, warm palm grabbing a handful of your arse to help you along. He wrapped the opposite arm completely around you and held you to his chest as you rode him.

The stitches holding your soul to your body began to unravel, causing your moans to become louder. James didn't mind—not at all, not one bit. He liked when you were loudly proclaiming his name to the heavens as though he were a god and you were praying at his feet. He can tell that you're embarrassed by how you've cemented your mouth to his neck and how your nails dig into his back as you press closer. Even drunk, you're shy and nervous.

He doubted any of them were paying attention to the two of you tucked away in the corner—not that he'd have cared if they were. With the volume of the muggle music, it easily drowned out your moans as an orgasm rolled through you. It felt like the peak of a roller coaster: a slow build-up, and then as you fell down the other side, all the tension exploded through you, shooting up your spine, down the backs of your legs, and everywhere else. James crowded around you, smothering your senses, and held you impossibly tight as your eyes rolled back into your skull.

He found himself painfully hard, his cock throbbing in the confines of his jeans. He hummed against your ear as sobriety crept through his mind. After a while, you came back to reality with the ache in your clit now throbbing in time with the beating of your heart.

You felt so relaxed but still wound tighter than an antique clock. His hand came up to capture your chin and tilt your face towards his so that he could brush his lips on yours. "Ready to go home, pretty girl?"