lime the mime

You’re ogling him right now. You aren’t even trying to hide it. His eyes are locked hard on his laptop, typing away while those ruby red eyes of his occasionally twitch from the glare of the sun blaring into the window of the cafe you’re working in.

“You should wear those tinted glasses more often.” You hum, sipping on your drink through a paper straw. You hollow your cheeks, imagining what it would be like to hollow them while you— ahem. Not the time, you freak.

“It’s bothersome.” He briefly gestures to the mentioned glasses sitting next to his laptop. “If my eyes start acting up I’ll put them on.”

“They’re already twitching, big brain.” You slide his glasses closer to his hands. “Put them on before you have to get some kind of laser surgery.”

Reluctantly, Sylus slips the frames onto his face. They fit him so well, accentuating the shape and sun-exposed glow of his eyes, his sharp jawline, those pink heart shaped lips, his cheekbones, that one pimple you had begged to pop just a few days ago before he threatened to bite you… so fucking handsome.

“You’re staring.” A twitch of his lips curve into a small smirk. 

Sylus may be your typical genius— and totally your type— but he is by no means an idiot. He’s always noticed your ‘stares of admiration’ as he calls it, but he avoided confronting it. Mostly because he wanted to see how far you’d go.

Too bad he’s already wrapped around your finger. He doesn’t even realise it yet! Well, he kind of does.

You’ve been working towards this for months. To be fair, you’d been friends with him for a while, supporting each other through your first two years of university for academics and then for companionship overtime. 

One thing led to another and by one thing we mean a very short and very unintentionally intentional kiss, you two are now locked in for life.

“I like your face.” You grin, ignoring the heat rushing through your cheeks. One year ago, you would have made fun of him, telling him you can see his pores. Right now, you just want to tell him how beautiful he is. Then maybe kiss him in front of all the people in the cafe like a cringey movie couple.

Instead, you say “Makes me want to lick you.”

As expected, you receive a grimace then a short chuckle. “You’re so intriguing.” His eyes momentarily return to the code running on his screen before looking back up at your unwavering gaze. “I want to show you something.”

“Another vintage weapons museum?” You sigh with a smile.

He loves his vintage stuff. Vintage buildings, vintage vehicles, vintage everything. Sometimes he buys them and keeps them as collectibles. He’s got his quirks, as concerning as they can be, but that’s what you adore about him. He’s passionate.

“Not this time,” He stores away all his belongings in a leather bag with an unusual sense of urgency. “I think you’re tired of being stopped from touching old swords.”

“Why put them on display if I can’t touch it?” You huffed, joining him in his fast strides to his motorcycle.

Yeah, he has a motorcycle. He even invites you to his place to help (more like you watching) him do some repairs. You have a feeling he’ll do a bachelor’s in engineering after his current degree at the rate he’s going.

The drive to this mystery location was peaceful. You had no idea where he was taking you and no matter how many times you asked, Sylus would either poke the hand that was wrapped around his waist or just yell “You’re being a bit too impatient, sweetie.”

It was only when the engine died down did you glance up to see a very old, gothic looking building.

“An abandoned church?”

You can tell it hasn’t been touched in a while. The stained windows near the entrance had streak marks alongside layers of dust, probably being the only areas apart from the higher parts of the church that the rain managed to reach. Cobwebs cover the hinges of the large double doors that Sylus strides right over to in those leather pants you love so much.

The doors loudly creak open, giving you double confirmation that nobody has been around the area in years. Dust practically falls on your shoulders as the two of you walk in, bringing in a sight more beautiful than what is presented from outside.

Multiple wooden pews are aligned neatly from the entrance right, each one delicately carved with designs you can consider arcane. A large window, fragmented into different unequal pieces illuminate the altar with so many colours it seems like a large kaleidoscope. The structure is severed into arcs and divine shapes, creating a garden of intricate design as it the hands that made it created it with pure reverence.

The afternoon light peers through the stained glass, staining the dust and your skin with beams in several colours. You peer up to the ceiling and softly gasp at the sight of the paintings inscribed eternally onto the plafond. They’re intricate, delicately painted as if they were crafted by the greatest of artistic hands centuries before your very existence.

“When did you find this?” You ask with your neck still craned, mesmerised by literally everything in front of you. “How did you find this?”

You hear him softly laugh as his hands gently tilt your head down to lock into his gaze. “I came here on the way home after studying late.” He flicks your head at you muttering ‘nerd’ under your breath. “I’ve seen you study till sunrise, you mega nerd.”

“Sylus, you know I don’t that anymore!”

“Let’s wait until exams come along.”

“Fuck you.” Oh, would it be great if you could.

“Can I continue?” Sylus flicks your forehead, this time more gently. “It started raining on the way back and it got really bad. Obviously, I wouldn’t want to get wet so I stopped at the closest shelter I could see. Right here.”

You watch him look around to admire the temporary shelter he had found. You can see the appeal. The stained windows, the old organ on the altar, the narrow, carving embroidered path leading what you assume are the confessionals. It’s all so beautiful, and intricate. 

You could do anything here in peace. Heh. Anything.

You also find a set of thick blankets and pillows laid near the altar, positioned specifically to be hit with the colourful light radiated from the stained windows.

“I ended up sleeping here,” He sheepishly smiles, averting his gaze briefly to your lips. “When I woke up, the rain droplets were on the large window and the way the beams of light collided only skin and in the air was just… beautiful. Almost as much as you.”

“Huh?” Your eyes widen slightly. Your cheeks burn as if the sun is right in your face. He said what?

“You’re beautiful.” Sylus says again with a small smile on his face. Not snarky. Not smug like he is with all the people that fawn over him. No, this one is serene, full of admiration and a hint of something much more. “I’ve told you this before.”

“Yeah, when I was in a literal pit and going through absolute hell.” You scoff, trying to turn your face away but his hands have been holding your cheeks the entire time. “I thought you were just saying it to make me feel better.”

“Why would I do that when you already know it’s true that you’re beautiful?” He pouts, raising a brow. “You are beautiful. And if you don’t want to hear me say that word, then you’re really pretty.”

“Sylus.”

“You’re really cool.”

“Sy.”

“You’re incredibly smart and empathetic.”

“Sylus, I get it—“

“You’re amazing, and I’ve always thought that you’re all those things. From the moment you wanted to be my friend— and it only amplified after we kissed.”

For some odd reason, your heart skips a beat hearing that slip through his lips. That kiss.

Neither of you were under the influence, under emotional turmoil, none of that messy stuff that turns something so intimate into something you’d want to hide.

Instead, it happened overlooking the view of the city. You two had gone on a joyride to take a break from studying, just to clear your heads. You were sitting close together, knees, thighs and hands touching, shoulders bumping and rubbing together under his jacket to keep you both warm.

You were talking about everything and nothing, recalling the early months of your friendships and helped each other through everything. You knew everything about each other and made sure to make it fun.

He told you he wanted to learn how to sing, even though it was really bad at that time. You told him you wanted to be more confident in your skin. You shared your vulnerabilities and soon a glimpse of your mutual desires.

One glance turned into another. A glimpse of your lips prolonged until your realised you were both leaning in with no intention to stop. And above the endless bustle of the city, you found peace in each other’s embrace.

It was soft. It was brief. It was gentle. His lips were soft, almost trembling with nerves before he moved with you even if it were for just seconds. You cradled each other’s faces with a care and level of devotion you would grant a small animal like a little crow or a kitten. 

When you eventually pulled away, the memory, the sensation, the event simmered away with small— but not awkward— laughs and a change of the subject.

The event never found its way back into conversation. Until now.

“You’ve liked me that way this entire time?” You whisper, feeling a low bubbling of both hope, excitement and rage boil within you.

You have been crushing on him for so long that you were considered adding obliviousness to his list of nerdy traits. To realise that he had the same sentiments almost ticked you off. Maybe you were so drawn to him that you didn’t notice him pining over you the entire time.

“Yeah,” Sylus grins, exposing his cute gummy smile. You remember you used to force him to smile like that by tickling him until he started to attack back. “You were so enamoured that you barely noticed. Which makes more sense now, considering you so recklessly told me about your fantasy to get fucked in a cathedral. You thought I friend zoned you, giving you leeway to tell me your dirty secrets.”

Shit. Shit.

You’ve been telling him almost everything. Like when you were complaining about how your old vibrator was dying out on you so you needed to replace it. He helped you get a better one— walked around a sex shop with you for hours— and even offered to make one himself.

You nagged him about his smooching skills— the one other time you both referenced the kiss you shared— and somehow showed him pictures of all the hickeys you have received. You even gave him a very clear and descriptive visual of a position he was confused with from a book you were reading together.

You’ve told and shown him a lot of things you probably shouldn’t have, especially considering he’s your friend. But you had long accepted the fear that he wouldn’t return your feelings and chose to continue being his friend than to break your heart in the attempt to push it further.

Now that it’s confirmed that the feeling’s very much mutual, you are so insanely fucked.

“I’m going to start drinking.” You deadpan. 

“No, you’re not.”

“I told you the freakiest things I wouldn’t even tell my best friend!”

Those pretty lips of his curve into a pout. “I thought I was your best friend.”

You paused in your panic. He is technically your best friend. “You’re my best friend in possession of a dick.”

Sylus narrows his eyes in suspicion. “I think you should admit that you’re so comfortable in our relationship that you’re open to say some of the most grotesque things around me.”

“If I admit that then you have to admit that you were planning this!” You arms flail in the air as you gesture to the church sheltering you. Again, you are very very smart, even if you don’t want to say it. You’ve been catching on to his little stunts from the start.

You invited him to study with you, knowing the weather would switch up by the time you finish your session. You wanted a cute cliche moment of sharing a jacket while running in the rain. Something to soothe and satiate your romance-hungry fantasies. Nothing too crazy.

What confused you on the joyride to this arcane infrastructure was how he knew when to start moving. He checked his laptop before he got up. He took routes that you didn’t know existed. It was almost like he was intentionally stretching the drive to get the timing right.

Also, you told him you wanted to get fucked in a cathedral. Your current location doesn’t stray far from your personal fantasy. Coincidence? You’d be foolish to assume so.

Thunder lowly rumbles from outside the church with soft patters of rainfall accompanying it. That nerd wanted you to be here exactly at this time. 

“It was going to rain today.” You start, lips thinning into an irritated line.

“I checked the weather, and so did you.” That stupidly attractive smug smirk paints his face.

“I wanted to get you to stay at the cafe just until it started raining.”

“So you could get your cliche moment.” So he knew!

“You took me here to fulfil a fantasy I used to have.”

He gives you a knowing look. “You still want it.”

To be fair, it is still an active desire you have.

You’d spent some occasional nights driving your clit to overstimulation over the imagery of the two of you having a moment (at least two nights) of passion in this kind of place— as controversial as it seems. You’d spend your nights crying out his name in desire only for you to spend your days poking and prodding him as your friend and not someone you adore.

It’s still something you want. 

“You fucking nerd.”

“You’re a greater nerd than I am.”

His hands are still cradling your face. His palms have small callouses, probably from all that boxing he does. Despite the roughness of his skin, he holds you so gently. With so much consideration and care.

“We’re both incredible.” You say, unable to pull away from his gaze. Not that you wanted to. “We’re both nerds.”

“Major nerds.” Sylus agrees. That beautiful smile hasn’t left his face. 

Droplets of rain strike the large windows, filling the silence between you. The opportunity is right in front of you. He’s clearly more than willing to do what you want to do, or he wouldn’t have brought you here.

Do you stop him? Do you indulge? Or should you sprint and scream into that little pillow fort that you’re certain smells like him? Or maybe you should stop overthinking and notice that he’s starting to notice you panicking in your mind.

Sylus is smart. He’s so dangerously talented and multi-skilled. He’s so irritatingly kind and charming that you almost feel like an idiot for catching feelings so quickly. You don’t regret it, but making the move to pursue your very desires (which he has a good knack for catching) might just make your friendship something entirely different.

Eh, fuck it. You were going to snap eventually.

Pursing your lips together, you muster as much courage as you can grab before the special moment fades into another memory. “I’d like to kiss you again, Sylus.”

That small flicker of joy flashes through his eyes just long enough for you to catch it. His face stiffens for just a moment before his smile widens, exposing more of his cute, adorable gummy smile as his eyes crinkle, showing those lines surrounding his eyes made from exhaustion and all he times he’s laughed with you. “Really?”

“Really.”

Like back then, the endless gap of air and space becomes more narrow as you lean towards each other. Magnetised, enamoured, connected. 

“I have always held my affections for you.” Sylus whispers, his coffee-touched breath tickles your skin as his thumbs ghost circles onto your cheekbones. “My heart has always beat a certain way in your presence, I have always spent my every breathing moment desiring you since we met.”

Your attempt to whisper your response ends with a soft gasp shared between you as your lips finally reunite. 

It feels just as soft as it did before. Your arms slowly creep up his back to wrap around his neck and find comfort in his soft hair. You’d always brushed and played with his hair and he would always just allow you to. To feel it like this is something entirely new.

You move together in unison, hands shifting lower and higher in intervals as you find rhythm in your embrace. Aches of desire, both familiar and slightly inappropriate for the sentimental nature of this moment, set you in flames as your tongues begin to explore. 

Breathing becomes a social construct and touch becomes your lifeline. Tasting him despite the remnants of caffeine attached to him drives you into a flustered frenzy, tugging at his locks unintentionally, relentless in your desire to feel him and hold him and adore him before it all turns into a dream.

Your lips pull apart after what feels like hours, your breathing heavy and thick with need. Sylus, eyes still partly closed, leans closer to you with the sole intention of attaching his lips to yours once more.

“Why pull away?” He rasps in that super hot husky voice that you only hear when you call him in the middle of the night.

“You should have let me talk about how much I like you.” You tease, pressing a kiss on the corner of his lips.

“It’s all in your eyes,” He smiles, cradling your skin with his calloused fingers. “You’ve always told me how you feel with them.”

If you thought you were a perv, Sylus is lucky you can’t read his mind.

And that you haven’t already noticed the raging boner poking through the fabric of his pants. The very set he knows you drool over. 

Sylus has been very deliberate with his actions for a while now. The way he dresses has been to satisfy your tastes and match your outfits, the way he styles his hair has been to catch your eye every single time. 

He made sure he walks with his back completely straightened to stand at his actual height— and not in the slouch that he has habitually claimed from curving over his laptop while typing away at the programs he makes. All for you.

He gets your favourite drink every Tuesday afternoon between lectures, he drives you to your apartment and has sleepovers with you whenever you don’t want him to leave (and neither does he).

All those intricate details and deliberate moves to subtly charm you were for this very moment, all those days of impressing you in his charm and all those nights of spilling hot strings of cum onto his sheets whilst moaning your name into the air— he’s a shameless guy, you see— were all worth it for this.

He might just cum in his pants right here and now.

Sylus wastes no time to kiss you again, this time with more hunger and need than before. He waits for your hands to wander, ghosting over the skin of his nape until you grip hard on his soft locks hard. 

He groans into your mouth, giving you the opportunity to slip your tongue in, tasting him and feeling as much as you can before you lose your breath. It turns into a lustful dance, intertwining tongues, tastes mixing, desire building and burning to the point where kissing alone won’t just do it anymore.

Just as you pull away, his lips find new attachment on your neck to suck and lick away at your skin. You’re warm to the touch, if it’s not due to his mind being half gone already. What can he say? You’ve got him wrapped tight around your finger.

“Tell me what you want us to do.” Sylus murmurs into your neck, mouthing wet kisses into your flesh.

“Hm?” You’re too deep in your daze to think about what he said. It must be a dream come true. Sylus, your best friend Sylus, is kissing your neck. You can feel his hard on literally throbbing against you, hot and rock fucking hard. 

You’ve seen him in less clothing than what friends should normally see, so you’ve always been aware of his huge bulge— which is something you always think about whenever you get horny— but now that you can feel it, it’s larger than you’d thought.

And now you get to have him all to yourself?! All that prep you did with your trusty dildo is finally coming to use! You could go into detail about how you’ve tortured your cunt to the thought of him but you’d rather pay attention to the nerd that’s busy sucking very dark, very visible hickeys onto your neck.

“Don’t haze out on me.” Sylus rasps. That just shoots shocks of pleasure down your spine. “What do you want us to do while we’re here?”

Oh, you have a lot of ideas in mind. Riding him on one of the pews while the storm rages outside as if you’re in some scandalous scene in a telenovela, having him eat you out in the confession booth until his face is covered nose to chin in your slick and cum, being entangled within those blankets near the altar— 

It’s a very long, near endless list of ways you can take advantage of the opportunity you have in your hands.

“You’ll freak out if I say it.” You say instead, feeling heat warm up your ears. You’re not embarrassed, you just… feel a little nervous to talk about your fantasies now that you two are more than friends now.

“Perhaps I should guess then.” His hands wander to the hem of your top, gently raising it higher and higher until he feels your bra. “Maybe you want to start on the pews, riding me perhaps? Or maybe you want to warm up first in the confessionals, with me on my knees eating you out until you tell me to stop.”

Oh, that mouth of his is exquisitely filthy.

“Or perhaps you want me take you to every single corner I found here and paint each wall in our cum, and compose a symphony of our own noises of pleasure right on top of the organ.” His large hands cup your mounds, gently squeezing them like a horny teenager.

“Or maybe we should screw the logistics and fuck in every part of this place we can reach until we can’t think straight.”

Holy fuck, he’s profane. Your jaw drops as your brows deeply furrow in shock. You know he has a bit of a not-so-innocent innuendo to him, but this? How pussy throbbing.

“Surprised?” His lips curve into a sly smirk. He can tell that he’s riled you up.

“Just a little bit.” You tug at his white locks, relishing in the hushed moan that slips out of his lips. Your other hand explores his chest, ghosting your fingers over his pecs. “I like it. Didn’t expect you to be so… lewd.”

Sylus doesn’t respond. Instead he steps closer to you, closer and closer until he’s moving you as he walks towards the pews. His hands slither down to your waist, wrapping tight around you so that he can pick you up and gently straddle you on his lap.

The dimmed lighting creates a soft sparkle in those ruby eyes of his, completely amplified by the glasses loosely hanging on his nose. There’s just something about the way that he looks at you with a sliver of admiration… it makes your heart warm.

“We can stop whenever you want us to.” He says in a hushed tone, the warmth of his breath fans your lips with the afterscent of caffeine. “I’d never want you to feel like you must do something you aren’t fully up to.”

You shake your head, tapping his lower lip with your finger. It’s so soft and plush, you could fangirl about it for hours. “I want this. I want you.”

The kiss he engulfs you in is borderline orgasmic. He must be fucking starving from how quick his tongue slips through your lips. Your bodies move as if they’re in sync, hands wandering from hair to skin, from your necks to your chests until you reach the hems of your clothing. 

You pull your clothes off as if it burns you until you’re both in nothing but your underwear, breathless from the rush of feeling each other skin to skin.

“Confessional,” You sigh into his lips. “Start there.”

To this day, you marvel at his strength— it’s almost inhumane. Sylus carries you in his arms effortlessly, his lips never leaving yours as he makes his way to the confessional standing parallel to the altar. It’s like he memorised every part of this place.

He gently sits you down all while dropping to his knees from how compact and tight the space is. There’s something that is just so appealing when it comes to Sylus being on his knees. You have a hunch that it’s the fact that he enjoys it.

“Got any confessions to make, Sy?” The way he looks up to you almost makes you cream on the spot.

His eyes are completely glazed over with lust and desire, irises shaking as if the light shining above you makes you look like an angel about the cleanse— preferably ruin— him. Your grip on his hair brings his gaze to roll slowly to the wooden ceiling of the confessional before your grip forces his attention back to you.

“What confession?” He husks, with a saccharine smile. He must be in heaven. 

“Look how hard you are.” You tut, rubbing your foot between his legs, deliberately teasing his shaft. “Are you always like this when you think of me?”

The contact alone makes his cock twitch, pumping blood right down there. He’s practically soaking himself in precum from all that excitement, length swelling with insatiable need.

“Yeah,” He confesses, flushing bright pink all around his face. “Almost every night.”

“The only fair thing to do is repent, don’t you think?” You tease, subtly hinting your innuendo by shifting your hips lower to bring your soaked pussy clothed in lace (conveniently) to him.

“Mhm,” Sylus can feel himself salivating at the sight of you being utterly soaked. Just for him. The way the fabric of your panties were beyond saving, so much so that your essence dripped down to the seat you comfortably treated as your throne, it’s riveting.

More than enough for him to worship you for hours. Hell, if he told himself the day before that he’d be doing this, the past version would have scoffed. Look at him now. Lady Luck has most definitely granted him good fortune today.

“Should totally repent.” He affirms, eyes darting between your soaking pussy, his hands wrapped around your thighs, and that beautiful face of yours. This little play of words and desire is entertaining. “That’ll make you forgive my transgressions, yes?”

He could look at you for hours without losing his concentration. He would design code that would create all the weirdest hacks that would impress you. He would write love letters that would make Shakespeare spin in his grave just from how romantic and devoted they are. He would cook for you every day, but make sure you know that you’re the best meal he’ll ever have.

“Definitely.” You breathlessly nod, moving your hand from his soft white hair to caress his cheek. Your press down harder on his length, drawing out a pleasured hiss from him. “Best you get started before I get impatient.”

Without another word, Sylus sinks his head snug between your legs. His tongue darts out straight into you despite the barrier of your panties, tasting your warm slick like its holy water. 

His eyes roll back into his skull, his tastebuds tingling in tandem with the throbs of his cock like you’re the first meal he’s had in months. Hearing your short yet audible moan only makes the feeling so much more divine. 

His eyes flutter shut as he draws himself to lock in on the mission at hand: pleasing his goddess, you.

It’s really hard to keep your mind in one piece when all you can see and think of is the sight of your best friend on his knees, between your legs, sucking the juices out of your soaked underwear before he feasts on you properly.

Your hand twitches back to his locks, tightening in grip as out grow antsy for more. Droplets of your own slick spread up to his cheekbones from all that lapping, nodding and nuzzling, making it so much worse.

“Sy,” You whine, slithering his name in a lengthy moan. It barely registers to him that you’re trying to get to him. He’s already gone, already in deep.

His lips curl around your clothed clit and suck hard. His brows furrow in deep attentiveness as he sucks on your clit, drawing small circles with his tongue as roughly as he can to penetrate his ministrations through the barrier of lace between you. 

Something about that friction just works so well that your toes curl. “Sylus— fuck— take it off.”

Between his muffled groans, Sylus presses a hot kiss on your clit before pulling away. “You’re disturbing my repentance, sweetie.” 

Oh fuck.

You gulf as he rises to his feet in the too-small booth until he hunches over you. Firstly, you want to hear him calling you that more often. Secondly, the very first thing you see in front of you is his cock straining against its confines, thick, huge, and leaking. 

You must be drooling from how long your jaw dropped. You had a feeling that he would be big from all the times you’d seen him in sweatpants, but damn. You’re kind of glad you invested in a dildo.

It takes so much willpower to look away from that Herculean girth in front of you and when you do, you meet his hazed gaze that teases you with a knowing look accompanied with his signature smile.

“Don’t start.’’

“You like it?” You both speak in chaotic unison, only to magnify the irritation painted in your expression and the smug flattery in his.

“I think you like it.” Sylus hums, gently gripping your hips to help raise them. With your hands gripping on the seat beneath you to secure your position, Sylus hooks his fingers around your lacy garments and pulls them down with a swift tug.

The cold air hits your open cunt like a gust of wind, making your legs shiver. The sound of a gentle patter on the floor catches your ears, bringing you to see his underwear on the floor with yours.

“It’s only fair that I do it too.” Sylus answers before you even start. You know each other that well, answering each others’ questions before you even think of it.

“Is there anything else I should do?” He asks as he returns to his knees, this tie hooking your knees over his broad shoulders. Your lips part to say something, anything, with a bite but you’re rendered speechless. “No? Alright.”

Sylus plants his head between your legs once more, licking a long stripe down your thigh just before he touches your folds. Hot, wet kisses travel around your pussy, all the way to your clit without truly giving you what you want.

Such a tease.

“Did you know there’s thousands of nerve endings here?” He muses, darting his tongue around your clit so lightly that you can only feel the burning tease of his touch. “Of course you do, you abuse this poor thing with your vibrator.”

Soft whines slip out of you lips before you can stop them. You can barely do much other than squeeze his head with your thighs, but it’s looking like that only riles him up more.

“Since my hands are out of commission at the moment,” Sylus says, patting your thighs gently. “How many times do you think I can make you cum with my tongue?”

“No more than twice.” You try to scoff, but it comes out more like a whine you tried to swallow. 

“Is that a challenge?” He grins, nuzzling his head into your thigh all while keeping his crimson gaze on yours. You can tell he’s slipping despite his confidence, if not that then his reddened cock bobbing between his legs is a dead giveaway.

“I’ll aim for three.” His tongue travels back down slowly to your pussy, lapping up your dripping essence. “Just to be spiteful.”

All that teasing from earlier goes right out the window when he dips his tongue right inside you, enveloping his tastebuds in nothing but your taste. A melody of your moans bounce off the walls of the confessional from the mutual pleasure.

His tongue goes as far as it can, caressing and pressing hard against your walls, moving back and forth and curling like he’s looking for something within you. His brows are knotted, eyes blissfully closed as he worships your fluttering cunt.

The noise is so obnoxiously loud and wet that it almost outdoes your own. Your nails dig into his scalp as his tongue finally curves just right, getting as close to your most sweetest spot as his tongue can reach.

“Sylus!” Your back arches into him, receiving a muffled grunt in return. His tongue circles around your entrance, lapping up all the slick that attempts to drip down away from his reach. 

He has no intention of wasting what you give him. Each slurp and lick comes with a kiss to your folds until he’s practically making out with your pussy, tasting, teasing, and pleasing you all at once. It all burns so good that you can already feel that familiar, back-arching tingle subtly creep in.

“I could stay here forever, making you feel so good.” His rambles, sounding slightly incoherent from all his ministrations. His grip on your thighs tighten as he glances down to his aching cock. Watching it twitch and drip all that precum in desperation just reflects his own need for you. 

“You taste so damn good.” He licks a long stripe from your cunt to your clit, circling around your bud with the tip of his tongue. “You sound like heaven.” It’s almost too much to not to do anything, so much so that his hips start to grind his cock against the surface you sit so beautifully on for some satiation to his arousal. “Wanna drown in you, sweetie. Won’t you let me?”

Just as you’re about to respond, Sylus suckles hard on your clit in pulsating intervals so erotically well that it brings you to your first climax. Your toes curl, your thighs tighten around his head without restraint, and your eyes roll back until your vision is spotted with sprinkles of light between the darkness of your skull.

A sharp, lewd cry of his name flows right into his ears from your kiss-swollen lips as hot waves of pleasure hit you with each harsh suck that he gives your clit. He’s just so close and attached to your clit, both through his own strength and you literally holding him there mid-orgasm, that he’s more than ready to happily stop breathing between your legs.

There can’t be any joy better than this.

Other than the painfully slow grinds he teases his cock just enough to keep himself at bay. One glance down and he’d see his cock almost completely soaked from all that leaking. He can feel his pulse thump and throb right there as he twitches violently from the lack of contact.

Just a bit longer. You come first.

Which you already did. But he still needs two more before he can even think of his own needs.

You’re whining his name like you’re about to cum again, clawing your nails down his nape and tugging at his hair, confused between whether you should push him away or pull him closer.

“Sylus, wait— Sylus!” You can barely think of what you’re supposed to tell him from that overwhelming pleasure. You can just feel the second one creeping in fast like a storm and it’s clear that Sylus won’t stop until he achieves it.

His tongue flicks back and forth over your sensitive bud, carelessly rutting his cock up and down to capture new flickers of your carnal responses. The way you’re tugging his hair makes him whimper. The way you whine his name burns a sense of pride in him. The way you pull his hair to you fucking yourself on his face, he relishes in it all.

The second orgasm comes in stronger than the first. Your thighs are trembling in his grip as your cries hit a higher pitch. Your eyes, too far gone up your skull, might just reach crossing territory at this rate. If you grab his hair any tighter, you might end up ripping it off. And still, he just doesn’t stop.

“Sy,” You pant, trying to writhe away from the overstimulation he’s driving into you. “That’s two, you can—“

“I said three.”

“C-Come on, Sy!” You gasp, feeling your breath catch in your throat from his titillating gaze. 

Half of his face is completely drenched in your slick with some dripping down his chin. Your legs move up and down with his body from all that grinding to soothe his aching cock. He just can’t stop, can he?

“Three.” He presses a hot kiss on your pussy, nuzzling your clit with his nose despite how violently your thighs tremble around him.

“Too much!”

“Three.” His tongue swirls around you, slurping up everything you generously give him while his moans get louder with yours. It looks like he’s about to cum too.

“Sylus— f-fuck— please.” You whine as your fingers curl around his soft locks like second nature. The aftershocks from your previous orgasm are still pulsing through your body, adding onto the endless pleasure burning through your veins and flesh.

“You can do it, sweetie.” Sylus hums into your heat, softly whining from your scent. “Just one more.”

Just one more.

It all blends together until you can barely tell where pleasure begins or ends. Your head leans against the wooden wall, seeking cool air as a relief of all the pleasure-driven heat burning you up. It’s still too hot. Too full of your moans and cries, his groans and whimpers, and the tasteful stickiness in the air from your joint arousal.

You can barely muster a single word when the third finally hits you like the skies falling upon the earth. Your back sharply arches as your eyes cross over completely, ripping out a blissful moan from your lips. Your legs straighten as your body tenses, unable to comprehend anything other than the pleasure and relief his tongue gives you.

Finally satisfied with his work, Sylus grants his cock the attention it needs, grinding faster and harder as his tongue helps you ride out your orgasm. But he doesn’t allow himself the pleasure of cumming— not yet.

By the time you’ve calmed down enough to have some level of comprehensive thought— and finally released your death grip on the poor man— the first thing you see is a goofy smile plastered on his face.

“See?” His smile widens, glistening with your slick and cum. “You can handle it.”

You’re far too exhausted to give a snarky response, or any at all. He definitely takes note of it.

“We can stop here—” Sylus begins, readying himself to carry you out of the stuffy box of a confessional, but you smack your palm on his forehead.

“Who said I wanted to stop?” 

He looks dizzy with excitement just from hearing that and picks you up in his arms as if he wasn’t on his knees for so long. Just how much stamina does he have?

The walk, more like pace, to the makeshift bed is quick. So quick that you barely realise he’s gently set you down like he’s about to tuck you in. Reaching behind you, he pulls out a large box of condoms and swiftly takes one out, shining bright in its packaging.

“Sy, you do know I’m on the pill, right?” You ask, watching him set the foil between his teeth.

“Of course I do.” He hums as he rips it open, letting the condom fall into his palm. “But you did mention in your very detailed fantasy that you wanted to end the night with multiple used condoms all over the floor.”

There is no way he remembered all those details.

“It’s only fair that we fulfil each and every portion of what you want, right?” He slowly pumps his cock to get it harder, as if it isn’t already in that state, and slips the sheath down his shaft.

“You’re terrible.” You groan, covering your face. Maybe that will save you from embarrassment.

His hands caress yours with tender affection. “Do you want us to continue, sweetie?” He asks as he brings your palm to his lips for a gentle peck. “We don’t have to if you’re not ready.”

He’s too sweet. So gentlemanly that you can’t stop the smile spreading from ear to ear on your face. “I’m more than ready.”

No other words need to be shared for Sylus to align his cock with your pussy. He taps the tip on your entrance, once then twice to tease, before gently pushing in.

Since you’re already soaked (times three), he practically slips in like a hand into a perfectly fitting glove. His girth and pressure of something so beautifully warm and big being inside just brings that delicious burn that makes you both hold your breaths.

Your hands lace together as he sinks in deeper and deeper until he’s fully bottomed out, hip to hip and skin to skin. You both deeply exhale, keeping your gaze on each other to make sure you’re okay. 

Just the slightest twitch shoots jolts of pleasure up your spine just from how good he feels inside you. Nothing could beat this feeling. Nothing could ever defeat being like this with him. Goodness, it’s all just too good.

And then he moves.

He pulls back nice and slow until his tip is all that’s inside you, then thrusts right into you with little patience to spare.

Your eyes flutter shut from being filled with him once more, then again and again in a rapidly moving pace until your hand reaches for his back to paint with scratches while the other claws at his hair. Anything to keep you grounded while he presses you into the makeshift bed.

“You like how this feels?” Sylus grins his famous smug grin, sliding his hand to your breasts to fondle and tease. With a quick peck on your permanently parted lips, he lowers his head to trap your hardened nipple between his teeth.

“F-Fuck,” You half-sigh, half-moan into the cold air. His tongue circles around the bud, teasing and suckling you all while his gaze is locked on your beautiful face.

Each whine, each gasp, and each loud and lust-soaked moan that leaves your mouth is committed to memory just so he knows exactly how to please you. His cock is practically begging for release from how hard it throbs as he pounds his hips into yours, but he doesn’t want to yet.

He wants to feel you suffocate his cock from how good you feel around him. Between his relentless torture on your tits and romantically filthy pumps of his cock into your cunt, he can’t tell which is more blissful to do. Maybe both.

That’s definitely the case for you. 

All that overstimulation from his tongue torturing your clit has left you weak and overly sensitive in all the good ways. Your walls flutter with every single time your bodies collide, smacking loudly from your slick spreading all over you and mixing with the layer of sweat coating your skin.

The otherwise silent infrastructure sings the echoes of your lovemaking both shameless and divine, almost overpowering the rumbles of thunder striking the skies beyond the shelter of your sanctuary. Sylus groans loudly, licking his way up your chest, between your collarbones until he reaches the corner of your lips.

“I won’t last long, sweetie,” He grits in the midst of a rougher thrust into your squelching pussy. It almost aches him to hold himself from moving faster and harder despite you sucking him in every time he moves back. 

His face is completely flushed red, crimson eyes glazed over with bliss solely from watching your face contort in the pleasure he gives you. The tight squeeze of your walls almost suffocating his length is riveting, maddening.

“Good,” You huff into his neck, mouthing hot, wet kisses onto his cheek and nipping him with your teeth. “‘M close too.”

All that overstimulation from him eating you out is more than enough to tap out, really. But something about the way Sylus stares at you… as if he knows what you truly desire and is more than happy to give it to you. How can you possibly deny yourself such pleasure?

The squelches of his cock and claps of wet skin fill your senses, blocking out everything until there is only you and him, you and him, and the insatiable burn that consumes you both into oblivion.

You’re almost certain his back is completely red and tainted with lines from your scratching. Your throat grows hoarse with every moan, whimper, and cry that you two share, each being louder than the last.

It’s so lewd, so risqué, and yet it makes you writhe and arch in ecstasy. 

“Sylus,” It’s almost second nature to whisper his name into his skin as if you’re casting a spell on him. 

“I’m here, sweetie,” Sylus croons before he captures you in a lascivious kiss, slipping his hand down between your colliding hips to torture your long neglected clit.

The contact immediately maximises the tension building deep within your core, crashing over like waves hitting the shore.

Your vision goes completely white as a hot stream rushes up your spine. Pleasure becomes tangibly infinite, forcing all your senses to kneel and submit to the orgasmic waves pulsing through you. You can’t tell if you’re even making a noise at this rate even though your throat burns.

Your walls clench so hard on his cock that Sylus’ climax hits him like a train, bursting ribbons of thick cum into the condom over and over again until all he can feel is his own hot seed against the barrier of your warmth.

Your bodies move in a carnal dance as you ride out the pulses of your senses going on overdrive. It feels like hours before you can think of anything other than Sylus. Anything other than how he feels, how he sounds, and how he just gave you one of the best orgasms you’ve had in months.

“You okay?” You croak, patting his sweat-dampened hair. He merely nods— or rather nuzzles, since he’s barely moving— with his forehead stuck on yours. The only noise he can muster is an adorable mixture of a whimper and a groan.

The soft grunt he makes sounds like a mirrored question. Are you okay?

Especially after getting your shit rocked by your best friend, who admitted he really likes you and knows you like him. Especially after having one of your most prominent fantasies fulfilled by the very person you wanted to do it with.

Are you okay?

“Yeah,” You close your eyes in bliss and nuzzle him back with as much strength as your body can give. “I feel great.”

You barely give yourselves time to rest, not even for a moment. Freaks. “Again.”

That must have been a buzzword because his cock immediately hardens in an instant. Sylus shoots up to sit on his knees and slowly pulls out to see the condom full, full, of cum.

“You don’t have to tell me twice, sweetie.” He’s quick to tie it into a knot and throws it away to grab the one of the many that you will be using up.

Watching him reach for the condoms beside the bedding, you weakly lift yourself to rest on your forearms. The sight of the setting sun shining specks of colour onto his glistening form is so ethereal that you’d assume he’s an angel. He must be if he gave you all those orgasms.

“Remember when you told me about that other fantasy you have?” He asks, sliding the sheath down his cum-slick cock. His grip is tight on the base to keep it from jumping but its violent twitches are a dead giveaway of his insatiable arousal.

“Which one?” 

“The more exhibitionist one,” Sylus prowls over you once more, raising your legs to his shoulders to peck and caress. “Where did you want it to be? Ah, yes. A party."

You seriously need to stop telling him these things.

“Don’t remind me, Sy.” Your groans of embarrassment are greeted with more affectionate kisses and love bites all over your skin. 

“A house party, right?” He slowly pushes your legs down until they connect with your chest, folding you over into a gentle yet strong mating press. You can just feel the heat of his cockhead slipping in and out of your cunt.

Too aroused to even speak, you nod with a mischievous grin painting your face.

“Good.” Gentle yet fast is how he slides back in like he never left, making sure you feel every aching part of his cock reuniting with your pussy. “A friend of mine is hosting one next week. Let’s make that desire of yours come true once we’ve ruined this place.”

Yeah. You love nerds.