❤︎ Vincent Whittman Simp ❤︎

You wake up to Vincent's arms wrapped around you. "Today's the day, doll! We'll be picking up Alastor from the airport this afternoon. I insisted that I would be there to personally welcome him," he announced with pride in his voice. "His room at the hotel won't be ready until this evening, but I figured he could use our guest room for the day!"

You turned over to face your husband. "Vinny, you're letting a stranger stay in our guest room?"

He scoffed at your hesitation. "Don't be like that, doll. It's just a few hours! Besides, everyone's a stranger until you meet them. It'll be fine, trust me. I'll be here the whole time. What could possibly go wrong?"

•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

"Alastor! Alastor! Over here! Alastor!" Vincent called out as the two of you watched the passengers make their way towards the gate. Your husband could hardly keep still, he was practically bouncing in excitement. Soon, a slender man with dark caramel curls made his way over.

"Ah, you must be Vincent," Alastor said as he approached. "And you must be Mrs. Whittman." He smiled at you and reached for your hand. "Truly a pleasure to meet you, my dear."

"Nice to meet you, Alastor," you smiled back at him as you gave him your hand. "Vinny here has been talking about you non-stop for over a month."

Still holding your hand, Alastor turned his attention to Vincent. "Oh, don't tell me you've bored this lovely woman with incessant yapping about me, Vincent."

"Well, I wouldn't say I 'bored' her. She did agree to come along with me to pick you up. Oh, and I made dinner reservations for the three of us!" Vincent announced with excitement. "Come on, let's get outta here and head back to my place. Don't want to keep the driver waiting!"

•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

On the ride home, Vincent took it upon himself to be Alastor's personal tour guide. You were sat between the two men. Your gaze shifted between them as you watched the impromptu tour happen. Every now and then, your eyes would meet Alastor's, whose gaze always lingered on you just a second longer than it should have.

When the driver approached your subdivision, Vincent was quick to brag about the neighborhood the two of you live in. "They're building a playground over there for the families with children," he nudges your arm and winks at you. "It's the perfect area to raise a family. As a matter of fact, one of our neighbors will be welcoming the firstborn in just a few months!" His eyes subconsciously find your midsection.

"Crime is basically nonexistent here. I always know my doll is safe when I'm away.

Isn't it great, Al?" He turned to Alastor for approval.

"Yes, this place is rather lovely and pleasing to the eye," Alastor admits. He glances at you, "The sights here sure are something to behold."

•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

Vincent shows Alastor to the guest room before making his way to your shared bedroom. Leaning against the door, he begins unbuttoning his shirt as he watches you get ready for the dinner reservations.

He discards his shirt on top of the dresser as he makes his way towards you, his hands finding your hips and pulling you in. Your bare breasts meet his bare chest as you look up into his eyes. He looks down at you and kisses the top of your forehead. "You know, I think there's enough time for the two of us to have some fun before dinner. Whaddaya say, doll?"

"Vincent! We have a guest in the house!" You pushed away from his chest.

"Aw, come on! It'll be quick!" He pleaded.

"He'll still hear everything! This isn't how we behave in front of guests!" You continued getting dressed for dinner, your bra not doing much to shield your breasts from Vincent's prying eyes.

"Ugh, fine. How about just a blowjob?" He tried to compromise with you. "I'll be quiet."

"Absolutely not!" You shot back. "I won't have time to fix my hair if you make a mess in it again!"

He facepalms. "Babe, that was one time!"

You turn to grab the blouse you had laid out, but Vincent snatched it away and held it above his head.

"Vincent! Give that back!" You reach up to take your blouse back, but it's just out of reach.

"No can do, doll. Unless," he smiled down deviously at you. Gripping your waist with your other hand, he sits on the edge of the bed.

"Vinny, stop this nonsense," you insist. In an attempt to reach your blouse, you straddle Vincent's lap and reach up. The hem of your skirt gently brushing over his clothed member. "Give me back my blouse, Vinny!"

"Not just yet, doll," he cooed. His hand at your waist released its grip. Sliding up your skirt and down your panties, his fingers slipped between your folds and began teasing your bundle of nerves.

"Mmph!" The sudden sensation causes you to fall on to Vincent's chest. You allowed yourself to rest there for a moment before you heard a sound coming from the hallway.

"Ahem," Alastor made a show of clearing his throat. "I couldn't help but overhear of your predicament, my dear. If I may, I have a spare shirt that I can offer you. I think it would look great on your figure." Alastor stretched his arm out, offering you his button-down top, while turning his head away as to not gaze upon your immodest form.

"Oh, thank you, Alastor!" You hopped off of Vincent and made your way to Alastor. You took his shirt and began to button it up, leaving the top buttons open to allow room for your feminine features. "It fits perfectly!"

Alastor wrapped his arm around you, resting his hand on the curve of your waist. "Come, mon cher, we mustn't be late for our reservations." He guides you out of the bedroom.

"Now what am I supposed to do with this?" Vincent called after the two of you.

Alastor, knowing that Vincent was referring to the tent in his trousers, decided to play dumb. "Hm? Your wife's blouse? Oh Vincent, we all know you wouldn't be able to pull that off. Just wear what you already had in mind," Alastor responds without turning back to Vincent.

In the other room, you grab your shoes from the closet. A loose nail in the door trim catches the bottom of your skirt, tearing a small hole. You curse under your breath. "I've already told him at least three times to fix this! Now where's my sewing kit?" You fetch your sewing kit and sit down in the nearest chair, hiking up your skirt to repair the tear.

Alastor brings your shoes to you and sits at your feet. "Allow me to save you some time. Vincent has slowed you down enough for one night."

You lift your foot and allow Alastor to slide your shoe on you. "You're too kind, Alastor. Thank you."

Alastor smiles up at you. "The pleasure is mine, my dear." He slides on your other shoe before rising to his knees to admire your handiwork. "That's a nifty little kit," he remarks. "If I hadn't witnessed the occurrence, I wouldn't be able to tell that there was once a tear in your skirt." He glides his fingertips over the fabric of your skirt.

Vincent, finally dressed and ready to go, enters the room. "Ready to go, doll? I think we can still make it in time if we–" He's stopped in his tracks at the scene before him: his wife sitting down with her skirt hiked up and exposing her lower half, and the radio host he's been infatuated with kneeling between his wife's legs. "What's going on?"

"Really, Vincent, what's the point of owning a house if you're not going to keep up with it?" Alastor jabs.

"Wh-what?" Vincent stammers.

"How many times does your wife have to ask you to fix something around here? If you would have fixed the loose nail by the shoe closet, she wouldn't have torn her skirt. You're just lucky she's skilled to repair her skirt so well that the untrained eye wouldn't notice." Alastor brushes his hand over the fabric again, making eye contact with Vincent the whole time.

Vincent pinches the bridge of his nose. "I'm a busy man, Alastor. I told her I'll fix it and I will. You don't have to remind me. And of course she can fix her skirt, she's my wife after all. Now let's go before we're late."

Vincent offers his hand to you. You flash an apologetic smile to Alastor and he stands up, moving out of your way. You take your husband's hand, his other hand possessively finding your waist as he leads you out of the room.

•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

Vox sat in the chair backstage, cuddling you on his lap. "There's still some time before I need to go out there," he whispered in your ear. "I think there's just enough time for a little morale boost, if you know what I mean. Whaddya say, doll?"

"Vox, there's millions of sinners around!" You started to protest. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Sure, there's millions of sinners out there, but it's just the two of us in here," he coaxed. "Everyone back here is getting ready for when I go on stage. They won't have time to bother us." Vox ran his hand along your inner thigh. "Besides, I need to make sure I'm ready to go out there. If I'm going to introduce myself as everyone's new god, I need to feel like a god."

"And what better way to feel like a god than to be worshiped?" You reply sarcastically.

"Yes! Exactly!" The sarcasm flew over Vox's head. "And what better place than in my throne?"

You roll your eyes.

"Wait, are you not going to do it? But you're so wet for me, doll!" He raises his hand up to show you your slick on his claws.

"I don't think now is a good time," you settle into his chest, planting a kiss on his suit lapel.

"Uh, no!" He scoffs. "Now is the BEST time! Come on, you know you want to." He rubs your mound through your soaked panties.

You sigh. "Do you really need it right now?" You ask, despite being able to feel his erection poking at you for the past 15 minutes.

"Please, at least a quick blowjob?" Vox bargains.

"Well, I can't let you go out in front of everyone with a tent in your trousers." You slowly pull yourself off of his lap.

"Yes!! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He blurts out before attempting to collect himself. "I mean," he clears this throat. "Your god appreciates your offering, doll."

You remove your wet panties before kneeling down in front of Vox. You undo his trousers and ease his member out of its confinement. You wrap your panties around his base, in hopes of keeping his trousers clean.

"Thoughtful," he smiles down at you. "So prepared to worship your god."

You rub your thumb along his tip, gathering his pre before working it down his length. He groans as your soft lips kiss his velvety head. Hollowing your cheeks, you descend upon his length. You slide your hand between your legs, making your way to your bundle of nerves.

"Nuh-uh, doll." Vox's cables shoot out and tie your wrists behind your back. "You're worshiping me, remember? Maybe next time you'll agree to sex, not just a blowjob."

Trying to hide your irritation, you can't help but roll your eyes at Vox's behavior. You'll find a way for him to make it up to you later, but for now, you'll find a way to make do. You position yourself so that Vox's shoe is between your knees. Slowly, you sit down and begin to rub against it.

"Using my shoe to chase your own relief? Oh doll, I can think of a better way to satisfy you." A thick, girthy cable flies down to you and stuffs your needy hole. Your slick making it oh so easy for the large cable to slide inside. Your inner walls squeeze around the length of the cable. It begins thrusting in and out of you, rubbing against your sensitive bundle of nerves as it thrusts. The sensation causes you to moan around Vox's member.

"Aren't I a generous god?" Vox moans at the sight of your pleasure mixed with the feeling of your mouth around him. "Look at you, down on your knees, worshiping me at my feet. Tell me doll, do you like to worship your god? Does it bring you pleasure?"

You eagerly nod along his length, choking out a muffled "mhmm!" You start gagging on his length, causing your throat to close around him.

Vox runs his claws through your hair and squeezes his eyes shut as he lets out a guttural moan. Red pixels coming down the corner of his screen. "You know exactly how to please your god, don't you, doll? Squeezing me with your pretty little throat. What do you think will happen if you do it AGAIN." Vox pushes your head down, forcing you to choke on him. Your throat squeezes around him as you struggle to breathe. Hot ropes spill down your throat as tears form in your eyes. Your vision blurs. You close your eyes and can only focus on the sound of Vox's groans. He twitches in your throat. "Such a good girl for me," he praises as he strokes the back of your head, your mouth still around him. "And good girls get rewarded. Tell me doll, do you want your god to reward you?" He pulls your head back, allowing you to look him in the eyes.

"Yes, my god." You look up at Vox with teary eyes. "Please reward me." His seed drips down your chin.

Vox wipes away your tears. "Such a gorgeous sight, how could I say no?"

You whimper as the cable inside of you retreats. More cables extend to hoist you in the air, spreading your legs in front of Vox's face. The cables around your wrists release their grasp of you. Your hands quickly grip onto the back of the chair.

His tongue swipes down, parting your glistening folds. The tip of his tongue curls around your bundle of nerves. Your grip on the chair falters as you squirm from his touch. The cables tighten around you to keep you propped up.

Vox's tongue travels downward, licking at your entrance. "Tell me," he says between licks. "How does a sinner like you taste so divine? This sweet ambrosia," he dipped his tongue in your entrance for a taste. "Doll, it's like your body knew your god would be tasting it."

Praises spill from your lips as Vox's tongue explores you. His thumb moving to rub your swollen bud. You felt a familiar pressure building up inside of you. He arched his tongue inside of you and your body shook as waves of pleasure crashed around you. The praises on your lips turning into nothing but moans as you lose the ability to form sentences.

"That's it, doll! Sing for your god!" Vox commanded. His movements slowed as you came down from your climax. His cables gently lowering you onto his lap and relinquishing their hold on your body. Vox pulled you into a hug as you softly moan into his chest. "I'm ready, doll! I'm ready to show all of hell their new god! We'll take over heaven in no time!" He kisses the top of your head and absentmindedly rubs circles into your back.

Ethan comes around the corner, covering his face with his clipboard. "Uh, sir? You're scheduled to be on stage in five minutes."

☾︎ You sat on a bench in a secluded section of the park's walking trail. It was nearly dusk, but you knew the silhouette in the distance belonged to none other than TV star Vincent Whittman. Arousal built up in you as the trail lead him closer and closer to you. Thoughts raced through your mind of how easily you could pleasure yourself once his back was towards you, safely out of his view. The anticipation had you aching. You try not to stare as he walks by you, but you can't help yourself. His eyes meet yours, he winks as he passes your bench.

☾︎ After he passes your spot, you quickly look around. No one else was there, you wouldn't be caught pleasuring yourself here. You bit your lip as you let your hand reach down, touching yourself through the fabric. Leaning back into the bench, you make yourself comfortable as you admire the view of Vincent walking away. The thrill is almost too much for you, and your other hand shoots up to your mouth in a futile attempt to stifle a moan. In the quiet of the evening, the sound of your moan reached Vincent's ears.

☾︎ He paused before turning and making his way towards you. You had already begun to fein innocence by sitting up straight and moving your hands to your knees. However, your flushed face and quickened breathing confirmed his suspicions.

☾︎ "Allow me, doll," he insists, kneeling between your legs. You gasp, but you don't resist as Vincent begins to go down on you. He looks up at you with his mismatched eyes. The difference in color was still noticeable as dusk approached.

☾︎ Vincent's hand reached up and pulled your hand away from your mouth. No longer able to muffle your moans, your sounds freely filled the air as his mouth explored your sensitive zone. Vincent's eyes were rolling back as he listens to you approach your peak.

☾︎ After helping you find your release, he stands up and brushes off his trousers. He wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand. Seemingly ignoring the tent in his trousers, he began to continue his evening walk.

☾︎ "Th-thank you, Mr. Whittman!" You call out after him.

⁑ You slip your panties off before propping your feet up on the vanity, being careful to not scratch the surface with your shoes. You're able to watch yourself in the mirror of the vanity as you pull up the bottom of your dress. Slowly, you start to rub circles over your bundle of nerves. With your other hand, you bring the trophy to your opening and rub it in your slick, coating it before sliding it inside if you.

⁑ A gasp escapes your lips as you watch yourself in the mirror, most of the trophy disappearing into you. You continue to pump the trophy in and out, softly moaning as it rubs your inner walls. The trophy and the scandalous sight in the mirror brings you to your peak. Your hand quickly moves to your mouth to muffle your moans as you ride out your release.

⁑ "Doll, are you in here?" Vincent had opened the door without you noticing. You freeze up but are able to make eye contact with him through the mirror. His gaze drops to see the trophy half-hidden inside of you. "Doll, did you–? Have you–? Wow, it's hot in here!" Vincent stammers out, tugging at his collar in an attempt to cool down.

⁑ "Vincent, shut the door!" You call out while covering your face with your hands.

⁑ Vincent shuts the door before making his way towards you, looking at you with hungry eyes. "Looks like someone was enjoying her alone time," he growls as he notices your mess. Both the trophy and his chair are coated in your slick. "I hope you know that I can't let anyone have this award now you've left your claim on it." He hides the trophy in a drawer and notices your panties on his vanity. Smirking to himself, he gets an idea. "Let me clean this up, doll. Can you go wait by the door?"

⁑ As you make your way to the door, Vincent takes the panties you left behind to wipe down the mess in his chair before stuffing them in his pocket. "I deserve a trophy, too," he mutters out of earshot. Turning to you, he lets out a sigh and tries to push down the tent in his trousers. "The dinner is starting soon, and we have to be down the hall in less than five minutes," he pauses to lick his lips. "But once it's over, we're coming back here for round two."

✪ His hard cock presses into your backside as his hands pull you into him. You jest, "Someone's excited for dinner." Worried he might distract you from cooking, you turn the stove burner's heat down.

✪ Vincent's hands let go of you to unzip his trousers, falling to his ankles. He lifts up the bottom of your dress and slides a hand between your upper thighs. The hook of his nose gliding from your shoulder, down your back as he reaches downward. He whispers into your ear, "Good girl, wearing stockings for me instead of pantyhose."

✪ As much as you loved Vincent's possessiveness when he's needy for you, you didn't want him to rip open another pair of pantyhose. Stockings were the safer option.

✪ Vincent slid his cock between your thighs and rubbed it along your clothed pussy. His precum wetting your panties. When he removed his cock to pull down your panties, you stepped to the side so that no longer standing in front of the stove. Vincent pushed himself between your thighs again and mixed his precum with your slick, prepping your entrance for his cockhead.

✪ Now that you were standing away from the stove, Vincent bent you over the countertop and pushed his cock inside of you. His groans and your moans filling the air.

✪ Vincent didn't pull out after he came. He continued to pound into you with his still-hard cock. The kitchen timer buzzed shortly after your third orgasm. "Darling, I need to take the casserole out of the oven." You were determined to not burn dinner. Vincent reluctantly pulled out of you, allowing you to add the finishing touches to the dinner. Vincent sat down at the kitchen table, still fully erect, and pulled you onto his lap. You would be cockwarming him throughout dinner tonight.