palm

Genuinely how I’d be on those tits.

I’m not upset for my own sake? I do own it and have a whole post pinned about how I would not have a problem with him seeing my blog if he actively wanted to - because I’ve never written anything negative about him ever.

I think it’s important for him to know who the blogs/people are that get recognized by media outlets as the crazy fangirls

summary: after an afternoon at the beach, the sweet nerd from your book club confesses something to you that he’s been holding back for a LONG time

warnings: lu being a bit of a perv, light clit rubbing, face riding, (lu’s nose in particular) breastfeeding, lu uses a toy on the reader, unprotected sex, breeding, lu being a soft baby after sex

notes: i put my whole PUSSY into writing this fic also btw if u don’t know what an oodie is here is is here

word count: 7.3k :)

you’ve been at surfbreak for a few months now, and slowly, it’s started to feel like home. the salty air drifting in from the coast, the distant sound of waves, and the easygoing vibe of the apartment complex have become familiar comforts. what once felt temporary now feels like it could be something more. you’ve started to find your people, friends who are always around, whether you’re all stretched out on the sand, dipping your feet in the water, or just talking while the tide rolls in. it hasn’t been perfect, but it’s beginning to feel like you belong here.

you’ve also joined a book club that meets once a week on the beach. it’s a relaxed little group, just a handful of people who bring blankets, snacks, and whatever book is on the list that week. there’s no pressure, just easy conversation, different opinions, and the sound of waves in the background. sometimes the talk stays focused on the story of the week, and other times it drifts into personal stories and shared laughs. it’s become something you look forward to, a calm, familiar space where you can be who you are and feel connected.

it hasn’t always been easy finding people who let you be fully yourself. in most places, you felt like you had to hold parts of yourself back, too much, too weird, too quiet, too loud. but something about surfbreak is different.

here, no one expects you to fit into a mold. people are open, curious, and kind in a way that feels rare. for the first time in a long while, you don’t feel the need to shrink or pretend. you’re just you, and that’s enough.

you’re at one of the regular meetings on the beach, dressed in a simple brown bikini that blends with the sandy shore. while everyone else is out in the ocean, swimming and splashing around, you stay behind, laying on your stomach on the sand quietly reading this week’s book, the stranger by albert camus.

the sound of laughter and crashing waves fills the air, but you’re completely absorbed in the strange, haunting world unfolding on the pages. it’s a perfect balance, being part of the group’s energy while carving out a peaceful moment just for yourself.

luigi strolls up from the water, his skin glistening in the sunlight, droplets tracing slow paths down his chest. he’s shirtless, wearing white and blue striped swim trunks that cling to his frame, the fabric still damp from the ocean. his brown, curly hair is a tousled mess, sticking up in places from the saltwater and sea breeze. there’s a relaxed ease in the way he moves, like the ocean hasn’t quite let go of him yet.

when he reaches you, he stops a few feet away, sporting his usual charming grin. “still wrapped up in camus?” he asks, nodding toward the book in your hands. his voice is light and teasing, but there’s a quiet warmth in it.

luigi is the heart of the surfbreak book club, its founder, organizer, and undeniable glue. he’s the one who picks out the weekly reads, sends out gentle reminder texts, and drags a tote bag full of extra copies down to the beach in case someone forgets theirs.

he always starts the meetings with a question or two, but he never dominates the conversation, just nudges it along with a natural charm and an easy sense of humor. he listens more than he talks, and when he does speak, it’s thoughtful, sometimes surprising, and always engaging. people show up for the books, sure, but more than that, they show up for luigi.

he’s the kind of attractive that doesn’t ask for attention but gets it anyway. he’s tall, with sun kissed skin and a masculine frame that speaks to how much time he spends in the water. he’s always shirtless, wearing those same white and blue striped swim trunks that sit low on his hips, still damp from the ocean.

his brown curls are always a little messy, flattened and tousled by sea spray and wind. and then there’s that smile, wide, confident, and completely disarming. it lights up his whole face, softens the air around him, and makes it way too easy to fall into whatever moment he’s creating.

and he lives right next door. just a few steps away, separated by a single wall. you hear his music in the evenings, low and steady, sometimes his voice humming along. you run into him constantly, on the way to get mail, still dripping from the shower, wrapped in nothing but a towel and that same fucking smile.

it started out casual: a wave, a laugh, the occasional conversation that went just a little too long. but over time, something unspoken has started to grow between you. a glance held too long, a brush of skin that lingers just a moment more than it should.

there’s a tension that’s always been there, quiet, constant, and impossible to ignore. you feel it when he leans close to make a comment during book club, when his knee bumps yours under the table, when he looks at you like he’s thinking something he won’t say. you haven’t acted on it, not yet, but it would be a lie to pretend he hasn’t slipped into your thoughts. on more than one night, alone in your apartment, you’ve found yourself thinking of him, his hands, his voice, the weight of his body, while your own hands moved slowly beneath the covers.

you’ve tried to push those thoughts aside, to pretend they don’t mean anything, but the truth is you’ve imagined what it would be like if he closed the space between you. and sometimes, when you catch him looking at you like he might be imagining it too, it’s almost enough to make you want to find out.

you glance up at him, and your lips curve into a small, instinctive smile. it’s not forced or overly bright, just honest, warm in a quiet, intimate way. and you see it immediately: the shift in his expression.

his grin softens, and his eyes, already warm from the sun, seem to melt around the edges. that teasing spark dims into something more tender, and for a beat, he just watches you like he’s seeing something he didn’t know he’d been looking for.

you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and nod toward the book. “it’s hard to put down,” you say, your voice soft, thoughtful. “it’s bleak, yeah, but… there’s something beautiful about it too. the way it strips everything down, makes you sit with the uncomfortable parts.” you pause, still looking at him. “i guess i like how honest it is. even when it hurts.”

he doesn’t say anything right away, just stands there, water still dripping from his curls, his eyes never leaving yours.

then, without a word, he extends his hand toward you, open, inviting, droplets of seawater still sliding down his arm, catching the sunlight like glass.

“come on,” he says, voice low and easy, laced with that familiar warmth. “get up. come into the water with me.”

your breath catches, just a little. it’s actually fucking ridiculous how something as simple as him holding out his hand can send a burst of heat through your chest. you glance at it, at him, and suddenly you’re hype aware of everything, the heat of the sun on your back, the way his fingers are just waiting for yours, the curve of his mouth like he already knows you’re going to say yes.

your pulse stumbles as you shift in the sand, blinking up at him like he’s just knocked something loose inside you. “come onnn, can i at least finish this chapter?” you ask, trying to sound casual, even as your voice gives the smallest shake. but your hand is already reaching for his.

luigi chuckles, quiet and low, the sound blending with the distant crash of the waves. “the book’s not going anywhere,” he says, his voice calm and steady. “you’ve still got more that enough time to finish it.”

you glance at his hand, hovering there between you, and then slowly reach out to take it. the moment your fingers meet his, a rush moves through you, warm and startling, like the feeling of stepping into the sun after a long stretch in the shade.

luigi’s hand is rough and damp from the ocean, solid in yours, and it makes something flutter deep in your chest. you weren’t expecting a simple touch to feel like this, to feel like something you’ve wanted longer than you’ve let yourself admit.

he gives your hand a gentle tug, helping you up from the sand with ease. for a moment, neither of you moves. his hand stays in yours, not tightly, but like neither of you is quite ready to let go. then, finally, he does, quietly, without a word, and the loss of that contact is immediate.

you feel the absence of his hand like a cool breeze against warm skin as he turns back toward the water, and you just stand there, heart racing, trying to steady yourself against the strange, wonderful weight of what just passed between you.

you fall into step beside him as the two of you head toward the water, the sand warm beneath your feet, soft and shifting with each step. the sounds of the others in the ocean, splashes, laughter, voices carried by the breeze, drift around you, but it all feels a little distant, like you’re moving through a moment set slightly apart from the rest of the world.

you stride ahead of him without thinking, the salty breeze playing with your hair, the sun’s heat caressing your bare skin. when you glance back, words caught in your throat, you catch his eyes devouring your curves, fixed intently on your ass for a heated second before they flick up to lock with yours.

no words are exchanged. he doesn’t try to cover his hunger, and you don’t taunt him for it. the moment slips away like a tide, fleeting but heavy with raw, unspoken desire.

you turn toward the ocean, but your thoughts linger on that electric instant. a deep, sultry thrill sparks in your core, undeniable and intense. the image of luigi, steady, measured, always holding back, undressing you with his eyes ignites a molten heat that spreads through your body.

it’s not just that his gaze lingered. It’s that you ached for it, savored it. and you’re almost certain he knows exactly how much you wanted it.

the ocean wraps around you like a second skin, cool, then warm, then somewhere in between, like it’s adjusting to you as much as you’re adjusting to it. as wade in deeper, the sand slips away beneath your feet and the water begins to hold you, lifting the weight off your body until you feel nearly weightless.

the sun glints off the surface in little shards of light, and every inch of your skin hums with relief, the kind that goes deeper than muscle.

you close your eyes for a moment, letting the water slide past your shoulders, letting it soften everything. your breathing slows, your thoughts settle. there’s something about the way the ocean moves around you that makes it hard to hold onto anything heavy.

luigi is nearby, standing waist-deep, his arms loose at his sides, the water swirling around him. he glances over, his curls slicked back and dripping, and there’s something steady in his gaze. no words at first, just a look that feels like an anchor in the shifting tide.

you float closer, moving without effort, the current nudging you in his direction. when you meet his eyes, you offer a quiet, slightly breathless smile.

“now i see why you’re out here every day,” you say, voice soft and sincere.

a small flicker passes through his expression, something like understanding, something like maybe he’s glad you get it now. he doesn’t say anything right away. just watches you a second longer, then dips his hand into the water and flicks a small wave in your direction.

you laugh, light and easy, tilting your head as the droplets land against your skin. “hey!!!”

“i told you,” he says, the corner of his mouth tugging up. “it fixes things.”

you don’t disagree. you just float there beside him, the water lapping gently at your collarbone, the sky stretching wide above you, and something in your chest loosens like a knot you hadn’t noticed until now.

you then decide dive beneath the surface, letting the cool water rush over you in one exhilarating sweep. it slips along your skin like silk, stealing the sun’s warmth and leaving behind something cleaner, freer. when you rise again, gasping and laughing, you feel loose, light… until you notice something’s off.

there’s a shift at your back. a give. and then… nothing.

you freeze. your arms fold across your chest in an instant, hands clutching instinctively. the knot of your bikini has come undone, the thin strings now drifting uselessly in the water.

your pulse spikes, heat blooming across your cheeks despite the chill. you try to twist and fix it yourself, but the angles are awkward, and your hands are shaking just enough to fumble the task.

“hey,” luigi mutters softly, closer than you thought. “what’s the matter?”

you glance over your shoulder, he’s right there, watching you… not with amusement, not with pity, but calm, quiet understanding. his gaze doesn’t wander. it just waits.

“my top came undone,” you say, low, a little breathless. “i… yeah. it’s a fucking mess.”

there’s a beat of silence, and then he moves toward you, careful and slow, like he knows how delicate the moment is.

“need a hand?”

you hesitate. but you don’t say no.

he comes closer, the water shifting between you. when he stops behind you, his voice lowers to a gentle murmur. “okay if i touch?”

you nod, just once, your heart thudding hard enough to echo in your ears.

then his fingers are there, brushing your skin, collecting the loose strings. his hands are warm against the chill of the ocean, rougher than you expected, sure and steady. he works in silence, tying the knot with a surprising gentleness, careful not to rush or pull too tight. the pressure of his fingers lingers, and with it, a strange current runs down your spine.

the contact shouldn’t feel this intimate. it’s just a bikini top. just two hands tying a knot. but somehow, it’s more than that.

it’s the nearness of him behind you, the care in his touch, the heat that rises to the surface of your skin even beneath the cold water. it’s the quiet between you, thick with unspoken things.

“there,” he says finally, voice close to your ear, barely louder than the sound of the waves. “you look good.”

you stay still for a moment longer, your breath catching in your throat. you don’t want to move. not yet. not with the ghost of his touch still burning on your skin.

when you finally turn, he’s already given you space again, eyes unreadable now, jaw tight with restraint.

“thanks…” you say, softly, like anything louder might break whatever just passed between you.

he nods once, but there’s something behind his expression, a flicker of tension, of awareness, that tells you he felt it too.

and as you float there, your back still tingling from his hands, you realize something you can’t quite say out loud.

you didn’t just feel exposed when the knot came undone.

you felt seen when he tied it again.

and now, you can’t stop wondering what else he might touch that carefully… if you let him.

who knew that swimming with a friend could be so… intimate?

because that’s all that luigi is. a friend.

a few minutes pass, and luigi’s eyes flick to the horizon, where the sky shifts from molten gold to a lush, suggestive purple. the last glimmers of sunlight ripple across the water, casting long, teasing shadows over the sand.

“let’s get out,” he says, voice low and rough, catching on the heat simmering beneath his words. “it’s getting dark.”

you nod, words caught in your throat, your body buzzing with the unspoken. you move toward the shore together, steps aligned, wading through the surf as the waves lap at your calves, slow and possessive, as if reluctant to release you.

the sand tugs at your feet, warm from the sun’s lingering kiss, cooler where the water meets it. you cross your arms, the breeze grazing your damp skin, every nerve electric with the memory of luigi tying that knot at your back, his fingers brushing your spine, binding you in ways that linger.

he follows just behind, close enough to feel his warmth, the air between you charged with a pull that feels alive. his presence is a quiet throb, a temptation hovering in the space where his hands could be.

reaching your towel, the sky has deepened to a rich, velvet dusk, the beach quiet, distant voices fading into the night. you gather your things slowly, each movement heavy with what you’re not saying, what you’re not sure you can hold back.

luigi stays close, unhurried, his gaze tracing you. his damp curls fall in wild disarray, his swim trunks clinging to the contours of his thighs, the sight stirring something raw and untamed deep inside you making it hard to look at him without feeling the heat coil tighter in your core.

that’s when you see it. your eyes drift downward, catching on the blue and white fabric of his swim trunks, where the damp material molds to him, outlining the clear, bold shape of his erection.

your heart kicks up, a rapid thud against your ribs, each beat pulsing with the heat flooding your veins. the sight sends your mind spiralling, did the simple act of him tying up your bikini spark this in him?

then luigi shifts, his gaze dropping as if sensing your attention. his eyes widen, a flush creeping up his neck, blooming bright red across his cheeks. he clears his throat, voice tight. “i’ll, uh… see you later,” he mutters, scrambling to grab his towel and shirt, the sand kicking up under his feet.

without another glance, he fast walks toward the apartment complex, his silhouette retreating into the dusk, leaving the charged air between you vibrating in his absence.

hours later, you’re curled up in bed, the faint glow of the tv spilling sultry blues and grays across your tangled sheets. some old movie drones softly in the background, its murmurs barely piercing the quiet, just enough to keep the silence from closing in.

but your focus isn’t on the screen, its still trapped on the beach, ensnared by the heated pull of what sparked between you and luigi.

you’re wearing nothing but an oodie, the warm, thick material grazing your bare thighs and teasing the edges of your hips.

fresh from the shower, your body is warm, still tingling, but no amount of steamy water could erase the memory of luigi’s hands on you, his fingers, slow and deliberate, brushing your spine as he tied your bikini. that touch, lingering too long, ignited something deep and molten inside you. and then you saw what it did to him.

you close your eyes, your pulse quickening, a slow burn pulsing low in your core. the image of him is vivid, unshakable, his damp swim trunks, blue and white, molded to every hard curve of him, the brazen outline of his dick stark and undeniable.

it’s etched into you now, his body’s raw confession of want, even as he flushed scarlet and fled into the dusk.

you pull the oodie tighter, but it only teases your skin, doing nothing to douse the heat coiling in your belly. your mind keeps slipping back to that moment, to the electric jolt of desire that crackled between you, sharp and alive. you wonder if he’s awake too, just a wall away, his body taut with the same restless craving knotting through you.

a soft knock at the door snaps you out of your thoughts, sharp and unexpected in the late night quiet. your heart stumbles, pulse quickening as you slide out of bed, the oodie brushing against your bare thighs. you pad through the dim apartment, the floor cool under your feet, the air heavy with anticipation. it’s late, far too late for visitors, yet something in you already knows who it is.

you open the door, and there’s luigi, standing in the hallway, looking deliciously disheveled. his curls are a wild mess, his shirt wrinkled, clinging to his frame as if he threw it on in a hurry. his eyes meet yours, dark and intense, carrying that same raw energy from the beach, now amplified in the stillness of the night. he doesn’t speak right away, but the way he looks at you, unsteady, hungry, says everything he’s holding back.

without hesitation, he steps inside, crossing into your space with a quiet intensity that sets your pulse racing. he moves past you, his presence electric, heading straight for your bedroom like he’s pulled by some unspoken force. you follow, heart hammering, the oodie grazing your skin with every step. he reaches your bed and collapses onto it, sinking into the rumpled sheets.

you linger near the doorway, watching him sprawl across your bed like he belongs there, like the weight of whatever he’s carrying finally caught up with him the moment he stepped inside. he exhales, long and uneven, eyes shut, the rise and fall of his chest steadying as the silence stretches.

you raise an eyebrow, arms folding across your chest. “well, hey to you too, i guess.”

his eyes blink open slowly, turning toward you. there’s a flicker of something in his gaze, not quite apology, not quite need, but something tender and unguarded.

“sorry,” he says, voice low and frayed. “i just… didn’t know where else to go. i didn’t want to be anywhere else.”

his words hang between you, quiet and vulnerable. he doesn’t look away, he waits, like he’s not sure if coming here was a mistake, but he couldn’t stop himself either.

you cross the room, sit beside him on the edge of the bed. “luigi,” you say gently, “what’s wrong? you’ve been acting weird since the beach.”

his arm drops away from his face. he turns his head toward you, eyes dark and unreadable in the low light. then he says it, quietly, almost like a confession.

“look, i know you saw… how hard my dick was.”

the words hang in the space between you, unflinching and real. your breath catches, your pulse stumbling in your chest.

he sits up slowly, his knees brushing yours, gaze locked on your face. “i didn’t mean for it to happen like that. but being that close to you, tying your bikini string back up… fuck, it messed me up.”

he pauses, searching your face for something, fear, rejection, maybe even hope.

then he leans closer, his voice dropping even lower, rough with honesty. “i jerk off thinking about you most nights.” his words hit like a spark, igniting the air between you. “that picture you posted on Instagram, the one of you in that little red dress? i’ve jerked off to that too, more times than i wanna admit.”

luigi’s eyes hold yours, dark and unrelenting, the heat in them almost tangible. he shifts even nearer, his breath warm, stirring the charged space between you. “i know you’re touching yourself to thoughts of me too,” he murmurs, voice low and gritty. “i’ve heard your vibrator through these walls, they’re thinner than you think.”

your heart pounds, a rush of heat pooling deep as his words land. he presses on, gaze burning. “sometimes, i touch myself at the same time, picturing you right there, just a wall away. and every damn time, i fight the urge to just come over and fuck you.”

your cheeks flush, a warm blush spreading, but a sly smirk tugs at your lips. you tilt your head, meeting his gaze with a spark of mischief. “well you should’ve done it,” you say, voice low and teasing. “i wouldn’t have complained.”

luigi’s eyes darken, a flicker of something wild passing through them. he leans closer, his voice a low, hungry rasp. “i’ll do it now.”

before you can catch your breath, he closes the distance, his lips crashing into yours with a heat that’s been building for months. his kiss is urgent, consuming, his mouth moving against yours with a desperate edge, like he’s been starving for this. his hands find your waist, pulling you closer, fingers digging into the soft fabric of the oodie as he presses himself against you.

you melt into him, your hands sliding up his chest, tangling in his disheveled curls as you deepen the kiss, tongues brushing in a slow, sensual dance that sends sparks down your spine. the room fades, the faint hum of the TV drowned out by the sound of your shared breaths, heavy and uneven. his lips are warm, tasting faintly of salt from the beach, and every slide of his mouth against yours pulls a soft sound from you, answered by a low groan from him.

he shifts, guiding you back against the bed, his body hovering over yours, the weight of his desire palpable as the kiss grows hungrier, messier, both of you lost in the heat of finally giving in.

your lips clash with a fevered intensity, moans spilling into each other’s mouths, soft and desperate, as your tongues tangle in a rhythm that feels both reckless and right. his hands roam, one sliding under the hem of your oversized hoodie, fingers brushing up the sensitive skin of your thigh until they find your bare core, warm and slick with want.

he pauses, lips still grazing yours, and his voice comes out low, rough with awe.

“are you always this wet?” luigi murmurs, the words vibrating against your mouth. then his fingers move, finding your clit with a slow, deliberate rub that sends a jolt of pleasure through you, his touch teasing and confident as he watches your reaction, the kiss deepening with every shared gasp.

your body arches instinctively into his hand, a soft whimper escaping your lips as the sensation ripples through you, electric and overwhelming.

“oh my god!” you gasp, the words slipping out in a breathless rush, your hands gripping his shoulders as you melt under his touch, the heat in your core intensifying with every circle of his fingers.

luigi’s eyes darken, a low groan rumbling from him as he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his voice thick with desire. “lets get this off you,” he says, his hands already tugging at the hem of your oodie. he lifts it over your head in one smooth motion, tossing it aside to reveal your naked body, your skin flushed and bare under his hungry stare, the air between you crackling with raw, unspoken need.

his eyes roam over you, taking in every curve, every inch of exposed skin, his breath hitching as his eyes burn with unrestrained want.

“shit,” he murmurs, voice rough and reverent, “you’re fucking gorgeous.” he leans in, lips brushing your collarbone, then lower, his hands skimming your sides like he’s memorizing you. “i gotta taste you,” he says, the words dripping with need.

he shifts, lying back on the bed, his curls splayed against the pillow as he looks up at you, eyes blazing. “ride my face, please,” he urges, voice low and pleading, his hands reaching for your hips, guiding you toward him with a hunger that sets your pulse racing.

his words hit you like a spark, igniting a rush of heat that’s both thrilling and overwhelming, the raw need in his voice drawing you in. already on the bed, you pause for a heartbeat, your body buzzing with anticipation, then slowly crawl toward him, your movements deliberate as you straddle his chest, thighs framing his face.

guided by his hands, you lower yourself gently, feeling the warmth of his breath against your core. the instant his tongue delves into you, hot and eager, you let out a sharp moan, the sensation jolting through you like electricity. luigi moans too, a deep, primal sound that reverberates against your pussy, intensifying the pleasure as it ripples through you, his grip tightening on your hips, pulling you closer as you both surrender to the raw intensity of the moment.

his tongue laps at you greedily, swirling and sucking with fervent precision, laving over your swollen clit and dipping into your dripping core, each stroke sending shudders through you. your fingers dig into the headboard, a desperate cry spilling from your lips as the pleasure surges, raw and unrelenting.

he pulls back just enough to rasp against your soaked skin, voice thick with lust, “fuck, you taste so much sweeter than i imagined.” the words ignite a fresh rush of heat, and he dives back in, tongue working you with insatiable hunger, licking and sucking with a ferocity that drives you toward the brink, the air thick with your shared, unrestrained desire.

“luigi, please!” you gasp, your voice trembling with need, the intensity of his mouth driving you wild. your hips begin to move, slowly at first, grinding against his face as you ride the rhythm of his tongue, chasing the electric sparks that jolt through your core.

his hands grip your thighs, urging you on, his lips and tongue relentless, sucking hard on your clit, then plunging deep inside you, lapping up your slickness with a hunger that makes your whole body quake. his moans vibrate against your soaked folds, each sound sending a fresh wave of pleasure ripping through you.

he pulls back just enough to growl against your skin, voice thick with lust, “you looked so fucking good at the beach today in that little brown bikini. i was so tempted to just… drag you somewhere private and taste you for hours.”

the words hit you like a bolt, fueling your movements as you grind harder against his mouth, your juices coating his lips and chin, his tongue relentless, flicking and sucking with obscene precision, driving you closer to the edge as your moans fill the room.

your hips shift instinctively, your slick folds gliding over the bridge of his nose, the new sensation sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through you. you grind against it, slow and deliberate, the pressure on your swollen clit sparking waves of ecstasy that make you shudder.

a desperate moan spills from your lips, raw and unfiltered, as the friction builds, and luigi’s grip on your thighs tightens, his own moan vibrating against you, deep and guttural.

“oh, baby,” he groans, the words muffled against your dripping core, the sound sending shivers through you as he presses his face closer, nose and tongue working in tandem to drive you wild.

your movements grow more frantic, grinding harder against his nose, each motion pulling louder moans from both of you, the air thick with the wet sounds of your pleasure and the raw, shared hunger consuming you both.

time blurs, minutes melting into a haze of relentless sensation as you ride his face, your soaked folds sliding over the bridge of his nose, the pressure on your pulsing clit sending tremors through your core. your thighs shake, muscles tightening as you chase the mounting heat, your moans sharper, more frantic.

luigi’s hands clutch your hips, guiding your rhythm, his own groans muffled against your dripping pussy, the vibrations pushing you toward the edge. “luigi, fuck! i’m gonna cum…” you whine, voice cracking as the pleasure coils tight, ready to burst.

“give it to me,” he murmurs, voice low and urgent against your skin, his tongue swirling feverishly over your clit as his nose presses perfectly against you. your body locks, a raw cry ripping from your throat as you come hard, your release gushing over his nose and mouth, hot and slick.

luigi moans, deep and ravenous, his tongue lapping hungrily at every drop, sucking and licking your sensitive folds, savoring every bit of your pleasure as your body quakes through the aftershocks.

still catching your breath, the lingering heat coursing through you, you slide off him, your thighs shaky as you kneel beside him on the bed. your hands find the hem of his rumpled t shirt, pulling it up, and he raises his arms to assist, letting you strip it away.

his body comes into view under the soft light, a flawless display of lean, chiseled muscle, his chest broad and sculpted, abs subtly defined with each breath, his bronzed skin glowing faintly from the day at the beach. every contour of him is striking, a natural perfection that sets your pulse racing anew.

before you can soak in the sight, luigi acts quickly, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his grey sweatpants and tugging them down in one fluid motion. he tosses them to the side, the fabric landing in a heap on the floor, leaving him in just grey calvin kleins, the tight material straining over the bold outline of his erection.

your eyes lock onto it, the sheer size of him impossible to ignore, the fabric stretched taut, revealing every thick, pulsing inch. a mix of awe and desire floods you as you reach out, fingers grazing the waistband of his underwear. slowly, you pull it down, inch by inch, until his cock springs free, hard and impossibly large, the sight making your core ache. a nervous giggle escapes you, and you look up at him, a playful glint in your eyes.

“now i see why you call yourself mr phd,” you tease, voice light but laced with heat. luigi laughs, a low, confident chuckle, his eyes glimmering with amusement. “well now you know i wasn’t lying when i said that,” he replies, his tone cocky yet warm. before you can say more, he leans in, capturing your lips in a deep, hungry kiss, his tongue sweeping against yours with a fervor that makes you melt.

in one quick motion, he flips you onto your back, the mattress dipping under his weight as he hovers over you. his lips find yours again, kissing you with a slow, searing intensity, before trailing lower. his mouth closes over your breast, sucking gently at first, then harder, his tongue flicking over your nipple, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through you as you arch into him, the heat between you blazing hotter.

a soft moan spills from your lips, your body trembling under the warmth of his mouth, and your hand instinctively slides down, fingers finding your clit, rubbing in slow, desperate circles as the pleasure builds.

each swirl of his tongue and pull of his lips amplifies the sensation, your moans growing louder, more urgent, as you grind against your own touch. suddenly, luigi pulls back, your breast leaving his mouth with a wet pop, his eyes wild with need. “i can’t anymore,” he rasps, voice thick with desperation, “i gotta fuck you.”

he shifts, spreading your thighs wide, his throbbing cock, slick with precum, dragging along your dripping pussy, the hot, torturous glide making you quiver with want. you moan, the sensation overwhelming, and your voice breaks, needy and raw, “stop fucking teasing me and just fuck me.”

luigi lets out a husky laugh, his gaze gleaming with lustful mischief. “alright, alright,” he murmurs, voice thick with heat. he positions himself, and with agonizing slowness, he pushes all seven inches of his thick, pulsing cock into you, stretching your tight walls in a way that rips a loud, trembling whimper from your lips.

“you alright?” he asks, concern lacing his tone as he stills, fully buried in your slick heat. “yeah,” you gasp, your body struggling to accommodate his massive size, “just need a moment…you’re fucking huge.” he waits, chest heaving, letting you adjust to the intense stretch. after a beat, you nod, voice steadier.

“okay, go ahead and move.” his eyes lock onto yours, fierce yet tender. “i’ll start slow,” he promises, beginning to thrust with a deep, deliberate rhythm, each stroke filling you completely. he leans down, collapsing against you, his sweat slicked body pressed to yours, nose to nose.

instinctively, you wrap your legs around his torso, locking your ankles behind him, pulling him deeper as your thighs grip his sides. your arms slide around his back, fingers digging into the taut muscles of his shoulders, clinging to him as if you could meld your bodies together.

luigi’s thrusts remain slow but purposeful, each one a steady, deep plunge that has you gasping, your walls clenching around his throbbing length. he starts to moan, low and primal, the sound vibrating against your skin.

“fucking beautiful,” he groans, his voice rough with awe, “i regret not making a move sooner.” you moan in response, your voice trembling with pleasure, “me too.” your hips rock to meet his, the slick friction of his cock sliding in and out driving you wild, your juices coating him as he fills you over and over.

he keeps fucking you, his pace steady but relentless, each thrust long and deep, his thick shaft dragging against your sensitive walls, hitting spots that make your vision blur. the wet sounds of your bodies moving together fill the room, mingling with your shared moans, his cock stretching you with every slow, deliberate pump.

his sweat slicked chest slides against yours, his breath hot against your lips as he stays close, nose to nose, his eyes never leaving yours. each thrust feels like a claim, his hips grinding into you, the base of his cock brushing your clit with every motion, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you. your nails rake down his back, urging him on as your moans grow louder, more desperate, your pussy pulsing around him.

he groans again, deeper this time, his rhythm unwavering, fucking you with a slow, torturous intensity that has you teetering on the edge, every inch of him filling you, claiming you, as the heat between you builds to a fever pitch, the room alive with the raw, graphic intensity of your connection.

his hips grind into you, the slick slide of his shaft driving you wild, and then he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, a wicked glint in his eyes. “where’s your vibrator?” he asks, voice low and teasing, but edged with hunger.

you laugh, caught off guard, your voice breathless. “what?”

“your vibrator, idiot,” he says, a playful smirk tugging at his lips, though his eyes burn with intent.

still trembling from his thrusts, you manage a shaky grin. “uh, it’s under the pillow next to me.”

luigi reaches over, his hand slipping beneath the pillow, and pulls out the sleek toy. with a quick flick, he turns it on, the low hum cutting through the air. he presses it against your clit, the sudden vibration sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through you, amplifying the stretch of his cock inside you.

your body arches, a loud moan ripping from your throat as the dual sensations overwhelm you. he starts fucking you faster, his hips snapping harder, each thrust driving his thick length deeper, the vibrator buzzing relentlessly against your swollen clit. “oh my… fuck!” you cry out, your voice breaking as the pleasure spikes, your walls clenching tight around him.

luigi whines, a raw, primal sound, his pace quickening even more, his cock pounding into you with a wet, rhythmic slap. the vibrator hums against your clit, his thrusts growing faster and harder, each one pushing you closer to the brink.

the vibrator buzzes mercilessly against your swollen clit, sending electric jolts of pleasure through you, amplifying the brutal rhythm of his hips slamming into yours. your moans erupt, loud and unrestrained, echoing through the room as your body arches, overwhelmed by the intensity of his thrusts and the toy’s relentless hum.

luigi’s moans match yours, deep and beautiful, spilling out as he drives into you with unyielding force, the bed creaking beneath the ferocity of his movements. “you sound so fucking hot, jesus christ,” he groans, voice ragged with lust, “i could fuck you for days.” your hands claw at his back, nails raking down his skin, leaving angry red trails as you grip him desperately, urging him on. his cock fills you completely, each punishing thrust hitting that sweet spot inside you.

the dual assault of his relentless pounding and the toy’s buzzing push you to your absolute limit. you moans grow even louder, more frantic, spilling from your lips in a desperate chorus as your body trembles, teetering on the edge.

“luigi, baby, i’m gonna cum,” you gasp, voice breaking with need, “can i cum all over your cock? please?” your plea hangs in the air, raw and urgent, as your pussy clenches tighter around him, the overwhelming sensation driving you toward a shattering release.

luigi’s eyes burn with hunger, his breath uneven. “fucking do it,” he rasps, voice thick with desire, “you’re so fucking tight.” he thrusts faster, his thick cock pounding into you with ferocious intensity, each deep stroke slamming into that perfect spot inside you, the vibrator’s relentless buzz against your poor clit driving you insane. your moans escalate into frantic cries, your body trembling uncontrollably as the pleasure consumes you.

your nails rake down his back, and then it hits, an explosive wave of ecstasy crashes through you, your pussy spasming wildly around his cock, gushing hot, slick release that soaks him, dripping down your thighs as you scream his name, your body arching and quaking through the intense, shuddering orgasm.

luigi bites your shoulder, a stifled moan rumbling against you as he’s struck by the sight of your orgasm, your pulsing walls squeezing him tight. the power of your climax sends him over the brink, and he comes with a primal groan, his cock pulsing violently as he unleashes thick, hot jets of cum deep inside your clenching pussy.

each throbbing spurt fills you, his hips jerking hard as his release floods your tight core, the creamy heat of his cum mixing with your slickness, leaking out around his shaft and coating both of you as he grinds through the last shudders of his orgasm, the air electric with the raw, graphic intensity of your shared release.

his cock softens, slowly slipping out of you, leaving a warm, wet trail as he shifts, nuzzling his face into the soft curve of your breasts, his breath warm and steady against your skin. you wrap your arms around him, pulling him close, your fingers tracing gentle circles across his sweat dampened back as you press a tender kiss to his forehead, your lips lingering there.

the intimacy of the moment wraps around you both, soft and grounding after the storm of passion. luigi laughs, his voice muffled against your chest. “we should make this a regular thing…” he murmurs, a playful warmth in his tone, his curls tickling your skin as he nestles closer.

you smile, your heart still racing but soft with affection. “we should,” you reply, voice low and teasing, as you pull him closer, your arms tightening around his warm body. you reach for the blanket, tugging it over both of you, cocooning you in its soft weight, the world shrinking to just the two of you tangled together.

luigi shifts slightly, his face still nestled against you, and says, “we should have lunch together tomorrow, i don’t know…” his voice trails off, a little hesitant but warm. you grin, a playful spark in your eyes.

“aww, are you asking me out on a date?” you tease, brushing a curl from his forehead. his cheeks flush, a soft blush creeping up as he glances up at you, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “maybe…” he admits, his voice soft but sincere.

“i’d like that,” you say, your tone warm and genuine, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back.

he yawns, a happy sound, and murmurs, “good,” his voice heavy with sleep as he snuggles closer to you, placing a kiss on your bare chest.

tags: @alleviatcd @luigisbambinaaa @gigimangione @corrodeddeadlydoll @contrarianshitstan-blog @weegeewifey @mangionesdoll @mangobabygirl @luigisnumber1fan @fligniuz @number1yearner @soulsmangione @ohsorrythen @bbyelle12 @mangionebabymama @briarloves @luigis-stellina @mangionesdaisy @thm12 @purplebadd1e @kikigoogoogaga @daydreamingwithluigi