#blitz fic

“Well, now I don’t even wanna sit on it,” you say, and Blitzø snickers you hiccough halfway through your next sentence. “And besides, unless you’re expectin’ Loona to stay sober at that party she snuck off to, I’m pretty sure you’re the one camping on the couch.”

Blitzø’s head snaps around, eyes searching the rest of the office for his daughter with a surprising level of momentary sobriety. “Wh—Loonie!”

When she doesn’t present herself, he sighs, running a hand down over his face. Then, he turns his attention back to you, tail waving behind him as he fixes you with a teasing smirk. “Hm. Guess we’re spoonin’ then.”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift back and forth in his mood. Then you laugh, and his smile widens, pleased with himself.

“Dream on, B.”

“If you insist, cock tease – but in my dreams, you’re naked.”

“Pervert.”

“Yeah, yeah… you want another drink or not?”

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Your head is spinning as you push yourself up to sit on Loona’s desk, letting your legs swing back and forth. You gasp as you accidentally knock your cup from the edge of the desk with your hand, grimacing apologetically at Blitzø as it spills a double shot of rum onto the carpet. He doesn’t even seem to register it, other than passing you the bottle dangling from his fingertips. You take a swig as he leans the small of his back against the edge of the desk beside you, ankles crossed and tail twitching, exhaling the burn of it with a high little ‘haah’.

“The fuck did Millie go?” you ask, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You lean into him, resting your cheek on the curve of his horn.

Blitzø waves a hand towards the conference room, where a scuffling, a thud, and a loud moan sound from behind the door. He grins, sharp-toothed, wiggling his eyebrows at you suggestively. “She’s jinglin’ Moxxie’s bells.”

You snort, nudging his shoulder with your elbow. “And you’re not in there filming it?”

The imp shrugs a shoulder, surprising you by turning and taking hold of your knees. He pushes them apart, leaning up into you so your faces are barely a foot apart. His tail twitches, and yours does the same as the first, surprising spark of lust flares in your belly at his proximity. Maybe not so surprising… you were just usually sober enough to keep those thoughts determinedly packed at the back of your brain. “Maybe I’d prefer an actin’ credit.”

You can’t help the scoff of laughter that escapes you at the lousy pun, even if the honeyed tone and lower register of his words makes that spark burn warmer. The sound is cut abruptly short when Blitzø reaches up, grabs a fistful of hair at the back of your head, and pulls you down into a kiss.

It’s messy and he tastes of eggnog and rum and smoke, but his tongue is in your mouth and you find yourself whimpering at the feel of it sliding against yours. Blitzø’s other hand tightens on your knee, squeezing the softer flesh just above it, claws threatening to tear holes in the stockings you’re wearing under your skirt. Ignoring reasonable thought, you wrap your arms around his neck, one hand spreading its fingers between the spikes at the back of his head. His grip in your hair borders on painful and you delight in it, groaning into the imp’s mouth. He echoes the sound, almost despite himself, pushing your legs wider, releasing your hair so he can wrap large hands around your thighs.

He tugs you drunkenly to the very edge of the desk and you almost lose your balance, your chin bumping against his forehead.

“Ow!” he sounds more amused than hurt, a smirk playing over his features. His tail switches slowly behind him, eager. “Drunken bitch.”

“You’re one to talk,” you retort, hooking your fingers in his belt. He presses himself against you, trapping your fingers between the two of you, and you can feel him hard beneath your touch. “You’re… you’re drunk.”

“Sweet burn, sugartits,” he eye-rolls, bringing his mouth back to yours as he fumbles with his belt. He tugs it free from his belt loops and tosses it aside, kissing you fiercely, teeth catching your bottom lip. When Blitzø brings his hand under your skirt and cups the heat of your cunt you gasp into his mouth, and he snickers into yours. “Got another?”

“Shut up and fuck me before I remember why this is a bad idea,” you tell him and Blitzø grins, hooking a claw through your tights and beneath your panties and tearing both of them open with a obnoxious rip. “Blitz!”

“’m opening my present, slut,” he leers, cupping a hand over the bulge in his jeans and squeezing. ‘Now shut up and let me fuck it.”

“Satan fuck you’re a romantic.”

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Blitzø takes you from behind, bending you over the arm of the couch. He grips at your hips, your ass, his cock stretching your soaking cunt. High-pitched, jerky moans escape you every time he thrusts into you, the sounds muffled by the cushions beneath you. Blitzø’s tail is wrapped around your wrists, pinning your hands against the small of your back, your skirt flipped up over them.

“Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ wet, tits,” he growls, slamming his hips into yours. He hooks a hand under your thigh to find your clit, and your fingers tighten on the couch cushion hard enough to tear the fabric open. Your toes barely brush the carpet, the position leaving you helpless under his touch. “Holy shit…”

“Fuck, Blitz…” you moan, your eyes rolling back. He’s so deep in you, his cock filling you so addictively with every thrust. Blitzø’s claws drag over your flesh, leaving stripes against yours skin, pain flaring under his touch. You can still hear similar sounds coming from M and M in the conference room, and if anything, it spurns you on further, adding to the heat burning in your belly and between your legs. “Fuck!”

“That’s it, slut…” he groans, his breathing heavy, shaking. “Gonna make you squirt on my cock…”

“Please,” you urge, whining as his tail tightens reflexively around your wrists. Your own tail winds around his thigh and Blitzø’s breath catches. “Please, Blitz… I need to—fuck, I need to cum…”

“Gonna fill you up, gonna… shit…” Blitzø pinches your clit and moans in unison with you as you cum, your cunt tightening vice-like around you. The imp pounds into your in a few more desperate, hungry thrusts, and he doubles over you as he cums inside you. You shudder through it, twitching when he surprises you by brushing his lips over your shoulder blade.  “Haaaa… fuck…”

“Merry fuckin’ Sinsmas,” you exhale, whimpering as he pulls out of you. He smacks your ass and you jump, his hand massaging over the stinging flesh.

You’d mentioned this little kink of yours to him a few weeks ago while on a come down from being totally cock-drunk, your face flushing this pretty little colour that he found hilarious. And besides, you’d always been up for him to use you; he never saw you more of a drooly, horny mess than when he dragged you away from whatever bullshit you were doing and took what he needed.

He strips down to his briefs, kneading his hand over them to tease his hardening cock. He crawls onto the bed, the movement sleek and agile, a predatory cat. He pauses halfway up your legs to press a kiss to the inside of your thigh, just above your knee, if only so he can watch your face to see if you’re faking it. Your nose twitches slightly, but otherwise, you don’t stir.

Blitzø grins, sharp-toothed and wicked, and he trails a hand up your calf and takes hold of your knee, pushing your legs further open. He doesn’t bother with easing your underwear down your legs; he just hooks a clawed finger in your panties and tugs them to the side, eyes finding your face again as he spits on his fingers and slides two of them against your cunt.

You let out this breathy little sigh that’s so fucking innocent it goes straight to his dick. There’s a crease between your brows, and even in sleep, your hips shift slightly against his hand. Blitzø smirks, slipping his other hand into his briefs and taking hold of his cock. He strokes himself in time with his movements against your clit, a low groan of “shit…” slipping past his lips.

You’re getting so wet; even asleep you’re an eager little slut, and Blitzø moans quietly when he sucks the taste of you off his fingers. He’s tempted to go down on you, to slide his tongue into you and watch you wake up bucking like a fuckin’ rodeo horse the way you do when he really gets you going… and the way you unconsciously spread your legs further when he presses a finger into you and fucks you slow and deep with it… fuck, if he doesn’t get to fuck you like this and watch you squirm when he fills you with his cock…

Blitzø pumps his finger into your for a minute more before withdrawing it, moving it up to tease over your clit instead. You whine, soft and needy, and his smirk widens.

“That’s right, bitch.” he murmurs, his own breathing heavy. He moves to kneel between your legs, squeezing the base of his cock in his fist as he slides it up against your cunt. He lets the barbs that line the underside of it linger against your clit before he presses the head of it into you. His breath catches in a groan, and he watches the way you tense up, then relax. “Oh, fuuuuck…”

Blitzø grits his teeth to stop himself from being any louder, and he lets go of his cock so he can brace his hands against your inner thighs and slide himself to the base into you. His eyes roll back for a second as he fills you, warm and slick and tight.

It takes everything he has not to drive himself into you the way he always does, hard and rough and fucking intoxicating… instead he pulls back and slides back in slowly, exhaling a long, shuddering breath at the way you feel wrapped around him. Blitzø’s head falls forward, claws massaging into the flesh of your thighs as his grip tightens.

You’re breathing has quickened, your lips parted. He watches your chest rise and fall under the thin material of your shirt, your nipples pebbled and inviting. They’re basically taunting him, and he tugs the shirt down to bare your breast completely. He palms it eagerly, feels the nipple harden further under his touch, and he lowers his head to suck it greedily into his mouth.

You let out a sinful, breathy little moan as he rolls his tongue over your nipple and sucks, sharp points of his teeth grazing the soft, soft flesh. Blitzø echoes it, his mouth full and voice muffled, and he feels you arch up beneath him.

“Mmh…”

“So fuckin’ good,” Blitzø mutters into your chest, sliding a hand down your thigh and hooking it up over his hip. He bottoms out with every thrust, and Christ on a stick if that little catching breath you make every time won’t have a starring role in his spank bank. “Fuck, tits…”

“…Blitz?” you groan, eyelids flickering and brow furrowing as sleep falls away from you. He thrusts into you again and you moan, back arching. Your hands come up to clutch at his shoulders, nails biting into his skin. “Oh, fuck…”

Blitzø snickers, burying his face in your neck. His breath is hot on the side of your throat as he speaks, his voice half-cut with a moan of his own. “’Bout time you woke up.”

“Oh, shit, Blitz…” your eyes roll back, your mind clouded with sleep and arousal. You can feel yourself tighten, shudder, and you cry out with your orgasm as it overtakes you. You wrap an arm around his neck, holding him to you, and Blitz curses in your ear. “Holy shit…”

“That’s it, fuckin’ cum for me,” Blitzø growls, his teeth grazing the side of your throat. You turn your head, find his lips with yours, and kiss him. It’s rough and messy and grab at one of his horns blindly. Blitzø’s hips quicken against yours, and now that you’re awake you raise your hips to meet him. Blitzø moans, deep and guttural, and the sound of it settles in the pit of your stomach in a roiling ball of butterflies. “Fuckin’ Christ… gonna make me… gonna make me fuckin’ cum…”

Your head falls back against the pillows with a loud, broken groan of his name when his fingers find your clit again, your knees tightening on his hips. Blitzø takes hold of your wrists and pins them on either side of your head, fucking himself into you brutally. His hips snap into yours, and when you lean up and sink your teeth into his neck he falters, spilling himself deep inside you.

“Holy, fuckin’ fuck!”

Blitzø collapses against you, and you giggle into his shoulder as he comes down. His hips jerk as your pussy squeezes around him, each little, disjointed thrust into you making your breath catch. When his hands loosen on your wrists you reach up to smooth shaking fingers over the curve of his horn. The two of you moan as he finally slips out of you, and the imp makes a point of teasing his softening cock against your cum-slick clit for a moment before rolling off of you.

“That was… ow!” you break off when he slaps your thigh as he does and you jerk at the sudden sting, making him snigger. “Way to ruin the afterglow.”

“Like you don’t love gettin’ spanked, ya little slut,” he shoots back, making the point by rolling over and biting at the curve of your shoulder. He reaches up and pinches your nipple, and you whimper, smacking his hand away. He laughs again, louder this time. “Now shut up a minute, and I’ll be ready to go again.”

“You prick.”

You snort a disbelieving laugh, even as heat rises inside you. “So I can make an idiot of myself when it still doesn’t work and you can tell everybody about it?”

“What, you think I’m gonna brag if I can’t get ya off? The fuck d’you think that’ll do for my reputation.” He points out. “Look, you listen to me and either you finally get to fuck yourself properly or you’ve got bragging rights over the fact that I couldn’t get you there.”

You don’t answer, and Blitzø rolls his eyes. A teasing smirk touches his lips.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

“You’re an idiot.”

Blitzø grins, standing up and closing the distance between the two of you. He leans over you, bracing his hands on the arms of your chair. You flush at his proximity, and his smile widens. “Yeah, but you’re tempted, aren’t ya?”

You eye him suspiciously for a moment, notice the way his eyes flicker down to your lips for a moment. And maybe it’s the booze or that heat building in your belly that loosens your tongue before you can stop it.

“Fine.”

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“Okay…” you mumble awkwardly, cheeks aflame as you watch Blitzø shrug off his jacket and toss it to the floor. He’d dragged you into your bedroom and all but pushed you onto the bed. You were half-sitting, half-laying back against the pillows, your thighs pressed so tightly together they almost hurt. When you’d tried half-heartedly to object to him just letting himself into your room, the imp had waved you off with the excuse of making you more comfortable. “Now what?”

Blitzø clambers onto the bed, sitting at the foot of it with his legs crossed, hands resting on his knees like some kind of over-eager kindergartener.  “Now we rock your fuckin’ world.”

“Ugh,” you groan, letting your head fall back against the pillows. “I might have agreed to this, but it really isn’t going to work if you’re throwing out cheesy crap like that.”

Blitzø snickers.

“And you’re not sitting there,” you continue. “I feel like a science project.”

The imp rolls his eyes but acquiesces, and your face burns further as he crawls up the bed towards you. He moves slowly up your body, and you freeze as his face comes level with yours and he meets your eye. Blitzø smirks down at you, the expression twitching wider as you wet your lips nervously with the tip of your tongue. Then, he lets himself fall to the side, collapsing onto the pillows beside you. His shoulder brushes against yours.

“Better?”

You swallow nervously, clear your throat. “M-much.”

Blitzø rolls onto his side, leaning into you, and you shiver despite yourself when you feel the spade of his tail skim up the length of your leg. The tip of it lingers at the hem of your skirt, tickling at your thigh.  “Alright, tits. First thing ya wanna do is get yourself in the mood… and I’m bettin’ spending this quality time with me has got ya half-way there already.”

You snort derisively, some of the tension leaving you with the laugh.

“Hot,” he snarks, laughing when you shove him away. He returns to your side, trailing two fingers up over your stomach. “I said half-way. I’m bein’ realistic.”

“Ass.”

“That’s one idea,” he retorts. “But let’s keep it borin’ and vanilla this time, huh?”

“Ugh,” you groan distastefully, but your breath catches when you feel Blitzø ghost his fingers along the underside of your breast. “Blitz…”

He holds up his hands in surrender, rolling his eyes.

“Fine, I’ll behave. But you’re gonna wanna un-wad your panties from your ass and take ‘em off.” When you hesitate, he rolls his eyes again and points out, “I can’t see shit from this angle.”

You exhale a long, steadying breath, and before you can overthink it you lift your legs and slip your underwear down off you legs, kicking them to the floor. You clutch at the hem of your dress, holding it down over your thighs self-consciously. Blitzø wets his lips with the tip of his tongue.

“Alright, tits,” he says, his voice dropping lower. The cadence is surprisingly intimate, and you can feel his breath tickling at the side of your neck. “I’m guessin’ you’re not up for watching a porno with me, so let’s go for something else here…”

You gasp as you feel his lips brush against the side of your throat. They’re soft and warm, and a whimper slips past your lips as you feel the sharp points of his teeth graze over your skin. Some part of you tries to remind you that you should be pushing him away, but instead you close your eyes, sinking further into the pillows. Your thighs flex together, your fingers curling in the sheets beneath you as he continues to tease his lips and tongue over your neck. “Blitz…”

He chuckles into your flesh, his hand coming up to rest on your stomach. He takes hold of your hand with his other one, bringing it to his mouth. You blush deeply as he wraps his lips around two of your fingers, heat burning in the middle of your gut as he encircles it with his tongue. He releases you after a moment, your fingers slickened with his saliva. He skims his nose up to speak in your ear. “Go on, baby… are you wet?”

You swallow, a nervous furrow between your brows as you reach those fingers hesitantly between your thighs. You trace them up over your labia for a moment before you exhale a shaky breath and dip your fingers inside. You bite your lip, a soft moan escaping you as your fingers flick tentatively over your clit.

“Are you?” Blitzø asks again, and you nod hurriedly. The imp hums approvingly, his lips brushing over your throat again. His fingers flex, bunching in the fabric of your dress. It lifts the skirt of it an inch or so, the material whispering against your thighs and raising goosebumps over your flesh. “That’s my girl.”

“Ah…” you whine as you circle your clit slowly, indulging in the way his mouth feels on your skin, the sparks that light under your skin at your fingers on your clit. “Ah, fuck…”

“Told ya its fun,” Blitzø grins, nipping at the side of your throat. He dares to suck a mark into the sensitive flesh and you moan outright, the sound breathy and desperate. “Fuck, that’s a good sound.”

You roll your hips up into your hand instinctively, and Blitzø nods into your neck, his tail winding itself around your thigh. He uses it to tug your legs open wider, hooking your leg up over his.

“Keep goin’, baby,” Blitzø urges roughly, kissing your collarbone. He palms himself through his pants, squeezing the bulge needily. You whimper as he does, eyes following the movement greedily. “Slide your fingers in for me; I wanna see you fuck yourself.”

“Can… I-I want to see—see you too.” you admit shakily, voice catching in your throat as you press a finger into yourself. Blitzø groans, low in the back of his throat, at that, at odds with the smirk that blooms on his lips. There’s the sound of his zipper lowering and then he moans quietly as he wraps his fingers around his cock. Your eyes fix hungrily on the sight of it, heat rising in your cheeks and the back of your neck as you watch him stroke the hard length of it. “Shit…”

“That’s it, baby,” Blitzø grinds out as he watches you fuck yourself in the same rhythm he does. He thrusts up into his hand, his other hand coming down to clutch at your thigh. Your breathing is uneven, heavy, and the imp matches it, his lips parted, eyes half-lidded. “Can you fit another one?”

You nod, gasping at the stretch you feel with another finger. Blitzø groans as the sound of it, turning his head back into the side of your throat. You turn your head instinctively, and Blitzø presses his forehead against yours, his breath hot against your face. You hesitate there for a moment, grinding yourself up into your hand, before you break, tilting your face to his and catching his mouth with yours.

Blitzø moans into the kiss, a sound of surprise giving way to desire as your tongue meets his. He kisses you back hungrily, teeth grazing your bottom lip. Your breath catches against his mouth as you feel his hand between your legs, but instead of pushing him away you spread them wider. You can’t help it; you’re eager for more, and Blitzø’s fingers find your clit with ease.

You buck up into his touch, and the imp groans at the sight of it, quickening his attention to his cock. You keep fucking yourself, spurred on by the feeling of his caress of your clit and the way he curses in your ear, the way he brings his mouth back to yours desperately. He speaks between kisses, his lips meeting your neck, your cheek, the other side of your throat, and then your mouth, his tongue sliding against yours. “Fuck, tits, you’re doin’ so good… tell me how good it feels… tell me you love it…”

“I do; I love it,” you moan, thrilling at the way you can feel his fist brush against your thigh with every stroke of his cock. “I love it, I love it… fuck, Blitz…”

That heat keeps building inside you, the muscles of your legs tensing as you fuck yourself on your fingers, grinding up against his. Blitzø’s hips thrust into his fist, against your thigh, and when he sinks his teeth into the curve where your neck meets your shoulder you cum, soaking both your hand and his with excitement. Blitzø’s hand leaves your clit to coat his cock in your cum, and he pumps it in a few more quick, desperate strokes before he cums too, painting your inner thigh with his cum.

He groans headily as he does, pressing his forehead into your neck. “Christ on a stick…”

“I guess…” you pant, shuddering as your fingers brush over your clit as you withdraw them from your cunt. You fumble to pull your dress back down to a more respectable length. “I guess I can see the point of that.”

Blitzø laughs, smacking a hand against your thigh. “Fuckin’ a-right you can, you big slut. You loved it.”

You roll your eyes, wiping your hand on the sheets beside you. “You really can’t go five minutes without insulting me, can you?”

“Satan, you’re a prick,” you snipe back, even as you stroke his cock. He hisses approval when you squeeze the base of him, let your fingers linger near the barbs that line the underside of it. “What makes you think I don’t fake it for your benefit?”

Blitzø smirks, pulling up your skirt; he takes your ass in both hands and lifts you. You grab hold of his shoulders automatically in the hopes of balance, and a moan slips out of you unbidden when he slides his cock up against your cunt.

“That does,” he says smugly, and he snickers when you smack him on the arm in response. “Now, if ya done pretendin’ you’re not drippin’ wet over this, I’m gonna fuck ya now.”

“God, I hate you sometimes,” you eye-roll, but you still part your lips for the fingers he offers up to you.

“Yeah, yeah.”

 You suck his fingers obediently, curling your tongue around them and coating them in saliva. Blitzø growls quietly at the feeling of it, his smirk widening. He pulls them from your mouth with a quiet ‘pop’, and his mouth immediately finds yours again, meeting your tongue with his as he slips his fingers between your thighs and teases them over your cunt. Then he’s pressing his cock into you and you moan again, louder this time.

“Christ, you’re a noisy bitch,” Blitzø taunts, pointedly eliciting another groan from you with a roll of his hips into yours that pushes him deeper into your aching cunt. He curls a large hand over your mouth, surprising you by pressing a teasing kiss to the tip of your nose as he does. He curses, then laughs and jerks his hand away when you sink your teeth into his palm. “Ow! Fuck! You wanna get caught?”

“Maybe I just wanna see you try and spin it to make you not look like a total fucking pervert,” you say snidely, and Blitzø snorts a laugh. Your eyes catch the tack hanging on the wall and after a moment’s consideration, you turn your attention back to the imp with a knowing smirk. “Want me to shut up and make you harder than a fucking rock?”

Blitzø raises a brow. “That’s a fat fuckin’ check you’re tryin’ to—”

He breaks off into silence as you reach over and lift the bridle off the hook and dangling it in front of him. Blitzø swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing heavily in his throat as his eyes widen. Then he exhales, his voice shaking slightly. “Fuuuuck, you’re so fuckin’ hot.”

You laugh, your breath catching as he pulls out of you. He sets you on the floor, knocking your hands away from his shoulders and takes you by the hips. He turns you around and pushes you up against the wall roughly, pressing himself up against your back and fisting his hand in your hair. He kisses you, then your neck, sliding his hand between your legs as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder. You moan as he teases his fingers over your clit, gropes roughly at your chest before guiding you into bending over for him.

You brace your hands against the wall, and Blitz loops the reins over your head; the bridle won’t fit and he doesn’t bother trying to make it. Instead he lets it hang, and he groans low and long as you take the bit into your mouth. He tugs on the reins experimentally, and curses when it jerks your head back. In the same moment he presses himself into you again, and you moan around the bit as his cock stretches and fills you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck…” Blitzø shudders through it, a breathless laugh escaping him. “Christ on a stick…”

You moan as he pulls back and fucks into you again, taking up a rough, eager pace. His hips slam into yours, and he wraps the reins around his fist, keeping your neck arched back. The bit pulls at the corners of your mouth and you gag slightly at the feeling of it, drool collecting on your lip to drip down your chin.

Blitzø clutches at your hip, your ass, squeezing the flesh possessively. You’re choking on the sounds you’re making; the way your hands are braced on the stall wall the only thing stopping your face from meeting it. Your eyes roll back at the feeling of him filling you and Blitzø’s hands dig into your skin, marking it with his claws. There’s a desperation in his thrusts that makes it hard for you to think anything other than more, and you wind your tail around him in a wordless sign to not stop.

“So fuckin’ hot,” he grunts, reaching around to tease roughly at your clit. You jerk under the touch, the moan you give mangled by the bit and enough to make your drool drip to the straw-strewn floor beneath you. “Pretty little pony bitch, fuck you feel so fuckin’ good… Satan’s tits you’re… shiiiit…”

Blitzø’s fucking you so hard it almost hurts, and it feels so fucking good. Your claws dig into the wood of the wall, leaving obvious marks in the grain. You can hear voices outside; Millie and her sister… and the flash of fear at being caught twists into heat in your stomach. Blitzø doesn’t seem to care from the way he moans your name, announcing to anyone just how good you’re making him feel. He pinches your clit and you cum with a long, drawn-out sound somewhere between a moan and a whine, choking on the bit as your eyes roll back again.

Blitzø curses at the way you tighten around him, your cunt pulsing with each wave of your pleasure. He yanks on the reins, jerking you back to almost standing straight again, and he leans into you, still fucking himself deep into your cunt. Blitzø’s breath is hot on your neck, and he pulls the bit out of your mouth, bringing his mouth to yours before you can catch your breath.

He groans into your mouth, kissing you hungrily, desperately, and he fucks himself into you until he cums, pulling out to let his cum paint your thighs and ass. “Holy fuckin’ Christ…”

You exhale shakily, your thighs quivering and jerking under his touch. Your can feel they’re slick with cum, and you massage at your jaw to ease the ache the bit has left behind. “That’s one way of putting it…”

Blitzø snickers breathlessly, smacking your ass appraisingly. He leans against your back; his forehead presses into your shoulder. You feel his lips brush against it for a moment before he speaks. “You know… there’s a joke here about bein’ rode hard and put away wet… but we should probably get outta here before Mills and her hot sister get in here and see you with your panties ‘round your knees.”