#creoleeggin

You're sitting on Fraser's bed, back against the cool leather of the headboard. Your hand is between your knees, fingers in your boyfriend's brown curls, gently guiding him down.

Fraser's lips gently brush the soft flesh. He would pepper kisses but he's too nervous, too distracted by your soft pink core glistening in the light. It's the closest he's ever been to you and he loves it.

He kisses the crease of your thigh on one side then the other. His hands move out from where they're tucked underneath him cat-style. They knead your inner thighs, testing how he wants to do this.

Slowly, his tongue reaches out, flattening against your flesh and tasting your slick. The sweet taste floods his senses. He craves more.

Immediately, he pressed forwards. His nose grinds against your clit while his tongue burrows into your warm cunt.

“Aah, mmh,” Fraser hums. He laps at your flesh, eager to taste more. You're met with a rush of heat as his nose bullies against your clit, relentless in his pursuit of pleasure for the both of you.

You yelp as he hooks his arms underneath your thighs, flipping the both of you over so you're sitting on his face. You barely get a second to push yourself up before he attacks your core again. His tongue darts and scoops, jaw working with it to lure your soul out piece by piece.

"Oh, fuck," You gasp as his tongue hits that soft spongey spot inside of you. His nose is still grinding against your clit, causing the heat in your stomach to spread down your thighs and up into your ribs.

Fraser's lips smack and pop as he suffocates himself in you. The combination of his slurps and grunts drives you closer and closer to the edge of oblivion, your thighs squeezing around his head like you’re trying to crush a watermelon.

He pushes through the pressure and continues his attack on your cunt. He burrows the tip of his nose against your clit, makes his tongue dance inside of you, sucks. Hard.

Immediately, a black hole forms in your stomach. Your vision goes static as everything but Fraser and the feelings he’s causing disappear.

Fraser just groans and sucks you through your orgasm the best he can. He spells out his name with his tongue, pushing you through it second by second.

You sigh, thighs quivering as you flop to the side and off of Fraser. You can’t focus on anything, much less how much time has passed. The only signal any had at all is that there’s a wet wash cloth being wiped on the inside of your thighs.

Fraser kneels above you, one hand still keeping you split, the other washing off all the spit/slick mixture that’s accumulated in the past few minutes. He huffs out a laugh at your bliss ridden face.

“Hi baby,” He whispers, “Feeling okay?” You can only nod. “You need anything?” His question is met with a soft shake ‘no’.

He tosses the dirty rag into the hamper before tugging blankets over the both of you. The lamp clicks off and you can feel his steady breath against your back as he hugs you close.