#dispatch robert robertson

Without his hands to keep him balanced, he dives in deeper, switching between sucking on your sensitive nerves and going down to lick at all the slick that has run down your skin and stained the inside of you thighs. A part of him wants to complain because he loves getting to hold your legs open, to squeeze your thighs and maybe even leave behind the imprints of his fingers. Equally as much, he loves to let his hands wander, feeling up your stomach, reaching for your chest, giving everything the loving attention it deserves. What Robert loves most, though, is getting to slip his hands under your ass and squeezing it, lifting up your lower body so he can eat you out even deeper, to push his head closer and pull you up against his tongue. He knows the extra pressure makes you go crazy too.

With his hands bound he can do none of that. Still the part of his brain that does feel the need to complain is small and quickly silenced by the taste of you, especially once he finally licks down to the proper mess of slick and lube. There is no hesitance in the way he buries his tongue inside, and he purposefully shakes his head a little so that his nose nudges at your sensitive clit. It's a little more intense than usual too, given that gravity pulls him down with no hands to to steady him.

Robert knows he's indulging himself a little more than he is you right now, knows that you prefer him to play with your clit instead of having his tongue inside, but he can't help himself. It's your fault, really, for making him so needy, making him watch for so long. If it really bothered you, you'd be pulling at his hair and making him move, but you don't, so he will take whatever time he gets to lap up all that sweet slick and let your warmth squeeze around his tongue. He can feel how wet his chin is, how even his nose, his cheeks and the tips of his hair have been stained with your arousal and his saliva, because yeah, Robert eats messy like that, and he loves it too, wants to have the scent of it clinging to him. He loves knowing that you're enjoying him being desperate.

You pull on his hair, not hard, but hard enough to force his mouth off of you and he moans, half in delight because Robert enjoys the slight sting, and half in dissatisfaction because why would you do that?

He's panting again, and his eyes open to re-focus on your face.

Robert thinks you're beautiful any time of the day, every day, but with red cheeks and lips swollen and shiny from biting, he finds you extra pretty right now. He tries to dive back in once more, but your hold denies him the pleasure.

"Messy pup." You pant out. He looks a mess, eyes glassy and skin all sorts of shiny and wet - gorgeous, is what you'd say. "Don't cum before I do."

Had he been that close again? Is that why you pulled him off? He hadn't noticed it at all, too focused the treat in front of him. But now that you mention it, he realizes that his hips are still rutting forward into the mattress in tiny little thrust. He's been humping the bed without realizing, and from your point of view, you can see the way his precum has seeped through his boxers and started staining the mattress a little.

Your command has broken through the haze in his mind, at least enough for him to focus on what is actually important; making you cum. Robert had his fun, lots of it, but now it's time to get serious with it. That isn't to say he gets any less messy with his tongue, though. When you loosen your hold on his hair, he goes right back down, broadly swiping his tongue up your labia before sucking on your clit again. He alternates between that and using the tip of his tongue to press down and lick little circles into it. It's never too much, never painful, because Robert is an expert when it comes to eating you out. Trial and error gave him all the knowledge he needs on how to make you fall apart using that smart mouth of his. Not to mention the sounds you make let him know very well that he's doing good. Moans, gasps, heavy breaths, they're all perfect coming from you, especially if they include his name between them.

Despite his new mission, he still selfishly wants to drag this out a little longer, wants you more sensitive, dripping onto the sheets more than you're already doing, wants you to pull him so close he almost suffocates from it.

So he makes sure to move away whenever he hears you get louder, whenever he hears that change of pitch in your voice. It's not like he's stopping completely, no, he's just moving away to bite at your thighs or lick up any of the slick that has slid down again, still making you feel good but not giving you nearly enough to reach your peak.

It's absolutely maddening, because it's obvious to you too. Part of it is him being greedy and simply wanting more time between your legs, another part is him being a little teasing shit. That's something you'll probably never be able to train out of him. He will always remain a little brat at heart, but you wouldn't have it any other way, because his behavior gives you an excuse to play a little rough with him.

You pull on his hair with a groan, moving his head back up to your clit, while also squeezing your thighs around his head, squishing him right into the mess he has made. Robert's eyes roll back into his head with the filthiest moan yet, and his hips stutter against the mattress. Of course, you relax after a couple of moments, letting him take a breath of air. You wouldn't want him passing out from oxygen deprivation, even if Robert himself would end up declaring it as being more than worth it.

He takes one, two greedy breaths, before he's right back at it, this time for real; No more teasing, no more edging. He adjusts the way he's kneeling, feeling and immediately ignoring any stiffness or aches in his knees, so you know he's serious.

You lay back into the pillows and let yourself melt into the plush material, as Robert gives swiping little licks, gently pushing his tongue down for more pressure. He makes sure none if it is too hard on your clit, since you're already so very sensitive from all of his teasing, and he wants you to be comfortable. Orgasms from overstimulation and spiky pleasure can be nice, sure, but they have their time and place. Right now, he's focused on giving you the type of climax that is comfortable, that has your body relaxing into the pillows and letting go of any tension your muscles hold, not the type that has you shaking and tensing up from the intensity.

It makes him feel good too, to have you limp under him, just taking what he's giving, trusting that he'll give you exactly what you like. It's a bonus that you're also brushing through his hair and praising him between moans and sighs.

"Good pup", "Just like that", "Oh, Robert-!"

He could die a happy man like this, buried between your legs, your voice wrapping around him like silk, or, at the very least, he would not complain about it. You'd playfully smack him for thinking that, so he never voiced that particular thought out loud.

He's snapped out of his thoughts by the change in your moans, a little higher in tone now, the occasional whimper between them, and he knows you're close. This time, though, he doesn't move away. He keeps going just like that, not slowing down, not speeding up, just comfortably getting you to the edge and letting you cum. Your legs tense again, fingers tightening in his hair, and he groans into you at the feeling, trying not to be too loud so that he can hear you properly instead. It's always cute how your legs shake a little before your whole body slumps and melts back down into the mattress. Robert slows his pace appropriately, before moving to lick and suck at your thighs as you come down. He makes sure to kiss your skin, especially where he had bitten a little harder before, as an apology - not that you mind the marks.

Watching you blissed out and panting in the afterglow is something Robert could never get tired of either. It's another moment where he thinks you're even more beautiful than usual, skin glistening with sweat, not a single bit of worry on your mind, no stress trapped inside your body. If only he could keep you floating in pleasure and relaxation all the time.

You open your eyes at some point when your breath has evened out, looking down at him, still between your legs. The sight of him makes you smile and Robert's heart gives an especially hard little thump.

Pretty, pretty, pretty.

"You're so perfect, Robert." And oh, if that doesn't make him feel like jelly, weak and warm and so soft for you. As long as you think he's perfect, he needs to achieve nothing more in life. "You wanna cum now?"

Right, he hasn't yet, just like you asked him to. He thinks about it, almost deciding that he's pretty satisfied with how things are, but then one of your legs unhooks from over his shoulders and moves down to nudge at the still straining bulge in his boxers. He whimper softly, and his hips buck forward.

It only really takes a couple of weak thrusts against the mattress and another little nudge from you for him to start trembling, spilling right into the fabric of his boxers. The moment he's done, he sighs and his whole body slumps down against you, cheek laying on the crease where your leg meets your crotch. Robert closes his eyes and just breathes you in, taking the chance to enjoy his own afterglow while you pet his head affectionately.

At some point, your hands move from his hair to his face, caressing his cheeks, brushing over the stubble, coaxing his attention back to reality. He opens his eyes lazily.

"Hi, baby." You whisper. "I'm gonna sit up and untie you. Don't move." As if he could right now.

The bind comes off after a couple of intentional tugs, and you throw the sweatpants to the side and off the bed. Robert rolls his wrists and shoulders, though only a little because his body feels heavy, which makes you huff out a laugh and take over. You massage his wrists, press your thumbs into his palms, massage his fingers. Then you move up, bending his forearm and straightening it again to carefully stretch his elbow, before doing the same for his shoulders. Robert's grunts and small groans are the only proof of him still being awake.

When you're sure his arms are stretched enough, you reach back to adjust the pillows to also lay back down. Robert shuffles himself up to nuzzle into your stomach, arms wrapping around your waist. You don't bother offering him a pillow, knowing he'd say no. Instead, your hands find their way to his back, alternating between massaging his shoulders and brushing your fingertips up and down the scarred skin.