#ftm copia

The touch of the hands that mapped out the expanse of your body was gentle. Reverent, almost, with the way his fingers caress your skin, tracing over each and every imperfection. Though there were never imperfections in Copia’s eyes, how could there be when you were the epitome of everything good in this world? Your body was the most holy temple he could imagine.

Hot breath tickles the inside of your thigh as he places adoring kisses against the tender flesh, tongue occasionally darting out to lick up the slick that glistens there from his hours of worship. Your fingers wind into his greying hair, giving a light tug in an attempt to guide his mouth to where you need him most. 

Copia chuckles against your thigh, giving a nip at the tender flesh near your core before suctioning to you there in a way that you knew would leave a mark for days to come. A gasp falls from your parted lips as you tighten your grip in his hair.

“Pl- Fuck- Please, C” You moan, giving a gentle roll of your hips up into nothing, desperate for friction. The man between your legs laughs breathlessly, moustache tickling your skin and fingers flexing against your thighs.

“Please what, caro?” He mumbles against your skin, eyes finally tearing away from the heat between your thighs that throbs at his words in order to look into yours.

The look of pure devotion Copia gives you pulls a whine from you, cunt clenching down around nothing, slick with arousal that soaks down your thighs and onto the bedsheets. The sight makes you chew on your bottom lip.

“I want to feel you, Cardi, please.” The words come out as a gentle sob. “I’m tired of teasing, I just want to make you feel good.”

“Oh, amore,” the man coos at your words, pressing a gentle peck to your cock- which twitches under the sweet touch of his lips. “You only needed to ask, you eh… You know I would do anything for you, don’t you? My sweet boy…” 

Reverential kisses trail from the apex of your thighs up to your chest as he shimmies his body up, stopping to kiss along the scars that stretch under either pec. You gasp when he’s teeth catch at one of your hardened nipples, grip in his hair tightening as you drag him up to finally meet your lips.

Copia moans wantonly into your mouth when you hook a leg over his hip, grinding your wetness up against his own. You can feel him mumble something into your mouth- likely something in Italian- as his hands drag up to grip your hips as he rolls down against you.

Your breath catches in your throat, and you’re bucking up against him to grind wet folds together for more of that delicious stimulation. The way his lips move against yours grows more desperate, as though Copia were trying to swallow you whole and devour your soul completely with each press of his lips, slide of his tongue, or nip of his teeth. 

One of your hands releases the firm grip from his hair, tracing down the features of his face so that you could cup his cheek in your hand as you broke your kiss, barely pulling away. The man whimpers at the loss of contact, swooping down so that he can rest his forehead against yours as he continues his relentless rutting.

“You feel so fucking perfect, baby,” you breathe against his mouth, a particularly high-pitched moan escaping you as you roll your hips in a way that allows his t-dick to rub against your sensitive hole.

It was no secret you were obsessed with his cock, the past thirty-or-so years of taking testosterone having performed wonders on that precious clit of his. It would make you jealous if he weren’t so fucking mouth-wateringly precious. There was nothing quite like having your face buried between those gorgeous thighs of his, lips wrapped tightly around him while he humped your face, coating the lower half of your face in delicious slick. 

There would be plenty of time to show him just how much you appreciated his cock later- now, it nudged against your weeping entrance- fat and slick with a combination of your mixed arousal. 

“Please, amore. Please let me put it inside,” the near-heavingly being you had the honour of calling your man pleaded against your lips. How could you ever deny him whenever he got needy like this? Despite being the head of a satanic church, he was nothing short of seraphic when in the throes of ecstasy like this in your arms. 

You’re taking his face in both of your hands, gently shushing him as you rub your thumbs over his cheekbones in a soothing gesture, eyes full of yearning as you whisper against his lips before catching his bottom lip between yours: “Go ahead, C.”

He lets out a high whine at that, grinding his hips against yours until you feel the tip of his cock catch your opening and slip in ever so slightly. You grip his shoulders, nails leaving scratches across his back as you press your heels into his ass, urging him deeper inside you.

A broken moan slips from Copia’s parted lips, t-dick pulsing inside you as he rocks his hips forward to chase that stimulation. His face falls to your neck, lavishing you in wet, open-mouthed kisses as his pace grows erratic and inconsistent. You card fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp as he pounds into you to the best of his abilities, your collective moans filling the room.

“Fuck, C, you’re gonna make me cum-“

The whimper that escapes Copia is sinful as his cock pulses in your cunt as you clamp down around him, walls fluttering as he continues to thrust himself into your warm heat while your slick coats him. With a final breathy moan, he gives one last rut of his hips, stuffing himself as deep inside you as he can as his own slick dribbles down his thighs.

“Cazzo, you feel so good, tesoro.”

You take comfort in the feeling of your chests heaving against one another as Copia collapses on top of you, face burrowing into your chest as he nuzzles into you. A little breathless giggle rumbles through you as you continue to brush your fingers through his sweat-slicked hair, giving a gentle kiss to his forehead with a whisper of “I love you, Copia.”

“I love you more, caro.”