#lipstickseries

It was troubling. 

His body felt on fire, and not even taking off his pants and sweater helped against the raging burning inside of him. 

You were in the kitchen. The runaway teenager that had come to his home the previous night had knocked on your bedroom door to ask you to come there, his neighbor's daughter was having one of her crises and she couldn't get her to stop crying. 

He couldn't believe his luck when it came to you, so unbelievably sweet, smart and capable, his anchor to sanity amongst that sea of madness. 

The spots where you'd kissed him before getting interrupted still tingled and burned from pleasure. Your scent was everywhere on the bed, he turned his head to your side of the pillow and sharply inhaled as his hand slowly went down to his boxers. 

His thumb lightly glided over the clothed slit, a hiss escaping him as the ache of wanting flared up, his wet spot growing by the second. 

Slowly exhaling, he gripped his erection firmly, savoring the feeling of the fabric's texture against the sensitive skin. 

Hips bucking, he slid down the boxers, now an obstacle to his pleasure. 

The raging boner he sported wasn't enough to make his dick fully lift itself, too heavy to manage that. 

He wrapped his hand around it and started to stroke it, imagining your voice  and hot breath against his ear, a reoccurring event during sex, one he always hoped would come up at some point. 

Just the memory of it had him shiver and curl his toes, cock throbbing like you were actually there, above him, like you always did when you wanted to truly milk him dry to the last drop.

He tried to pretend the hand tugging at his cock was yours, but the desperate way he stroked himself was too different from your usual sensual slowness, the illusion not fully forming.

His pinky applied pressure to the base, circling it as best as he could, whilst his index and thumb formed a tight ring around the sensitive tip, just like you did for him once you'd noticed he liked the combination of the two.

His body tensed and his hips rose again, beads of precum forming and slowly dripping from the top of his slit all the way down to the base, pearlescent cum that he would've wanted to stuff inside your mouth, instead of wasting it like that.

Groans turned into huffing as the pleasure was always just shy of the threshold of his orgasm, he needed you so badly it hurt.

He turned to the side, trying to chase some friction with the bedsheets, biting his lip to avoid moaning your name.

He felt so embarrassed, as if he was a teenager all over again, and you were the cause of his suffering. For years he hadn't felt the familiar ache of longing, but after you came along it became a constant background thought.

He needed you, he needed to grasp your hips as he rut into you, he needed to hear every sound that left your pretty lips as he pleasured you, mark every single inch of your soft skin and still, he would crave more and more.

Your name left his lips in a broken sound, his back arched as his eyes almost rolled to the back of his head.

And like that you found him, calling his name the first time with a hint of surprise in your voice, but he didn't, or perhaps couldn't, hear you.

The gentle cradling of his cheek almost made him jump, but as he put your face to focus he felt torn between embarrassingly try to explain himself or beg you for help.

Your lips met his neck and, just like his earlier fantasies, your familiar "Oh Dima...dear" was uttered by the shell of his ear.

His cock wept and throbbed, and as your hands slowly made their way across his torso, just like your praise to his brain, he finally came, hand over his mouth not to let out too loud of a moan.

His breath was heavy, and it hitched as your hand grabbed his wrist and started cleaning up the mess on his palm with your mouth.

The familiar sensation of your lips on his cock brought him out of his post-orgasm stupor, with it becoming painfully hard again.

"Now, I can't leave you with this, can I?"

He spread his legs to give you space as the electric sensation of you made his mind go blank.

He was in it for a wonderful night, wasn't he?

How long had it been going on for?

You wished you could've answered the question yourself, but in that moment, your ability to think was nowhere to be found, mind turned to mush between the pleasant soreness of your thighs, the relentless pounding taking place in between them and the rewarding display of your partner falling apart with you and in front of you.

The Visitor you let into your home weeks ago, an eternity in Cataclysm Standard Time, since hours seemed to turn into days, was the perfect companion you could've asked for.

Putting aside his more unsettling behaviors, such as his habit of stalking you, disposing gruesomely of anyone who posed a threat to your well-being ("Aren't I the best mate?" he'd proudly say, as you caught a glimpse of the mangled bodies just beyond your fence), and general clinginess, he was very much everything you could've asked for.

He was willing to give you his whole self in exchange for whatever you were willing to concede him, and if that hadn't been made clear when he finally got to bust down your door, every single action conveyed his utter devotion to you.

He willingly bent his body for you more than once and fulfilled every request thrown his way, and you rewarded him by letting him unwrap you fully and discover every single part of you, both inside and out.

You'd noticed his possessiveness during sex and how he tried to restrain himself to avoid possibly hurting you, but you also couldn't miss the kind of things that seemingly riled him up best, the words and phrases that had him twitch briefly before regaining composure, and that day you'd pushed all the buttons that you'd discovered in the prior weeks.

Your neck was numb from the amount of hickeys he'd planted on your skin, purple and red blossoming endlessly with his mouth latching onto the rarer and rarer untouched spots when he wasn't busy talking. His back was littered with marks from your lovely nails, each new scratch making his swollen cock throb and twitch with aching need inside your velvety walls.

He'd never ran out of breath so fast in that new form of his.

"I th-oh!-ught you had far better stamingh!" Luckily for you, he'd decided to be kind and instead of pointing out your hypocrisy in daring to comment on his stamina when you were beneath him, utterly ruined and splayed out like that for him, he just got to ploughing your cunt with more strength.

You half expected one of his usual sarcastic quips, but you were glad he was just as wordless as you, because you were sure you wouldn't have handled anymore payback, both physically and verbally.

The sound of your skin slapping together served as background for the cascade of moans, both yours and his, falling out of your lips, his whines as you clenched around his dick, as if to tease him further.

His lips found yours in a searing kiss, his parting to let your tongue in, nonverbally pleading you to claim him in this way, accepting him as yours and devoting yourself to him in return.

Your hands gripped the inky black hair to deepen the kiss, his hold on your hips loosening up as he bent over in a way that would've been painful for a normal human, only to be able to chase your lips.

Locking your legs around his thin hips, your hands soothingly stroked his scratched back as an apology whilst he happily nuzzled your face.

The typical interval between his moans was shortening by the second, you knew he was getting close, again.

He had already filled you, your walls welcoming the cold liquid eagerly, but that night was different. You had asked for it when you told him he could go raw.

"I'm g-oh-ing to fill you up until you've takengh! the last drop of my cum" his eyes were clearly unfocused, a sign that he was positively overwhelmed and out of it. "You'll look so so soooo good, all swollen a-ngh!-d round because of me, -hah- everyone will know that you're mine and only mine and that I am yours, that I devoted myself to you." He held you as close as he could to his torso, as his hips pounded your cunt and a frothy ring formed where your bodies linked.

No matter how much he tried, he couldn't get all of himself inside of you, his transformation having affected also that part of him.

"Look at yourself...heh" he lifted himself up a bit to let you watch too. "Even though you can't possibly take all of me inside, you're still greedily sucking me in. Only I can split you apart like this."

Your hands shot up to his neck and pulled him in for another fierce kiss, swallowing every sound coming out from either of you.

One hand was on your cheek and the other on your hip and at some point, you finally felt the tension building up in your abdomen snap, making your hips jerk up and clench around him spasmodically, his dick getting soaked by your fluids.

He tumbled over the edge as his cold cum spilled inside of you, his thrusts becoming erratic and frantic as he tried to feed the greedy walls that sucked him in.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he slowly pulled out, satisfied with his work. Your splayed out form sent the last weak rope of cum to his tip, as he readily came over your outer labia, just to mark you even further.

You both struggled to catch your breath and you felt his lips graze your cheek tenderly. He tried to adjust himself to better hug you and he slotted your head between his neck and shoulder. His tender, pale flesh still unmarked was tempting and your teeth grazed it.

You felt his body twitch at the unexpected contact and his dick threatening to swell up again.

"Dear...are you sure that you're ready to handle another round?"

Your mouth on his neck was enough of a response, the purring coming from his chest intensified as his shadow loomed over your body.

He teasingly dragged his tip over your soaked, swollen folds before smoothly entering again.

"If that's what my love wants, I'll be happy to provide, then."

Ah yes, he'd keep going forever if it meant satisfying you.

Your bedroom window was his favorite. 

The curtains were always parted in the evening, it didn't matter whether you were in the kitchen, by the door, waiting for guests or in the bedroom, he was almost always there to watch you and hear your splendid voice, but the bedroom window just had a clearer view of the room and its only occupant. 

Even with his heightened senses, your voice, his daily delight, had that distant quality that only a closed window could provide, making you sound like a not well remembered dream.

Especially that night.

He had juuust gotten off your porch after your usual chat and readily returned to the back of your house, longing to drink in a bit more of you before departing to fulfill his duties.

He didn't expect to stumble upon such a beautiful sight.

He knew what you were doing. His memory failed him countless times since he turned, a good portion of customs and life completely unaccessible to him, but sex...sex had been quick to relearn.

He'd noticed that humans, especially in high-stress environments, turned to carnal pleasure to distract themselves and satisfy their primal need for comfort.

He'd seen it all, people hurting each other, willingly or not, messy and downright filthy positions and acts, but also...a gentle tenderness, sometimes, between people who seemed to truly care about each other.

He didn't feel shame in his new form and so he relearned what was lost to Death.

He figured out that visitors, besides some exceptions, had seemingly lost every shred of sexual attraction they could've possibly held in life, but he also figured that the act in itself was enjoyable, at least, when he thought about you.

He needed to have you close in every single way possible, and since wearing your skin would limit any further interactions between you two, he found sex the closest vessel for his needs and feelings.

The soft panting his ears picked up was the most melodious music on the remains of Earth and he intently looked at the hand between your legs. 

He wanted to share this with you. 

He unzipped his stained, black pants, and his dick immediately sprung out, as any semblance of underwear had been deemed useless and uncomfortable. 

His hand clumsily wrapped around it, and started stroking it to the rhythm you set. 

Ah, that was the confirmation you were the one who revived the already faded embers of emotion inside of him.

Yes, when he'd tried self-pleasuring his body didn't shiver as much as it was in that moment, his chest didn't feel on fire, neither his "soul" felt that aching, gnawing need to merge itself with yours, it was being with you that made it a worthwile occupation.

His wrist picked up the pace as he listened intently to your heavy breaths, to the rustling of fabric, thrown over you in a feeble attempt at concealing the most marvelous show the world could offer him, finding himself panting too.

For a creature that prided itself with its "infinte" stamina, he ran out of breath quickly, not even two whole minutes in.

Oh, he'd make you pay for all those displays of weakness and do his best to leave you sore and as obsessed with him as he was with you.

His slender fingers quicky started forming a tight ring as his hand reached the base, the pressure on his veins almost making him choke on air and come right there and then.

He just needed that missing quid that could finally have him tumble over the edge, the faint scent of you barely in the air, his senses not allowing him to fully breathe you in, it was maddening, maddening, and to make it worse he heard you let out a soft moan before stopping moving your hand. 

He just wanted to share that moment with y-

You.

You saw him.

A hand flew over your mouth to cover an apparent smirk as you gave him a good once-over.

He was suddenly frozen, unashamed but also completely taken aback by surprise, especially when he noticed your line of sight towards his weeping dick.

He stared dumbfounded for a moment as you slowly set the blanket aside and angled your body to give him the full cinematic view of the mess you'd just made between your legs, spreading them open and sensually stroking yourself in front of him.

His breath hitched and his body reflexively bent as he finally came all over his hand and some stray grass blades.

Your muffled laugh reached his ears as he slowly bent to reach his pants, who had fallen to his ankles, zipped them up and made his way towards your bedroom window, a pleased grin stretching his face.

You watched him intently as he slowly lifted one of his cum-coated fingers to the glass.

He drew a familiar shape and then turned on his heels, chuckling, your equally surprised, disgusted and kinda touched expression fueling his satisfaction.

The pearlescent, wobbly heart on your window warmed yours, and you laughed to yourself as you got up and dressed, ready to go clean yourself up in the bathroom.

That thing was going to be a bitch to clean once dry but you soon found out you didn't really care. 

Not if it was from him.