#sucktember2022

It was a sight many men would try to kill him, to be in his place.

Hinata’s kneeling at his feet, her shirt and bra tossed to the side. Her beautiful bare tits, the heaviness he could almost imagine in his hand, bouncing as she sucked on his cock.

She took him deep, her mouth so hot and wet and her throat tight, squeezing on his length as it pushed down. It was so erotic when she moved forward, taking more inches, her lips almost touching at the base of his cock. Naruto’s vision of her body would be obscured by the crown of her head, a dainty scalp and thick tresses of midnight hair. And then Hinata would pull back, only the tip pursed in her small, greedy mouth, those lush curves displayed for him once more.

No, Naruto truly was blessed beyond several lifetimes with the way Hinata worshiped his cock. She was an expert, mouth, lips, and tongue working in a symphony to extract pleasure from him. Eager and thorough, with no regards for herself when she was between his legs, like his cock was her world.

Naruto shook his head in disbelief and laughed, his hand coming out to pet Hinata’s head.

His girlfriend’s eyes fluttered up to his face, those sweet lavender moons wide and glossy, tears from the uncomfortable stretch of her throat running down her porcelain cheeks. Naruto’s cock was halfway down her throat with her plush lips pursed around him. Hinata’s cheeks hollowed from the dutiful sucking pressure she applied, her hand on his balls, gently caressing and fondling him like she was coaxing them to make a big load for her.

She pulled back, the sounds of her throat so wet as his cock slipped out. Hinata still couldn’t stop herself from a quick, strong suckle on his tip, cleaning the mess of saliva and precum that coated it. She kept his foreskin pulled back and kissed the red tip of his cock before she started masturbating him with slow, certain strokes. Hinata looked up at him, the edge of her mouth sloppy with that mixture of precum and saliva. It dripped down her chin and droplets of it fell off, landing on her upper chest before sliding down into her cleavage.

Naruto laughed again, in awe.

“W-what is it, Naruto-kun? What’s so funny?”

“No, no, I was just thinkin’, y’know? I got you logging more hours between my legs than Kakashi-sensei’s got you out on missions.”

Naruto reached out for Hinata’s face, using his fingers to collect that foamy mess on Hinata’s chin before bringing them to her lips. She needed no coaching from him, her eyes locked on him as she took his fingers into her mouth. Her tongue swirling over the pads of his fingers, mouth suckling on them with the same thoroughness she’d give his cock.

Her hands still tugged on him like he was paying her at a minute-by-minute rate, her touch filled with devotion.

Naruto remembered the first few times Hinata gave him a blowjob. The clumsy way she handled him, his cock always slipping out of her mouth. How many times he had to warn her about being careful with her teeth.

And now she was better than a professional, his length and girth almost trivial to her. Her gagging and choking only a temporary pause before she kissed on the base of his cock, her nose nuzzling against his pubic hair.

“It’s my fault, huh? My fault you’ve got superpowers on your knees.”

Hinata’s eyes widened, the flush on her skin like rich wine. She threatened the knuckles of his fingers with her teeth and Naruto laughed as he pulled them out.

“…that’s way too mean, Naruto-kun,” she pouted, her eyes hardened in the closest approximation of a ‘glare’ that she could perform.

“Aww, don’t be mad my pretty little cocksucker. It’s a compliment.” Naruto gripped the base of his cock and pressed the tip against Hinata’s lips, running it across and leaving behind a trail of precum. When he nudged it again at the center, Hinata opened her mouth, letting Naruto slide his cock to the back of her mouth. “Now be a good girl for me ‘nd suck my cock ‘til I pump your stomach full of cum, yeah?”

Hinata hummed on his length, her hands resting on the back of his thighs. Naruto placed his on Hinata’s head, rolling his hips lightly as he began fucking Hinata’s throat.

It was a pleasure that was only comparable to Hinata’s cunt. Hot, tight and wet, the muscles of her throat hugging on his girth as he pushed in deep. His cock was completely polished with Hinata’s spit, thick and dripping down the curve of his cock until it ran down the inside of Naruto’s thighs. With Hinata’s head in his hands, she let him use her as he wanted, and Naruto fought off her gag reflex to have his cock buried to the root.

Hinata was by no means passive, even under Naruto’s control. Whenever he pulled back to the tip, saliva dripping off his length and onto Hinata’s chin and neck, she suckled on his cock like it was a popsicle. Her tongue digging underneath his foreskin until Naruto gripped the base and pulled it back, Hinata’s mouth attacking the sensitive glans.  

The pleasure was overwhelming. Hinata’s sloppy worship pulling heat down Naruto’s stomach, his thighs trembling as he fucked her mouth. Precum spilled from his tip like a flood and Hinata swallowed it down, her tongue swiping on him, coaxing him to make more for her.

But the sexiest part was the way Hinata kept her eyes locked on him, glazed over, drunk on his cock, on giving him pleasure — that’s what drove Naruto the wildest.

“Fuck,” Naruto moaned, pulling his sticky cock from the Hinata’s mouth, fighting against the greedy purse of her lips trying to keep sucking on him. Hinata whimpered when his cock popped out, tilting her head to try and take him back in. Naruto moved his hand to the back of her head, fisting her hair and tugging gently, keeping her from swallowing him.

“Nooo, Naruto-kun, why? You were so close…”

“I know, baby, you’re so fuckin’ good with your mouth. Dangerous,” Naruto chuckled, resting his length on Hinata’s face. It was unjust and depraved beyond all belief that he was allowed to do this; allowed to place his filthy spit-stained cock on Hinata’s gorgeous face, his hips rocking and it was like he was using her face to jerk off. His cock fucking over her cheeks and ther groove o fher nose — and instead of disgust, Hinata laid thankful kisses on the underside of his cock, purring as Naruto used her face to wipe his cock clean. “I wanted to enjoy ya, a lil’ bit longer is all.”

“You don’t have to worry,” Hinata said as Naruto pulled his foreskin back and rubbed his tip in circles on her cheek. “I’ll keep you in my mouth until you are hard again, Naruto-kun. As long as you want to use me…”

“What did I do to deserve you? Not even savin’ the planet was enough I swear.”

“You love me. That’s more than enough.”

Naruto was stunned for a moment, frozen, and Hinata took advantage. She placed her mouth on his tip, suckling as she started jerking the rest of his length with her small hands. Both stacked against each other and moving as one, kissing against the ring of her lips stretched around his cock when she stroked upwards. The tug of her hands down pulling his tip free from his foreskin, her tongue swiping over his frenulum and then lapping at his slit.

“Oh my fuckin’ God, ‘Nata!”

The pleasure was like a waterfall, rushing through his veins, his cock hot and throbbing as Hinata’s pursed mouth sucked on his tip until her cheeks were hollowed. Her hands worked his cock with a singular purpose; hands that were trained until they were more experienced than his own.

“G-gonna come, oh fuck, Hinata!”

Naruto’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, his hips twitching, breaking Hinata’s grip as he pushed forward and spilled load after thick load into her mouth. He heard the sounds of her swallowing before he made it back to the land of the living to watch her do it. Hinata hummed in contentment after one last gulp around his girth, her tongue running over his tip to make sure she didn’t miss anything.

Then, instead of releasing his cock from her lips, she kept sucking. It was soft, gentle, aware of how sensitive he was from coming, but the pressure was still overwhelming as it forced heat to blossom up the inside of Naruto’s thighs.

“Hinata…Hinata!” Naruto whined as he tried to pull out, only for his girlfriend to grab the back of his thighs, stopping him as she began throating his cock. Sloppy, messy, greedy, her tits bouncing as she bobbed back and forth, varying the amount of inches she took. Sometimes her nose brushing over his matted pubs and other times pulling back all the way to his tip, letting the mix of cum and saliva drip down his length.

He was smart enough to realise it was probably rooted in his parents not showing him physical affection as a child - no hugs goodbye, no forehead kiss goodnight, not even a damn high five for a job well done in school.

The only time his parents ever touched him was if he was being dragged somewhere didn’t want to go, their hands in a vice around his arm as he wailed and cried, like the spoiled brat they incessantly told him he was. His father sometimes resorted to physical punishments to prevent his weeping, regularly enough that Ransom quickly learned not to resist their demands, to simply go along with it if he were to avoid their punishment.

And with his compliance, went their last reason to touch him. Though, Ransom was thankful for that.

As he got older, Ransom’s aversion to physical affection born solely from innocent, non-sexual intentions only grew stronger.

Wherever he went he’d see couples interlocking hands, using any excuse to hold each other, sit in each other’s lap, mindlessly fiddle with the other's fingers, placing chaste kisses to foreheads, shoulders, hands.

Why would people want that? Why would you go out of your way to spend more time in connection with someone than you had to?

Ransom was by no means averse to some physical forms of intimacy - having a woman in his bed for the night who could wet his dick provided far greater pleasure than his own hand could. His body had figured that one out for himself.

But that was all about his own sexual release. It had nothing to do with romantic feelings, affection or comfort. Nor the satisfaction of his partner in those carnal activities. It was purely about himself.

How selfish.

Well, he was a Drysdale after all.

Nobody expected anything more of him.

And then he met you.

Your compassion for others were second to none, and even though Ransom had never done anything in his pampered and overindulgent life to deserve any sympathy, you showed him incomparable kindness nonetheless.

If Ransom wanted something, he got it. Friends and strangers alike never said no to him, not with the wealth and stature his family notably held. That same status was something you didn’t place importance on - you treated everyone the same regardless of their background or what material items they could offer you.

Most were too scared to call Ransom out for his bullshit, so he continued to toy the line to see what he could get away with - it was all a game to him, knowing his family money could buy him out of any real trouble he found himself in.

However, you were different. You told him off when he crossed the line. Held him to a higher standard than he held himself. For some strange reason, which Ransom couldn’t fathom, it seemed that you wanted him to be a better version of himself than the spoiled narcissist his parents had raised.

That intrigued Ransom. Mostly because society viewed him as purely the wealthy enabler who paid for everyone’s night out, but that’s where their attachment ended. He knew he was only tolerated because he funded lavish parties, supplied the alcohol and facilitated his so-called friends' drug habits - if it weren’t for that, he’d just be the dickhead nobody liked.

You had this endearingly inspiring quality about you which always made him feel like he could do anything, including improving himself to be more than just the pampered, pompous rich boy.

And he found that he wanted to. For you.

You would later tell him it was his courage and resolve to better himself that really made you fall for him. And though Ransom rarely felt shy, he was apprehensive to inform you that you were the reason he tried in the first place. Because that would mean admitting not only were you the only person on the face of the earth who actually gave a damn about him, but also the way he felt about you was developing into a deep fondness he was unable to control.

In most contexts Ransom was usually the person in charge, directing what needed to happen and when. Yet, when it came to his relationship with you, you were the one who instigated everything.

His lack of experience in affairs born of the heart rather than pure lust, made him feel like an insecure, inexperienced teenager. Yet you were always patient with him, which only resulted in his ever growing attachment to you deepening.

With a romantic relationship came expectations of chaste physical intimacy, and that perhaps more than anything scared Ransom. He couldn’t understand the reasoning behind wanting to be close to someone in that way, and with the deficiency of experiencing any physical touch his whole life, he was concerned he may never be able to provide that for you.

He felt comfortable enough to express this worry to you, and with the unparalleled empathy you possessed, you promised him to start off nice and slow.

You were both attending a book release for his grandfather when it happened for the first time. In tedious discussions with relatives who Ransom had completely forgotten how he was connected to, you inconspicuously reached over and interlocked your pinky with his.

That’s all it was. Just his smallest finger connected with yours. And yet he found himself never wanting to let go. That one minuscule act, that seemed at least outwardly to not affect you at all, had Ransom’s entire body paralysed.

You must have sensed his rigidity beside you. When you looked up at him, all wide eyed and believing you had done something wrong, moving to pull your hand away from his, he clamped his hold on your pinky even tighter.

Ransom wasn’t quite sure why he felt that if you were to let go his whole life would crumble before him. It seemed a drastic overreaction to a simple caress of fingers. But he felt that way deep in his chest nonetheless.

You must have been able to read his intent from the expression on his face - you were always good at doing that - because instead, you smiled up at him, scrunching your nose in the adorable, involuntary way he adored, and kept your finger joined with his for the rest of the party.

Ransom tried to not let the thought of innocently touching your hand consume him, but he failed miserably. He had previously only ever experienced repulsion at chaste touches, and yet he welcomed your touch so freely, only wanting to experience more of the warm sensation.

It wasn’t until two weeks later, while having Sunday family dinner at his parents house, that you chose to perform a similar action.

His mother was on a tirade about certain members of the family whom she didn’t approve of, something she ended up doing when she had one too many glasses of wine, when your name fell from her lips followed by the words ‘gold digger’.

Ransom’s hands were immediately clenched in fists, and rage boiled so fiercely within him that he wouldn’t be surprised to see steam billowing from his ears. He opened his mouth, ready to return the attack when it happened.

Your soft hand pried his fist open, nestling yourself between his fingers. You barely looked down at where you now connected with him, instead choosing to look deep into his eyes as if to say ‘she’s not worth it’.

He could feel his heart rate immediately start to slow down. The anger which had been ferociously bubbling in his chest now felt like barely a ripple.

All because you touched him.

Not sexually. Not in the sensual, teasing ways your hands would roam his body when you wanted him to fuck you.

No, not like that at all. You were simply holding his hand with no additional motivation. You were gaining nothing from this exchange, the act was solely for Ransom’s benefit. Interlocking your fingers with his and affectionately rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand, as if it were the most normal and natural thing you could do.

And that’s when it all finally clicked in Ransom’s brain.

The reason all those lovey dovey couples that annoyed him everywhere he went couldn’t get enough of holding each other - why they’d use any excuse to be connected with their person.

Comfort. Support. Security.

The people currently in the room with him had provided the opposite of that his entire life - they had only caused him anguish and loneliness. It was all he was used to, and yet with a gesture as simple as holding hands, he knew for a fact he had found that solace with you.

Linda across the table repeated his given name a couple of times in the scorchingly frustrated way only she could manage when directing conversation at the son she regretted having. However, Ransom was too caught up in his body’s reaction to your affectionate touch to give a shit about his mother at that moment.

The table went silent as Ransom finally stood and declared “eat shit, we’re leaving.”

Heads held high, you walked side by side out of the hostile house, Ransom not letting go of your hand until he opened the passenger side door of his car. As soon as he let go, a feverish tingle rushed up his arm which he suspected only your touch could soothe.

“Thank you.” Ransom breathed out. Somehow the air in his small car wasn’t as stuffy as it was inside his parents' giant house. Ransom couldn’t remember the last time he thanked someone, if ever. Yet the words felt right in his mouth when you were the one he was thanking.

“You’re welcome, Ran.” You returned, seemingly knowing exactly what he was thanking you for without him needing to say it aloud.

As if to make him fall even harder for you right then and there, you chose that moment to yet again join your hand with his, and place a kiss to his knuckles. A warm, fuzzy feeling erupted in Ransom’s chest, one he knew for certainty he had never felt before.

It concerned him for a moment that possibly he was having heart palpitations, or an anxiety attack. But perhaps what startled him the most was that this feeling was actually a surge of love and devotion to you.

He had never loved someone before.

But when he looked into your eyes, he was sure. He could see his whole life in front of him. He never thought finding someone who would put up with him for longer than a night would be on the cards for him, and yet here you were, sticking by him even when you knew the dark and ugly parts of him.

It was both exhilarating and terrifying that for the first time in his life, there was someone more important to him than himself. Someone he wanted to truly be better for.

“Let me thank you properly.”

Without thinking, or even really knowing how he managed it in his small car, he shifted you from the passenger seat onto his lap, pulling you into a bruising kiss.

Ransom felt an inherent need to pleasure you with his fingers, the same part of your body which you had used to provide comfort to him earlier. Pushing your skirt up over your thighs, his hand instinctively reached for the damp patch already forming on your panties.

“Please Ran, please. I need you.” God you sounded so desperate, and that only turned him on even more.

Ransom wasn’t about to deny what you wanted when you asked so politely. Pushing your panties aside, he coated the tips of his fingers in your slick before slipping his middle finger into you. He could tell at once it wasn’t enough by the way you wiggled your hips eagerly to increase friction.

“Such a needy girl aren’t you?” He asked before generously adding an extra finger, your grateful groan in appreciation making his dick twitch. “Look at you, my gorgeous little slut creaming on my fingers right outside my parent’s house where they could see us. You like that, don’t you?”

All you could do was nod when Ransom used his thumb to draw small circles over your clit while simultaneously scissoring his fingers inside you, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

Unlike with his previous sexual partners where all Ransom was concerned about was his own orgasm, being knuckle deep inside your pussy was about your pleasure.

Did the sight of you whimpering above him, feeling your soft walls fluttering around his fingers make him painfully hard? Absolutely.

But this wasn’t for him. This was all for you.

He continued to relentlessly thrust his fingers inside you, instinctively curling them to brush over the spongy spot that had your thighs quivering, relishing the moans and whines slipping from your lips right beside his ear.

“I love all those pretty little sounds you make.” Knowing he was responsible for every breathy gasp, every whimper trickling from your lips only fueled him to pump his fingers faster, to hear more of them.

As he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, Ransom could feel your grip on his shoulders tighten and your pussy squeezing his fingers gloriously.

“Shit, right there! Oh God, Ran, I’m gonna cum.” Your head fell to rest your forehead against Ransom’s shoulder, fingers tugging at his hair and though your eyes fluttered shut in pure ecstasy, he couldn’t take his eyes off how beautiful you looked.

“That’s my good girl. Let go baby, I got you.”

Your entire body shuddered as the wave of your orgasm overcame you, crying out an incoherent combination of curse words and his name as your gushing climax coated his hand and the front of his pants. Though, Ransom didn’t relent the pace of his pumping fingers until he was satisfied that you had fully come down the other side of your high.

The dazed smile you shot him once you managed to sit upright in his lap again mesmerised him. In that moment all he wanted to do was give you mind blowing orgasm after orgasm so he could continue to experience the heavenly sight of your writhing body and that bewitching, satisfied smile.

Ransom removed his fingers from you and brought them up to his mouth to taste the slick of your release, which was as sweet as he knew your soul to be. Lord, he could just drown in the taste of you - something he planned on doing once the location allowed for it.

“Let’s go back to your place, and I’ll return the favour.” You mumbled against his lips in a sloppy kiss before manoeuvring yourself back into the passenger's side seat.

The entire drive home Ransom covered your hand with his on the gear stick, his large fingers slotting between yours perfectly.

In his small car beside you, driving ever further away from his old family house, Ransom had never felt more at home. He intrinsically knew that he’d never find a safer place than his hand enclosed in yours.

And because of that, someday, he’d make sure you knew just how much he cherished you by giving you a ring to wear proudly on your finger.

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“Open.”

The word sends shivers down Steve’s spine, and he instantly offers his mouth to Bucky, tongue out and waiting. He moans as he feels the heavy weight of Bucky’s cock slap against his tongue.

Bucky exhales deeply, and Steve tries to be patient, he really does, but he’s been so hungry and Bucky is right there. He gets greedy and licks up the head of Bucky’s cock, his tongue dipping into the slit, and he groans victoriously as he comes away with the smallest bit of precome.

He yelps when Bucky roughly yanks his head back by the hair.

“I’m not in the mood today for you to misbehave,” Bucky growls, shifting as he finally takes his blood-splattered jacket off. He throws it on the ground beside Steve, followed by the torn t-shirt, leaning back against the couch with his glorious chest on display. “Do you understand?”

Steve pulls back just enough to nod obediently. Bucky’s had a rough mission, Steve knows that. Aside from the blood and miscellaneous flesh-looking bits stuck to him, there’s a scratch up his side that’s probably healing and Bucky has a deep scowl on. His muscles are taut with tension and his eyes are nearly murderous. Steve vows to fix that — he knows he’s the only one who can fix that, who can make Bucky’s body relax again and coax a smile back onto his face.

“Yes, sir.”

Bucky makes a content noise. “Good kitten, now come here.” Bucky slides his pants and briefs down further, letting Steve watch, and salivate, as he reveals his toned thighs — thighs that Steve wants to ride at any given time.

Steve returns back to his rightful place between Bucky’s legs, eyes pleading for the next command. He’s been waiting so long for Bucky to come home.

“I need to unwind,” Bucky tells him plainly, reaching for the remote.

Steve has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from whining, to keep from begging for Bucky’s attention.

He stays painfully still on his hands and knees as the sounds of the TV fill the room, eyes drawn to Bucky’s half-hard cock laying on his hip. He swallows his pooling saliva, heart hammering in his chest. Please, please, please —

“Give me your mouth.” Even though Bucky’s murmuring, quiet, it sends a shiver down his spine, the command heavy in the air.

He opens wide, chin on the couch between Bucky’s legs. The anticipation makes his eyes sparkle, wondering if Bucky will simply make Steve suck on his balls, or if he’ll immediately drive himself down Steve’s throat.

Bucky scoots forward an inch, feeding Steve his cock slowly, but surely.

Steve has to relax his throat, to take Bucky in even if he’s not actually hard yet – oh. Steve understands now. He lets Bucky all the way in, and seals his lips around the base, keeping still.

“Good boy,” Bucky coos, running his fingers through Steve’s hair.

Steve melts into the touch, eyes fluttering as his head begins to feel pleasantly light at the light praise. He loves being good for Bucky.

Bucky shifts from time to time, sometimes to get more comfortable on the couch, sometimes it’s a roll of his hips, but Steve stays put. The sound of the television drones in the background, and he has no idea how long he stays like that, his knees sore and his jaw aching, but he can feel Bucky’s cock beginning to fill. Steve feels like he’s doing his job, if he can feel Bucky growing inside his mouth.

Without warning, Bucky takes Steve’s head roughly in his hands, moving Steve up and down his hardened cock now. Steve can’t help the desperate groan as Bucky takes complete control over him, using his mouth like nothing more than a toy, even though he gags immediately.

Steve likes being taken by surprise, he never knows — and he never wants to know — what Bucky’s going to do next.

After he sputters at the initial push, he groans with every thrust of Bucky’s hot cock in his mouth, cheeks hollowing.

The hardest part is not touching. He mentally berates himself for not asking for permission before. Curling his hands into fists against the carpet, he takes the full onslaught of Bucky having his way with him.

He’s apparently not fast enough — not limp enough because Bucky huffs, fingers bruising against his neck before he stops altogether.

Steve whines before he can help it — no, please don’t stop —

It’s cut off abruptly by the loud crack of Bucky’s palm against his cheek. Steve knows he fucked up, because Bucky pulls out completely, and no matter how hard Steve sucks, he knows he won’t get Bucky back.

Not until Bucky says so. If Bucky says so.

He gets a backhand across the other cheek this time. “Don’t fucking whine at me.”

Steve gulps nervously, staring up at Bucky’s cold, hard eyes. He goes to apologize, but he doesn’t have permission to speak, so he bows his head instead, to show how sorry he is, hoping Bucky will have mercy on him.

Bucky sighs, like a parent fed up with their child. “Last chance, kitty. Don’t make me stop again.”

Steve nods enthusiastically, licking his lips, opening his mouth wide again as he looks up at shining eyes. He tries to convey how much he cherishes this second chance, how he won’t fuck it up.

Bucky spreads his legs again, and Steve’s breath shortens, eyes fixated on the considerable length, thick, flushed and shining with Steve’s very own spit.

He’s grabbed by the strands of his hair, Bucky’s other hand – his metal hand – wraps around Steve’s neck underneath. Steve’s eyes roll in the back of his head before Bucky even gets all the way down, welcoming the heavy, bitter warmth on his tongue again.

Bucky hits the back of his throat in one swift motion and Steve fights his body’s natural reaction to gag, his stomach tensing up, eyes watering. He doesn’t make a sound though, his face scrunching with the effort of keeping his mouth open for Bucky to use.

“You can take it,” Bucky reminds him. “So take it.”

He can, he knows that much, but not without considerable effort. Steve’s entire body clenches up at the command and despite the burning sensation in his abs and the spasm of his muscles, he lets Bucky guide him wherever necessary for his pleasure. It builds and builds, until Bucky’s fucking into Steve’s mouth with abandon.

“Fuck, yeah, that’s good, baby –”

Steve preens under the praise, humming happily around Bucky’s cock that’s ravaging his throat. He chokes when Bucky’s fingers flex under his jaw, the metal plates faintly clicking into place – a reminder of how dangerous it can be. How easily Bucky could cut off his airway like this – and how Steve would simply let him. He heaves again, desperate for air as he tries to suck in a deep breath through his nose, saliva making a downright mess down his chin and atop Bucky’s balls.

“I said take it,” Bucky growls, somehow managing to lodge himself further, and Steve nearly loses it. He can’t stop the muffled gag, the strangled gasp of air as Bucky’s fingers tighten even more. Lightheaded, pleasantly floating, he takes a deep breath through his nose while his throat convulses around Bucky’s dick.

“God, look at you, so fucking pretty when you cry,” Bucky moans as he goes to stand, getting even more leverage. His muscles flex with each slam of his hips, balls slapping against Steve’s dripping chin. “S’this all for me? Huh, pretty? Cryin’ ‘cause you’re chokin’ on my cock?”

Steve isn’t sure what the sound he makes can even be classified as, but it’s needy and high-pitched, and he wants to scream yes, yes, yes – but it’s cut off by Bucky’s massive length as he utters one more command.

“Swallow.”

Steve doubles his efforts, swallowing around Bucky like he’s trying suck it out of him. He knows Bucky likes the sensation of his throat closing in, constricting around him, so he pushes past any discomfort to do just that, trying to be the perfect vice grip.

He loves this part – where he’s barely got enough oxygen, and yet all he wants is more, more of Bucky’s come, of Bucky’s praise, of the beautiful look on Bucky’s face when he shoots down Steve’s throat. Steve greedily gulps it all down, even as it dribbles out of the corners of his mouth, swallowing everything Bucky gives him like it’s his last meal on earth.

Bucky groans, long and echoing in the room, and Steve blinks his eyes open, looking up at him. His vision is blurry with tears as he pants for air, but he swallows one last time and opens his mouth, tongue out, to show Bucky that he’s done good.

Bucky smirks down at Steve before his features soften for a moment, brushing a tear away. “Okay?”

Steve nods eagerly, and Bucky’s face morphs back into something sinister, his devilish tongue licking Steve’s tear off his thumb before giving Steve’s face a few gentle slaps. “Good boy. Now into bed, where I’m gonna ruin your tight little hole.”

When he pushed forward, pushed the tip of his finger into Obi-Wan’s mouth, he got a teasing nip and a flirty grin, Obi-Wan’s eyes sparkling and dark with lust. And Cody’d never been one to hesitate, not even in situations where he lacked a roadmap. 

So he…pushed in a little further, and Obi-Wan sucked, and a jolt went all the way down Cody’s spine, grounding out low in his stomach. He’d seen Obi-Wan’s mouth curl in a grin around his finger, and - shit - it had just felt right to see if he’d - he’d like another one in his mouth, too.

“I really like it when you do that,” Cody rasped, the admission slipping free as Obi-Wan slid his mouth down over both fingers. 

“Mm?” Obi-Wan hummed, looking up through his lashes as he sucked, the flat of his tongue pressed in a curl against the bottom of Cody’s fingers. His cheeks had gone pinkish; every time Obi-Wan slid his mouth back, Cody’s fingers looked so wet and shiny and, gods, Obi-Wan’s mouth was so hot and soft inside--

“Yeah,” Cody admitted, unable to look away from the sight. “It’s making,” he exhaled, because they’d agreed to take things slow when they started doing this, and he currently felt he was doing several hundred lightyears in a second, “my cock hard. I’m not sure - ah - entirely why.” 

Naruto kept himself tucked against Hinata’s luscious cunt for what felt like an eternity.

His mouth working on her like it was his life’s mission, something much grander than becoming the Hokage. The lips of his mouth teasing the lips of her cunt, pressing and pulling on them. He took turns between lapping over her cunt, his tongue dipping through her folds and then pressing his mouth tight against Hinata, his tongue stroking inside her.

He’d been enjoying his treat for so long that Hinata’s thighs were painted across with her arousal that gravity had pulled down from her dripping cunt. The taste and smell of her was so heady, invading his senses to the point Naruto felt like he could’ve drowned in it. As he kissed and sucked and tongued Hinata’s cunt, she coated the back of his throat with her slick each time he swallowed, until every breath of his belonged to her essence.

Naruto’s veins were singing with lust, with the need to be inside her, and yet the time he spent eating her out was nowhere near enough to satiate him.

He wanted his tongue to be stained forever by Hinata’s taste.

“Oh, Naruto-kun,” Hinata whined, her voice airy and soft and wet. Her fingers curled tight against his short hair, pulling on it with weak tugs that failed to budge him. “You c-can’t keep doing that. It’s too good, p-please, Naruto-kun. No more!”

Naruto ignored his girlfriend’s plea, his tongue like his weapon, inflicting pleasure on her as he kept it heavy on Hinata’s cunt. His jaw turned as he ran it up to her clit, the tip circling around it before he went back to tucking his mouth against Hinata. His nose pressed into her pubic bone, brushing over the damp hair there as he twirled his tongue inside of her. He wrote his name, a familiar pattern, inside of her over and over, knowing it would drive her crazy.

He finished each signature by moving up and taking her throbbing clit into his mouth. He gave Hinata small, sweet suckles that left her thighs weak and trembling against his cheeks. Despite her words, her plea for mercy, her body did the opposite and her hips bucked up, grinding her sopping wet cunt on his face. She kept it up until her hips were sore, Naruto taking over the slack with a bruising grip on her body, taking a reprieve to lick her thighs clean, allowing them to become saturated with her slick once more.

“Naruto-kun! Do you want to kill me, oh, my god, I-I can’t take anymore. Please don’t make me come anymore!”

Hinata started sobbing from the overstimulation. Naruto was well aware of how her cunt must have been aching from the amount of times he had already made her come — the evidence of it rolling down his tanned skin, from the inlet of his whisker-marks down to the edge of his jaw, some of it even settling on his neck.

Naruto paused his feast to press a soft, chaste kiss on Hinata’s clit. Naruto chuckling at the way the small action still made his girlfriend whimper. He rested his chin on the wet curls of her pubic mound, looking up at Hinata.

Her lavender eyes were like half moons, her lids nearly closed from a mix of exhaustion and lust, watching Naruto with a dark desire. Sweat clung to her skin and some of her fine hair was matted across her flushed cheeks. It made her seem unkempt, the complete opposite of the Hyuuga princess she was. Naruto had wrecked her in the best possible way; he had soiled her down to his level and she looked all the more gorgeous for it.

Her tits slopped from the movement of her heaving chest, trying to draw in every needed breath from the way Naruto made her pant, moan and scream.

She was a painting, a masterpiece, but, drinking in the sight of her, it was almost like a sickness overtook him. It was like the deep ignition of lust that coiled through his veins and made his cock leak over their bedsheets was a drug instead, controlling him, directing him to add a few more brushstrokes.

To turn Hinata into an even larger mess. To see those glossy eyes shed fat tears down those scorched cheeks. To watch Hinata try to escape his grasp, to avoid the pleasure and realize that she was stuck under his control, forced to come over and over on his tongue until his tastebuds only knew Hinata.

“Nah, I don’t think so, ‘Nata,” Naruto sighed, his breath tickling over the lips of Hinata’s swollen and slick cunt. She whimpered from that alone, wet eyes fluttering before focusing on him, enraptured by his words like he’d caught her in a genjutsu. “You’re gonna lie there like a good lil princess for me and take every. Last. Orgasm. I give you.”

A kaleidoscope of expressions crossed Hinata’s face, worry bleeding into defeat, crossing over into anticipation and finally settling on need — Hinata sniffling and spreading her thighs before giving him a small nod.

“Good girl,” Naruto purred, Hinata’s eyes tracking his tongue as he ran it over his slick-stained lips, cleaning them off before he turned them wet once more on her cunt.

Hinata moaned as his lips and tongue pressed over her with greed. His hands hooked around her thighs, fingers pressed into her ass and pushing her up against his mouth. A deep-seated hunger gnawed at his soul while he ate her out, like she was his final meal. That sweet slick glossing his lips and flooding his mouth, each swallow causing his cock to smear more precum against their bedsheets.

Hinata chanted his name, those tears streaking across her cheeks, lavender never leaving his blue as he watched her in the throes of pleasure. Naruto moved up, a pause as the only pressure applied was the way his lips latched onto her clit — and then he sucked.

It was something brutal and taking, selfish in the way his lips pursed and cheeks hollowed. His strong hands holding Hinata down so she couldn’t escape the pleasure he wrought upon her, far too much for her sensitive cunt and aching clit.

But he made her take it.