“Qui-i-ll…”
My heavy breathing gives way to heavy moans as he plays with my breasts. Then I shudder as he closes his mouth around my earlobe and tugs on it, before kissing me all down my spine, stopping right where my back meets my bottom. I wiggle it again at him suggestively, and this time he rewards me with two resounding smacks, one on each cheek. Then he spreads them to reveal the ring of muscle between them.
I’m not even embarrassed anymore at feeling his gaze on the most intimate part of me. And I’ve gotten used to the way his tongue drags all the way down my crack, swirling around my butthole, past my sensitive perineum, down to my already drenched folds.
“Mmmh, yes, Quill,” I murmur. “Lick my labia.”
Another loud smack, as I feel him chuckle behind me, and thenhe obeys, bringing his mouth to my pussy and flicking my clit with the tip of his tongue. Then he captures it in his mouth and sucks it, as he plunges two fingers into my pussy, while two more fingers invade my ass.
“Fuck yes, fuck,” I groan, grinding my hips back into him as he fingers both of my holes. His mouth keeps toying with my clit, sucking hard as I feel myself filled and stretched by his fingers. Goddamnit, it feels so good. I ride his hands, the pressure building fast, until the tingles concentrate in the core of my body, before exploding out into an orgasm that makes my toes curl.
“Oh my gosh,” I gasp.
He whips me around, his lips pressing against mine.
“Ew, Quill, I have morning breath.” I grow red, feeling his tongue invading my mouth, wondering how the hell his own breath always smells so nice.
“Yes, you do,” he agrees, his breath hot in my mouth, making no attempt to draw back. “You stink, cricket.”
“Quill!”
I try to wiggle away, but he pins me to him again, and rewards my escape with yet another tickle attack.
I’m panting hard, my morning breath all but forgotten as I feel his cock grow hard against my belly at my squirming.
“I like your stink,” he declares, lying down against me. “The more of you there is, the better.”
“So you’d like me even if I were overweight?” I ask.
“Uh huh.”
“What about… obese?”
“Mmh.”
“What if I were, like, in a car accident, and my face got all smashed up?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“What if I were a worm? Would you still like me, Quill, if I werea worm? Okay, okay! I’ll stop!” I shriek out the last words as I feel his hands hover threateningly against my sides again.
He goes back to kissing me, before turning his attention to my neck, and pressing his lips there. I moan, feeling all tingly.
“You know, Quill,” I murmur, “I’m glad we developed this weird kink together, and not another one.”
“Huh?” he mumbles, still concentrated on kissing me, working his way down to my breasts and capturing one of my nipples in my mouth.
“You know, tickling. Instead of like, peeing. I was kind of worried there for a second that golden showers were going to be a thing.”
He sighs, popping my nipple back out of his mouth. Then he pulls back up so he’s level with me, and kisses me on the mouth. “You know I love you, cricket. But you reallyneverstop talking.”
Then he heads back down to my nipples, flicking his tongue across them, before peppering kisses down my stomach.
But I’ve grown tense. I know he spoke in a lighthearted way. It wasn’t mean. And it doesn’t mean he doesn’t love me. Or want me. In fact, he wants my body a whole lot, and I guess talking isn’t exactly conducive to a proper fuck.
Yet the thoughtless words have brought back all the old insecurity, the pain. I’m still wet, and I don’t want him to realize what’s going on, because how the hell wouldn’t he lose his boner, if he noticed I was crying?
Still, I can’t quash the lump in my throat, or the tears bubbling up. Or my body, stilling, as my thoughts spiral.