#I can’t even explain what this little moment did to me 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😳🥵🥵🥵😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

[feralgodmothers]

“Bet she tastes perfect, doesn’t she?” He whispers, and his lips ghost over your skin just barely brushing your outer lips as you whimper, your hips lifting toward his mouth, and he tuts softly.

“Shh…easy now.” He says pressing a hand to your stomach.

Sacred Sanctuary

Label Mature 18+

Summary In the New Mexico desert, Vernon stays mobile to deliver his message, and when his online prophecies leave him erratic and restless, he seeks you to give him the solitude he craves.

❤️‍🔥Passionate Smut❤️‍🔥 Vernon eccentric • Vernon obsessed with you • mutual trust• protective partnership • Vernon talking you through it • edging •clit play • devout pussy worship • fingering overstimulation •squirting • praise kink • dry humping • dirty talk • deep penetration •reverent sex • multiple orgasms • cream pie • aftercare • emotional cuddling • cock warming 

Sacred Sanctuary

The camper is still, lit by the warm New Mexico sun and the soft glow of a single ring light on Vernon’s desk, the hush of the desert pressing in through the window beside the bed.

The space is neat, tight, a strange contrast to the chaos Vernon often brings into the world.

You hear him stand from his desk in the adjoining room, just finishing a live stream to his followers, speaking in that fevered rhythm about “evolving, imaginal spaces, and digital evolution.”

He’s possessed by it, with that strange, visionary kind of intensity, locked into the current of his own mind like nothing else exists.

Afterward, he’s always restless with a certain look in his eyes, wild, sharp, like he needs to come down from the complexities of his inner thoughts with solitude.

And as always… that solitude is you.

You slip out of your clothing without hesitation, practically grinning. Because outside of his public persona “the prophet, the poet, the cult-leader genius” Vernon is playful, soulful, and deeply intimate, a side of himself he keeps hidden from the world, a side  he reserves only for you.

He’s already pulling off his shirt as he steps toward the bed, his long brown hair falling in loose waves around his face.

His chest is tattooed in sweeping scripts and symbols, ink trailing down his abs, over his arms and even across the backs of his hands like an evoked prophet.

He kneels on the bed between your legs, shirtless, intentional, all his determination and focus now on a single obsession.

You.

His vivid blue eyes are locked between your thighs like that’s where his whole world is.

He doesn’t look up at you…he doesn’t even speak to you..

Instead… he speaks directly to her.

“There she is…” he praises, his voice low with affection vibrating his chest. “Been thinking about you all day.” He says eyes fixed between your legs like it’s salvation.

You laugh, breathless and warm, your head falling back onto the pillow. “Vernon, you’re making me jealous,” you say, grinning.

He smirks like he’s trying to stay composed, and he lowers himself closer, settling his palm on your hip giving a glimpse of the ink tattooed across the backs of his hands.  

You feel the slow drag of his long fingers as he spreads you gently, his pupils widening like he’s witnessing something sacred.

 “Look at her…” He sighs, deep and reverent. “all soft and puffy for me already.”

Your grin slips into a breathless sound, your thighs opening up for more as you surrender to his touch.

You watch as his fingers move gently through your folds, slowly, carefully, stroking with the backs of his fingers, tracing up your lips, and through the slick he’s already coaxing out of you.

“She missed me huh,” he says, his voice practically a breath as he stares at the arousal glistening between your legs, and you nod, your body already giving him the answer.

He draws two long fingers up between your folds again, and your body clenches at the hint of pressure.

“I’m gonna take real good care of you sweetheart,” he coos, talking to your pussy like it’s a lover all its own. “Real slow. Real gentle.”

He leans in his breath warm and steady against you, and his fingers stay low and slow, just stroking, teasing, worshipping.

His thumb pulls you open with reverence grounding himself in the scent of you.

“Bet she tastes perfect, doesn’t she?” He whispers, and his lips ghost over your skin just barely brushing your outer lips as you whimper, your hips lifting toward his mouth, and he tuts softly.

“Shh…easy now.” He says pressing a hand to your stomach. “I’m not done admiring her yet.”

You’re already throbbing, wanting to feel him everywhere, and he hasn’t even started yet.

He gets comfortable down on his stomach, elbows bent, chin hovering just inches away, and finally, finally, he parts you with his fingers and lets his tongue drag up the length of your folds in one slow, wet stroke.

You gasp head snapping back, legs twitching.

“Mmm I knew it…” he teases, his lips slick as he grins. “She misses me.”

He flicks his tongue in again, just the tip, tracing your slit, up to your clit, avoiding it intentionally, and you moan in frustration.

But it’s the good kind of frustration, the kind that builds deep and makes you ache with anticipation for him.

“You’re so patient,” he praises softly. “So sweet for me.”

He uses two fingers to spread you wider, and finally presses his mouth fully on you, his tongue flat and warm, licking in deep, rhythmic strokes, and your whole body jolts like it’s been plugged into an outlet.

You reach for the wall, for the window, for the sheets, anything to hold on to.

He looks up at you, his blue eyes soft with devotion, before they flutter closed, lost in the act of giving you pleasure, and you gasp sharply as his fingers slide in, two at once, long and slick, knuckle-deep in one smooth motion. 

He curls them in a come hither motion expertly inside of you, finding that spot that makes you tremble and pressing it in rhythmic passes as your moans break loud and unrecognizable.

“Oh my god—Vernon—”you cry out, your voice shaking, wrecked.

He hums, keeping his tongue soft and flat against your clit, suckling slowly in time with the motion of his fingers. 

Your breaths become heavier, desperate, every drag of his mouth, and every stroke of his tongue slow, sinful, relentless.

You feel the flood begin to rise, and your thighs tense and twitch as he watches it build, his lips slick and glistening, his fingers thrusting.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he whispers against you, his voice aching with need. “Give in to me. Let me have it.”

He watches as your orgasm hits hard and fast, your thighs shaking violently near his head as you come apart in a rush of wet heat.

“Vernon—fuck—” you moan, your voice breaking in pleasure.

He brings his fingers up to your clit, his other hand bracing your leg, keeping you open, keeping you locked in place. His mouth moves on you, his tongue thrusting deep, and your thighs twitch as your hips grind mercilessly, trying to escape how good it feels.

You’re gasping, thighs shaking violently, body squirming against the sheets as you suddenly squirt on his tongue, and he drinks it in like he’s thirsty.

He moans like it’s his reward, like he loves the taste of you, lapping you through it as your body shivers in overstimulation. 

His hands hold you open with care and unyielding strength as his tongue softens, his mouth turning into kisses. 

Your body finally starts to settle, chest heaving, limbs lost in the sheets, and he presses gentle kisses to your inner thigh before he rises. 

He grins as he wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand, then he sucks your wetness from his fingers, eyes fluttering closed like it’s his favorite taste on earth.

 “You look so radiant when you come” he says, his voice soft, proud, as if pleasing you is his greatest mission.

You cover your face with your hands, laughing breathlessly, still trembling from his touch. 

“Vernon, that was so intense I can’t even move,” you confess, your body weak and surrendered on the bed.

He pulls himself up beside you, tucking one arm under your neck, the other hand sliding down to cup between your legs gently holding you there protectively, possessively.

“Don’t move yet,” he soothes, kissing your temple. “Let me take care of her a little longer.”

His fingers are slow, reverent, just barely stroking, coaxing more wetness from your spent body as your breathing picks-up again.

His hard length grinds against your hip, slow and lazy, like he’s not even trying to hide it. Like he knows you’ll give yourself to him without hesitation.

His hand pulls away just long enough for him to lower his pants, and you feel the press of heated skin as the weight of his cock settles between your thighs, both of you sighing at the contact.

“You feel how much I want to give you,” he says, gliding the thick head of his cock back and forth along your folds, spreading your slick until he feels your body opening to him without resistance.

“Yes Vernon,” you breathe, you walls fluttering around nothing as thick the head pushes to your entrance. 

“Take me all the way in,” he whispers, his breaths shaky, and your walls welcome him inch by inch as he kisses your ear, placing his hand on your stomach to ground you both.

His hips press flush against you, as you moan together but he doesn’t move. He just holds you close, his chest pressed warm against your back, your walls throbbing gently around the thick weight of him.

His cock twitches, and when you clench around him instinctively holding him in, that’s when he begins to move.

His thrusts are slow, measured, each one hitting deep with precision, aligned right to the spot that makes your walls flutter uncontrollably.

“This where you need me?” he breathes, his voice low, steady, like he already knows the answer, and you gasp, nodding helplessly, struggling to form a single word.

He stays right there, locked in a perfect rhythm, grinding against you with every thrust, pushing deeper, harder, snapping into your wet heat.

You moan little sounds, your body rocking against his clenching with every thrust, reacting to the deep, consuming pleasure.

His breaths are heavy in your ear, his chest pressing rhythmically against your back, and your moans break into soft choked off cries as you walls begin to tightly flutter.

“You’re gonna come,” he whispers, his hand sliding between your thighs, stroking your clit gently at first, then faster until you’re moaning uncontrollably.

The sensation is too much, too perfect, and it sends you spiraling, your high-pitched wails echoing as your orgasm crashes through you.

Your walls flutter around him rapidly pulsing, your body arching, clenching, overwhelmed as your release tears through you hot and euphoric. You can feel every inch of him inside you, the thick length of his cock gliding along your walls, pulling more pleasure from you with every thrust.

His breath stutters in your ear, his hand still working your clit as you tremble violently in his arms.

“That’s it,” he groans, his voice breaking with reverence, his pace faltering as your body tightens around him. “Just like that… let me have it…let me feel you.” he rasps, barely coherent.

His words blur with the rhythm of your climax, and you soak him in heat as he holds you close, riding out every last twitch and flutter with you, lost in the worship of your body.

He starts to come, his hips jerking against you and he pulls you flush against him keeping you still as his cock pulses, filling you with warmth, his breaths and low groans sated against your ear. 

“You’re so perfect,” he whispers, soft, reverent as hand drifts to your stomach, splayed wide and protective as you both breathe through it.

You can feel him softening inside you, his come warm and slick, settling deep in your core as your walls pulse faintly around him.

He doesn’t pull out, instead he just hums his breaths slow and steadying.

You shift slightly, but his arm tightens around you, holding you in place.

“Mm-m,” he murmurs, his hand spreading firmly across your stomach. “Stay with me. I want to sleep with it in you.”

You peek back at him in surprise. “You’re really going to keep it in me…” you whisper in disbelief, and he just hums against your shoulder, nuzzling his face into your hair.

“Mmm, you’ll love it,” he breathes, his voice deep and certain, and he stays buried inside you, his hand resting on your stomach, completely satisfied as you warm his cock, like his secret sanctuary.

END 📿

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