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mskoreodyssey · 2 years ago

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The Hero Titles - III - Archetypes

[@utopianparadoxist’s video]

As a quartet closest to the center with the most interrelated verb. It's easiest to describe prophets and magicians as two sides of a coin. Both are defined by their unique connection to magic. The art of using individual will to change reality in a way that would normally be impossible. They're also connected to the scientific process. As it describes the collection of true knowledge through the changing of variables.

As emissaries of their Aeon's divine will, prophets use their aspect as a source of knowledge. They're known for becoming experts and analysts. Often approached as consultants and sources of guidance. The speech of a Prophet is powerful, and the way they spell words will be often linked to their dialogue. Which is itself influenced by their aspect or the legacy of their prophecy. Their insight of the future and the rules governing reality allows them to issue prophecies, making these individuals effective guides. But they can also perform miracles, impacting reality directly through the sheer intensity of their thoughts. But both run the risk of becoming intemperate in their knowledge and arcane. Even alienating to the friends that should listen to them.

As sorcerers who wield their aspects great power, magicians use their aspect as a tool of change. Mighty beyond their kin, magicians transform reality and are altered by their aspect in kind. They're often looked to as leaders and sources of direction. Knowing best how to flow with reality and respond to change as it comes. Their speech is often marked by the way they spell words, as the locutions to a wizard's spell is always linked to the magic being cast. Successful wizards learn to take control of their immense power and use it for themselves. Witches will rest that power from their familiar. A living source of their aspect that both AIDS and controls them. Heirs must take responsibility for their magic inheritance or risk letting it consume them, and both risk turning to dark magic that worsens the world. Evil sorcery is practiced whenever we diminish ourselves or other people. Changing individuals into unhappier, more unfulfilled versions of themselves.

Whether they take the form of Robin Hood, pirates or cyberpunks. Outlaws are rebels who stand outside society's rules and prefer to live by the law of the land and their own personal values. Since their only community is the one which they make themselves. More solitary thieves tend to pick their friends carefully, only trusting those they consider equals. This tends to make them high-impact solo players, but they can sometimes go AWOL and take action with no regard for their group's feelings. If they think they know what's best. More group-oriented rogues tend to be friendlier to everyone, but are also intensely devoted to those who win their hearts. Sometimes to an unhealthy degree. Outlaws are skilled at stealing their aspect from reality and using it as a versatile tool. Thieves will use this ability to amass power and options for themselves. While rogues will spread their wishes like gifts to empower those around them.

Whether we're talking about warriors or butlers, servants are those who serve and protect. They stand defending the front lines of society or helping whether it requires structure. Acting as Guardians and assistance as duty calls. Feeling beholden to the expectations of society, servants often adopt some version of a Warrior's Code of Honor. Which factors into the persona they strive to project. Group-focused Knights try to make themselves seem reliable and dependable. Getting others to trust them to know what to do and how to help. Solitary Pages tend to use their personas to try to escape accountability. Convincing others to let them indulge whatever fantasies interest them. Because of their early reliance on others and self-serving nature, pages have the longest path of any class to reaching their true power. However, once they reach it, their vast reserves of untapped potential make them second to none.

Powerful warriors, both Knights and Pages shine at using their aspect as a weapon with. Which to serve their enemies as a weapon with which to provide their enemies devastating defeats. Whether it's in combat or conversation. Knights are devoted to serving their friends. Between either direct service or by making gifts out of or through their aspect. With which to empower them further. A Page's innocent and kind-hearted nature tends to inspire in others the desire to be helpful to them in turn. Like thieves, they'll collect both their aspect, the tools and allies that grants them to further empower themselves. However, both should be careful that they don't confuse their personas with their own inner selves. Or use them to deny their feelings and those of others.

Royals are those concerned with aristocracy and nobility. They're intensely concerned with the great figures who shape society. As such, share a focus on birth-rights and legacy. Their passion for society makes them intensely devoted to the causes they choose and the people they love. Never one to shy away from a challenge, the Royal will take on any fight so long as the cause is righteous in their eyes. These individuals are judges and revolutionaries. Tearing down what's old and stagnant to allow for the flourishing of the new. They're formidable attackers, but also effective de-buffers. As they remove their aspect from reality or wear down the enemy through its use. However, their reverence for high-class court society can make them judgmental and arrogant. Their greatest challenge is resisting the ego that would convince them they're above others.

Fairies are a kind of elemental, a being who is made of magic. Their identities are crafted by the weight of their own aspect above all else. Being so connected to their own inner-nature, insulates them from the society around them. Prone to meddling and mischief, fairies make a mark all their own, and the world can only stand by and watch. This tends to give them an ethereal quality that makes them stand out. They're healers and improvers, bringing into existence what wasn't there before. Though they can fight perfectly well on their own terms, they can also grant powerful buffs. As they add their aspect to reality or build up others through its use.

However, being so defined by their own inner worlds makes the fairies' greatest challenge handling their own extreme tempers. Depending on whether they're in a good or bad mood, they can evoke either of the two fairy courts.

Happy fairies evoke the court of the seelie, seeming lucky or blessed. The sorrows of the world never touch them for long. A truly hurt fairy can evoke the unseelie, seeming inherently unhappy and prone to misfortune. They can be unpredictably violent and intensely vindictive.

#hs stuff #hs #hs archetypes #hs audio #optimisticduelist #homestuck #hs class

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c0wboylikeharry · 1 month ago

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BATHING SUIT SHOPPING (h.s)

(masterlist) || (taglist) || (requests)

harry styles x fem!reader

summary: after your luggage gets lost on vacation, harry agrees to take you out shopping to replace what was lost. but after you put on a little show, bathing suit shopping takes a different direction.

word count: 6.3k

cw: smut, dirty talk, penetration, oral, unprotected sex, spanking, exhibitionism

a/n: this is literally pure smut with a small backstory for context. enjoy!!

𐔌 ﹒ ⋆ ꩜ ⋆ 𓂃 ₊ ⊹

I’m going to strangle the person responsible for losing your luggage. The loss has threatened to ruin our vacation in Rome nearly five times—we’ve been here a total of 24 hours. They told us it’d take a few hours to locate the bag, and when they did, we found out it was heading to the US. Literally the furthest place it could’ve gone. But, hey, at least they tracked it down. Managing to get it back on a plane to us, you won’t have it until late this evening or tomorrow morning. But that just won’t do with you. Oh, no.

After your 5th breakdown, I had to come up with any kind of solution. Something to get you to take a breath and realize that this isn’t the end of the world. I’d already offered up the clothes off my back, but you grumpily refused. There was only one option left.

A shopping spree.

Only when those words left my lips did your whole attitude change. It’s not like you need to go out and buy a whole new wardrobe and makeup routine, your bag will be here soon, but you’ll take this opportunity to do just that. And my wallet is already cursing me out for it.

Walking down the small beach town, hand in hand, you’re practically skipping across the cobblestone. Shops litter the streets ranging from ice cream to jewelry and everything in between. I’m just glad you skipped right past that last designer store.

Wearing one of my old t-shirts and the sweatpants you wore on the flight yesterday, you look completely out of place. Adorable, yes, but also getting weird looks from locals dressed in their swimsuits and summer wear. You could care less, though, not even noticing their sideways glances as you drag me through the streets. And your careless nature is infectious, bringing a reluctant smile to my face when I’m supposed to be angry for agreeing to this.

Today was supposed to be a beach day, spent lounging on the sand and soaking up the warm sun. It wasn’t supposed to be spent wracking up credit card debt. I don’t even accept my fate until your skipping halts and you yank me into a store. It’s a small business with the smell of sand and sunscreen wafting in the air. With a mix of products in here, from tacky souvenirs to home decor pieces, I can’t seem to place why this is the store you chose. I mean, sure, there’s some clothes littered on sparse racks, but it’s not like the usual clothing stores we passed on the way. Doubting we’ll find anything of substance in here, you continue dragging me through the store until I’m proven wrong.

A wall full of bathing suits staring back at me. Men and womens, though bikinis are clearly favored here. So many different colors, patterns and sizes all thrown together in a dizzying mess. And you’ve already thrown yourself into the belly of the beast, scouring through the masses to find ones you like. In the matter of a minute, your hands are already full.

“Can you hold this for me, babe?” you ask at the same time as you drop the pile into my hands. And now my hands are full.

Searching through the bunch, I pull out what I assume to be is a string of floss. It’s thin enough to be just that. But, no, this is a bathing suit… Oh, Jesus.

“Sweetheart, you can’t be serious with some of these?” I speak up, dangling the dental floss bathing suit between my fingertips.

“What? It’s cute!”

You dutifully ignore my pained protests as you continue to toss more and more sets into my hands. Soon enough, I’ll be buried beneath them. Following you around like a puppy dog, finally—fucking finally—we leave the bathing suit section. But you only allow me to believe that we’re leaving for a fraction of a second. That hope is crushed when you steer us to the right—to the dressing rooms.

Great.

Now I’ll have to sit here for hours as you try on the mountain of stuff you picked out. This is definitely not how I wanted to spend our first 24 hours on vacation.

Plopping down on the uncomfortable wooden bench they have outside the curtained off rooms, I try to come to peace with my current situation. It’s hard. You seem quite pleased with yourself, though. Joyfully scooping up the hoard of things in my arms and walking your happy ass into the small room. I only allow the annoyed groan to leave my lips once the curtain closes behind you.

I pull out my phone to mindlessly scroll as I wait, hoping it’ll make the time go faster and help my brain forget about the back pain that’s sure to come. But I don’t get two scrolls in before the curtain is swinging open again.

Eyes glancing up, I immediately have to clear my throat at the sight. You’re standing there in nothing but one of the two piece bathing suits you picked out. It’s pink and white gingham with a tiny as hell top and scandalous matching micro shorts that leave absolutely nothing to imagination. You don’t even notice me staring with the way you’re too focused on adjusting the material in the far off mirror. If anything, it just gives me more time to lazily drag my eyes up your dangerously long legs, over the curve of your ass, and the swell of your beasts in that revealing top. Damn.

“What do you think?” You turn toward me, hands on your hips, clueless to my burning gaze from a few seconds ago.

“It’s nice,” I choke out, my eyes dropping down to thinly covered tits.

“You don’t think it’s too ‘cute’?” you ask that like it’s a bad thing.

“I don’t know what that even means, sweetheart. You look good, that’s all.”

You sigh like I’ve said the wrong thing and disappear back into the dressing room. Rolling my eyes at your attitude, I try to settle in on my uncomfortable seat as I listen to the sounds of rustling material from behind the curtain. Bouncing my leg seems to be the only thing that can keep me from going crazy out here. That is, until you drag open the makeshift door again.

This time, my groan stems from anything but annoyance. Now wearing a skimpy little bikini, littered with black and white polka dots, I’m surprised my jaw hasn’t dislocated and hit the floor. And when you turn—Jesus, when you turn—your whole, glorious ass is on display. It has me, literally, jumping out of my seat. Latching myself behind you, my hands grip your hips and use myself as a shield from anyone else seeing you like this.

“Jesus, baby, are you trying to kill me?” I practically growl the words, feeling your soft skin beneath my rough fingertips.

“Do you like this one?” you ask, acting innocent.

“Do I like it?” I pull away just just enough to land a good slap to one of your ass cheeks, watching the skin recoil. I physically have to swallow down a moan from the sight. Pulling you back against me, I squeeze the skin I just spanked. “I like it so much that I’m thinking about taking it off of you right now,” I drop my voice to a whisper so only you can hear.

“Harry!” you whine, digging your elbow into my ribs. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I!” I argue back. Grabbing your hips again, I align mine up against your ass, letting you feel just how much I truly do like this. “See?”

You scoff and pull away from my embrace. “You’re impossible.”

And then you just leave me hanging, sitting at half-mast in my pants, all alone in this shop while you change again. I sit back down and try to think of some not-so-sexy things to calm myself down. It’s uncomfortable enough sitting on this bench with no back support, but doing it half-hard is making it worse. Suddenly, I’m very eager to sit here and wait to see what you come out dressed in next. My knee still bounces, but for a whole different reason.

But you’re taking longer than usual. The sound of you changing has stopped, so I know you’re wearing a new suit, but you haven’t come out to show me. That almost angers me. I kind of liked this little fashion show we had going on. Well, more than liked it, clearly. Maybe that’s what’s keeping you closed up inside?

That just won’t do.

I stand up quickly, too on edge to care about how the bench skids against the floor from my abrupt movement. Making my way to the curtain you’re hiding behind, my heart speeds up as if it knows what lies behind it. As my hands slowly drag it open, I hold my breath, but it doesn’t last long. Expelling the hot air in one quick huff when I see you standing there.

Now this one has to be the best—or the worst, whatever way you’re looking at it. A tiny little thing, barely even there, showing off that body you know I fold for. Covered in scraps of leopard print like you know exactly what you’re doing. It’s torture even being just a few feet away.

“Are you trying to make me lose my mind?” I make my presence known, even though you probably already felt my eyes devouring you.

I’m quick to shut the curtain behind myself, blocking out anyone who dares to peek at you like this. Giving us some much needed privacy.

“Harry, what are you doing? I’m trying to change in here,” your voice sounds exasperated, like you’re tired of my antics. Like you’re not purposefully putting on this little show to rile me up.

I ignore your words and let my hands jet out to grip your waist, pulling you back against me. Just feeling your ass brush the front of my swim trunks has me hissing. “I’m just enjoying the view.”

My hands are frenzied against your skin, smoothing up and down your sides like they can’t get enough. And it’s true, I can’t. I never have been able to, and I still can’t today. You’re addicting.

I lean down toward your ear, watching you watch me through the dirty mirror.

“Now take it off,” I whisper, “slowly.”

“What? Harry, no—“

“Fine… You don’t want to listen?” I slide my hands up your ribcage, eyes locked on yours through the reflection. “I’ll do it for you then.”

In the blink of an eye, I’m cupping your breasts in my hands, feeling their weight in my palms like a reward. Squeezing, I feel you shiver against me, already giving into temptation. My eyes drift to watch my work, tweaking your pebbled nipples through the fabric of your bikini top. “God, your tits are fucking perfect,” I whisper my groan, not needing anyone else to hear what’s happening.

I grope and tease you some more before slowly pulling the top down, the fact that it’s strapless makes it easier. Your breasts come spilling out of the material like they’ve been eager to be free. I can feel your breathing turn shallow when my hands reach for your bare skin, and a shaky sigh leaves your lips when I squeeze your breasts possessively. I have you just where I want you.

My mouth finds your neck, pressing slow and sensual kisses to the skin. Licking and nipping as I continue to tease your nipples, marking you in every way as mine. One hand leaves your breasts, trailing down your body tantalizingly slowly. You’re practically panting now, right beside my ear. It only spurs me on. Reaching down between your legs, I cup your pussy, feeling the heat and wetness through the material.

“Looks like you have to get this one, sweetheart. You’ve made a mess in it already,” I tease, growling into your ear before taking your lobe into my mouth.

Your hips buck against my hand as a desperate whimper leaves your lips—the sound goes straight to my cock. I mimic your movements, thrusting my hips up against your ass, unable to stop the groan from leaving my lips. Leaving the warmth of your clothed center, and the weight of your breasts, I grip your hips in my hands again. Slamming you back against my front a few times, I watch in a daze, but I can’t get lost in it just yet. Instead, I push on your lower back, forcing you to bend at the hip and reach out to stabilize yourself with the glass. Just the sight of you bent like this, ready for me to do whatever I want with your body, could have me finishing in seconds. But for now, I sink to my knees behind you, holding your gaze through the mirror.

With a perfect view of your ass and covered cunt, right in my face, I’m a happy man. Leaning forward, I place two gentle kisses to each of your ass cheeks and then a few to the insides of your spread legs. All open and ready for me. Working my way up, my nose nudges your cunt, making you gasp and me smile. Your back arches, pushing yourself further toward my face, and my smirk deepens.

In one swift motion, my tongue darts out and licks a strip over your covered folds, front to back. Your unrestrained whine has me pulling back.

“You’ve gotta stay quiet for me, baby,” I warn, hands sliding up and down your calves.

I watch you through the reflection, nodding eagerly to my request as your hips move in a way that begs for more. Who am I to deny you?

I settle back in between your legs, reaching for the scrap of material you call a bathing suit, and pulling it to the side to expose you to the cool air. Forcefully biting back a groan, I focus in on your dripping folds, like they’re the bright light calling me home. With my free hand, I pull your lips apart, and I blow a cold breath against your throbbing cunt. Watching your entrance clench around nothing nearly sends me to an early grave.

I bring my mouth forward, my flat tongue swiping over your slit with no warning. You gasp against the mirror, and I have no doubt those dangerous lips of yours are now pressed up against the glass. Moaning again when I take another taste into my greedy mouth. A high pitched, needy little mewl that has all the blood in my body rushing south. Shivers wrack through your body when I circle my tongue around your clit, feeling it throb. My lips wrap around the bud and suck, just how you like it. Working you with a death grip on your hips to keep you stable.

The taste of you on my tongue has me feeling a lot less patient than I intended to be. I’m not sure how much more teasing I can give before I lose total control. My grip tightens as I pull you down closer onto my face, nose burying into your cunt as I lap and suck on your clit. I’m trying to get as close as possible, but nothing ever is with you. I’m not satisfied with just a little taste, I need more. More of you. I want everything. Having been craving you since we walked into this godforsaken store.

I pull back for a quick breath, muttering, “Fuck, you taste like a dream,” before diving back in for more.

My mouth is demanding against you, working your sensitive skin skillfully to make you feel nothing but pleasure. And with the way the mirror fogs up with your heated breath, I’d say I’m doing my job. I can feel the precum leaking from the tip of my cock in my shorts, making my own mess. But with your wet, little pussy pressed against my face, I have no plans to leave this spot anytime soon. Lips and tongue relentless as I eat you out the way you deserve.

Your legs are shaking in my firm hold, threatening to give out, but I keep you standing. Pushing my tongue deep into your folds, I circle your entrance with the tip of it, eliciting a harsh moan from you. I take no mercy, and your body is telling me you don’t want me to. But I also can’t have everyone knowing what’s going on in here.

Reluctantly, I pull back. “Baby, you know how much I love your sounds, but I’m not gonna let you come if you can’t stay quiet.”

You whine and whimper and everything in between to protest against the thought of me stopping. I reassure you by gently licking at your core just once. It has you shakily replying, “I-I’ll be quiet… I promise.”

“Good girl.”

And then I’m back to it. Sinking my tongue into your entrance with no warning, I lap up anything and everything you can give me. You keep your promise of staying quiet, biting down on your bottom lip with enough force to cause damage. Fucking you with my tongue has your hips writhing in pleasure, grinding against my face as you seek your release. “You’re a mess, baby,” the vibrations of my voice against your pussy have you jolting in pleasure. “Soaking wet and all spread out for me…”

I feel your thighs twitch and tense under my grasp, every muscle tightening up. Slowing my pace, I focus on the most sensitive parts of you. Swirling your clit and sinking into your entrance.

“That’s it,” I murmur, knowing you're holding yourself back. “You can let go, baby… Come all over my face like a good girl.”

My lips are back around your bud, sucking and teasing as my hands push your legs further apart. I flatten my tongue against you again and allow you to fuck my face how you want. Grinding your whole pussy along my nose, mouth and chin. Covered in your juices, the corners of my lips twitch upwards as you coat me. This is my happy place. Your hips move faster and sloppier, desperately gripping onto the flat glass with your hands to give you some leverage. Something to hold onto when your release crashes into you. I stay unmoving, letting you use me, other than the occasional flicks of my tongue. I can’t help myself.

Quiet cries leave your lips, too quiet to hear from outside, but loud enough for me to revel in. Soaking them up, my hands grip your thighs tighter, pressing my face as close as I can to your cunt. You’re so close, I can feel it. Teetering on the edge of madness, I do the one thing I know will send you toppling over.

Blindly reaching up, my hand smacks your ass with as much force as I can. Your hips jolt forward as a pained whine escapes you. So I do it again. Spanking the sensitive skin and then soothing the redness away. Over and over again until I feel your muscles contract, and your hips still. A muffled moan breaks free from your throat as you come undone. Moving again, I lap up all that you give me, tasting your cum on my tongue like a delicacy. My cock is straining to be buried deep inside of you.

I actually can’t take it.

I stand up abruptly, leaving you shaking and spasming, still obediently bent over. Not for long. Grabbing your hips, I force you up straight again and slam you against the too-thin wall next to the mirror. Facing each other now, I finally get a good view of your flushed face, still painted with your pleasure. Dazed eyes, blotchy cheeks, and swollen lips from biting them so damn hard.

I’d like to bite them too, I think.

So, I do.

Leaning in without any warning, I capture your lips in mine, letting you taste the remnants of your release on my tongue as I thrust it into your mouth. Swallowing up your moans, I bite down on the lip I promised myself I would. Soothing the sting with a graze of my tongue, my hands glide up and down your body without restraint. I can feel your pebbled nipples pressed against me, begging for some attention. Before I give in to them, I reach behind my head to whip off my ratty t-shirt, tossing it in the heap of clothes in the corner of the room. Chests pressed together, silky skin pressed against my own, and an exchange of heated breaths between our open mouths.

“You’re fucking perfect.” The words tumble from my lips before I can stop them, not that I would, it’s the truth. Cemented as I peer down at your breasts squished against my chest from our closeness. “One day, I’m gonna come all over your tits,” I voice my thoughts, making a shaky breath leave your lips. “But today I’m gonna do it in that sweet, little pussy of yours.”

You shiver and I smirk, reaching down to grab one of your thighs and hitch it over my hips, pressing my bulge against you. Your tiny little bikini has since taken back its residence covering your core, and the two layers of material are killing me. Not enough, though, to stop myself from rocking against you. I can’t get enough of how good you feel.

Feeling your arms wrapping around my neck, I push myself impossibly closer, grinding my clothed cock against your clothed slit. Your fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of my neck, tugging on the strands to summon a groan from my lips. I need more and more.

Burying my face in your neck, my teeth graze the curve, scraping over your skin, as my hips grow desperate. I’m panting into your neck at this point, pathetically. Trying to get any and all friction against my aching length, my hips move faster, pressing you harder into the wall behind you. One hand on your thigh to keep you spread open for me, and one creeping up your torso to grip onto your breast like my life depends on it.

“You drive me crazy,” I mutter against your skin, gently licking a patch I know makes you feel the same. “Gonna make me come in my pants like a fucking teenager.”

Resting my forehead against your shoulder, I stare down at where our hips are making contact. Watching my bulge rub up and down your center, spotting the wet spot you're leaving on the front of my trunks; the hot sight has a shiver running down my spine. It’s so much, I have to grip your thigh a little tighter to keep my head on straight.

I need you. Need you on me. Need you around me. I need you in all the ways you could possibly give me. I’m not lying when I say you make me crazy.

“Harry,” you whine, bringing me back to the present. Only then do I notice how fast my hips have been grinding against yours and all the small moans that have been leaving my lips.

I lift my head from your neck to press my forehead against yours. “God, I love it when you say my name like that.” All you can do is whine in response. “Yeah? You need me that bad? Need me to fill you up, baby?”

“P-please,” you cry, tugging on my hair harder, until my resolve begins to show its cracks.

“Oh, baby, I’m gonna fill you up so good. Gonna stretch you around my cock.” I’m working myself up more and more with my own words, slamming my clothed length against your heat. I’m surprised the wall behind your head hasn’t given away.

But the minute one of your hands leaves my hair to travel down my neck and over my chest, I lose all patience.

Pulling back just enough to grab at the waistband of my trunks, I unsteadily push the material down. Finally, my cock springs free, fully hard and throbbing with its own heartbeat. I grip the base of myself, feeling the heavy weight begging to have something warm wrapped around it. And I know just the thing.

As I pump myself, I use my free hand to slowly drag your bikini bottoms down your hips and thighs. Picking up speed as your cunt comes into view, I groan as I stroke myself, getting sucked into the sensation. My cock twitches in my hands, like it knows your pussy is near, begging me to speed up the process. Luckily, you help me by shimmying the bottoms down the rest of your legs and kicking them off to the side.

I grab your thigh again and hold it up against my hip, feeling the heat of your center aching for me. My hand never stills on my length, especially not at the sight of your glistening folds pleading to envelop me.

Gently, I drag my tip through those folds, spreading my precum and letting it mix with your mess. You moan unabashedly, letting your head fall back against the wall behind you.

“You feel that?” I say, keeping my body pressed up against yours. “Feel what you do to me?”

You nod, a whiney sound deep in your throat as you clench around nothing. I drop my forehead back against yours as I drag my tip up to your clit, feeling your sensitive jolt. I can’t help myself but to tease you, circling the bud with feather-like pressure.

You pull me closer, looping an arm around my neck and bringing me down for a heated kiss. “Please,” you beg against my mouth.

The pleading, desperate tone of voice has my hips thrusting up through your drenched folds, making us both gasp a moan. It shudders me, making me lose grip of myself and force me to hold onto the wall to keep myself up. You claw at my back, needy for more. So I don’t waste any time.

Reaching down between us, I grab my length again, wrapping my hand around it tighter. I moan low and loud against your open mouth, guiding my head toward your entrance. I’m shaking from how much I’m aching and holding back. My other hand slides up your chest, leaving its vice grip on your breast, and grabs your jaw instead, pinning your attention on me.

“You’re all mine, aren’t you?” I watch as every emotion passes through your eyes. Pleasure, lust, and adoration all swirled into one.

“Y-yes, baby,” you shakily reply, nodding against my restraint.

“Are you dripping for me? Aching?” I murmur, eyes dark and half-lidded as I stare back at you. Your chest rises and falls, brushing against mine, with every unsteady breath you take. You’re wrecked before I’m even inside of you.

“Always,” your voice is more confident this time. It has a wicked smirk growing on my lips.

I squeeze your jaw just a fraction tighter. “Such a good, good girl for me.”

The hand that’s on your thigh threatens to leave marks from its grip as I finally press my tip against your entrance, just barely pushing in. I watch as your eyes flutter shut as I feed my cock into you slowly, inch by inch. Gasping when you feel the first stretch, your pussy squeezes me the second I get just the head in. I curse under my breath, trying to keep myself from coming too fast.

“Sweetheart… You’re so tight,” I grit out between clenched teeth, holding myself back from just snapping my hips and burying myself deep inside of you.

Before you can get used to it, I’m pushing in again. My mind goes blank as I feel your walls milking and clenching around me. I trust you’ll keep your leg in place as I let go and move to press my thumb against your clit, hoping it’ll open you up enough for me to reach the hilt. You cry out and on the next flutter of your cunt, I’m sinking fully in. “Jesus,” I hiss.

I slowly pull my hips back, dragging out of you at a pace that has you squirming. It doesn’t last long. Not when my hips rapidly snap back against yours, making you jump and gasp. I do it again. And again and again and again until your gasps and whines are all that I hear. I drop my forehead to your shoulder again to get a better listen, feeling my deep moans rattle against your skin. It all grows when I feel your hips start to grind to meet my thrusts.

“Need…more,” you gasp, trying to get my hips to speed up. Your hands pull at me needily, doing anything you can to get me to comply.

I ignore your request, keeping the slow, languid pace instead. “No,” I say, fingers digging into your skin. “You take what I give you.”

But, despite my words, I do find myself moving faster. I can feel my pleasure building, feeling myself slipping into the daze, but I’m far from finished with you.

So, I pull out, just for a second. Doesn’t mean you aren’t crying out in protest, though. But I make quick work in scooping you up, forcing your legs to wrap around my hips and holding my hands under your ass to support you. I even give it a nice squeeze, so you should drop the pout.

I let go with one hand, easily holding you up with just the other, and reach between us. Grabbing my length again, I waste no time in lining it up with your entrance and sinking in deep. It’s a whole new angle, letting me hit deeper than before. Which means your cries of pleasure intensify.

Oh, we’re definitely getting caught in here. Might as well make the most of it while we can.

With you wrapped around my cock, I grab onto your hips again and hold you against me in the air, no more wall to support you. I take control of your movements, guiding you to pull off my dick and then take me back in. I do it slowly first, letting you get used to the movements led by my hands. Your whimpers tell me I’m doing good.

Losing control, I guide your hips faster and meet you with my own thrusts, slapping our hips together and definitely making our presence known. Your tits fly around right in front of my face, bouncing from the force of our movements. I can’t help myself from leaning forward to take one of your nipples into my mouth. Swirling the bud with my tongue, my eyes stare up at you to gauge your reaction. Your eyes pressed shut, brows knit together, jaw dropped with soft moaning breaths leaving your lips; I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.

And I’m not sure how, but my feet find the purchase to move as I continue fucking you against me. Moving us around the small room until I’m facing away from the mirror and standing in front of a small seat.

A devilish and delicious plan forms in my head.

Pulling out, you whine and try to find friction against my abdomen. No words need to be shared to show my refusal, only actions talk as I unwrap your legs from my body and set you down on shaky limbs. With my hands on your hips, I flip you around, your back to my front again. And like deja-vu, I’m pressing your back down until you arch and take the hint to hold onto the stool in front of you.

Your ass is pressed up against my groin, wriggling around seeking attention and pleasure. I scold you with a fast smack against the needy skin, but it only spurs you on. Gripping both cheeks in my hands, I spread them apart, giving me the perfect view of the most intimate part of your body. I can’t help but to grind myself against you again, giving us what we both need.

“Are you gonna be good for me, baby?” I speak up, my eyes glued to your perfect skin as I smooth my hands up your back. Pressing you further down until you’re arched into perfect form. “Gonna stay nice and quiet?”

“Y-yes… Yes, baby,” you shakily reply, whole body shivering when I line myself up with you again.

I know how this position has you, so I doubt your promise. “We’ll see about that.”

With a bruising grip on your hips, I slam my whole cock into you in one fell swoop. And just as I predicted, you scream out. But I can’t find it in me to care. Not if anyone hears, or walks in, or—hell—if they call the cops. Being buried deep inside your wet, hot cunt makes every worry disappear.

“Fuck!” I groan. “You’re clenching me so hard, baby. So fucking tight.” I keep up a brutal pace, leaving my hips slapping against your ass.

Your ass that wiggles and grinds to meet my thrusts, desperate for anything I give you. My grip somehow tightens, guaranteeing fingerprints on your skin for weeks. It’s an effort to hold back and not just explode into you, release every bit of cum I know you’re desperate for, but I do. Though watching my cock disappear into your pink pussy probably won’t help my case.

Looking away, I catch sight of our position in the mirror, seeing your shaky legs and blissed out face. Not a good idea to look here either, but I can’t hear my gaze away.

“Look at yourself,” I demand, slowly my hips until I see your eyes in the glass, seeing what I’m seeing. “Look at the way I sink into your tight fucking cunt.”

My hips emphasize my words, picking back up where I left off so you can watch too. I’m entranced by the sight, like watching my own personal porno. It’s the best damn one I’ve ever seen. Eyes flicking to your face, I watch your jaw drop as you lock onto the contact of my disappearing length, watching me rock and slam into you.

“Oh my god,” you breathe the words, eyes glazing over and threatening to roll back.

So I smack you ass to keep you alert. Back arching from the painful pleasure, I sink deeper into your heat. Pants leave my lips as I force myself to tear my gaze away, staring at the wall ahead of me and trying to get my head on straight again. It’s impossible, though. With the way your pussy clenches around my cock, I know I won’t survive much longer.

“Shit, baby, you’re killing me,” I hiss out, succumbing to watching our hips connect again. “Feel me stretching you out?” You moan. “You’re taking me so well. Taking my big cock deep inside.”

“I-I’m gonna come!” You yell, far too loudly for my liking. It has me leaning over your body and clamping my hand over your mouth to keep you silent. But it also changes the angle once again, leaving me to repeatedly hit up against that spongy spot inside of you. You scream into my hand, hips meeting mine with a greedy desperation.

I’m losing myself here, leaning my forehead against your back as I try to keep myself from coming. At least until you do. Reaching between us and grabbing at your bouncing tits might not have been the best idea for that. A strangled groan leaves my lips as I struggle to keep my hips at an even rhythm. Groping and squeezing at your supple flesh, your hot breath hits my hand almost erotically.

And with one pinch of your nipple, you’re a goner.

I feel your back arch up against mine, straining your muscles as you come—hard. My hand isn’t enough to silence your screams, a mix of curses and my name tumbling from your lips as you’re overcome with pleasure. I feel it around me, pulsing and sucking and getting impossibly wetter as I continue to drive into you. It forces me to let out my own stream of curses against the skin of your back, my eyes pinched shut with immense pressure.

“Fuck, baby… So good. So fucking good coming on my cock like that—shit! I’m gonna fucking come. You’re so tight, trying to milk me, baby. Fuck!” the words tumble out of me without a second thought, slipping under the wave of pleasure.

You're still spasming around me as I pull out just before I come, and my whole body screams in protest. You whine from the abrupt loss, but with a clearer head, you’d be thanking me.

Taking my cock in my hand, I stroke myself to the same rhythm I was just fucking you with. Keeping my eyes trained on your cum dripping cunt, I pretend I’m still buried to the hilt. Streams of moans and grunts escape me as I watch your legs threaten to buckle and your juices drip down the apex of your thighs.

I did that, I think, I wrecked you.

That thought and this sight is what sends me over the edge, gasping out as I feel my muscles tighten. Transfixed by the sight of my hot, white, beaded cum shooting out of my tip and landing on your lower back and ass. I swear I could come again and again over that alone. Watching my mess drip down your body and paint your back like a masterpiece.

Fuck.

I take back what I said before.

I’d like to thank whoever is responsible for losing your suitcase, because without them, this wouldn't have just happened.

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