#Lingerie Sleepwear Boutique | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alstroemeriadissonance · 3 years

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Cotton, garters, lace, silk. (NSFW)

Fics on the men of NXX giving Rosa lingerie/sleepwear.

For the guys who've read my other stuff: for the sake of this piece, each chapter assumes MC/Rosa has ended up with the respective ML.

WARNING: NSFW by varying degrees. Long read.

Luke (nightshirt)

You come to Luke's place like a storm, during the storm.

Having carelessly ignored the weather report that was forecasted as early as three days ago, you do not bring an umbrella with you when you step out early to do errands.

This behavior can be attributed to your headstrong stubbornness--who needs umbrellas, anyway?--and also the fact that you can always count on one person to bail you out from any kind of predicament.

In this case, the predicament of potentially coming down with a cold due to wet clothing.

"Luke!" you shout his name as you swing open the door to his antique's shop.

And sure enough, there he is--the ray of sunshine to your storm cloud--just starting to close shop early, expecting no visitors to arrive due to inclement weather.

Your best friend's eyes widen both at the sight of you dripping wet with rainstorm, and the strong wind that slips in through the door threatening to topple over some of the more delicate wares in his store. Luke runs quickly to close the door behind you, and once that is taken care of he turns to you.

"Hang on, let me get a towel."

It only takes a couple of minutes for him to set you up in his quarters above the shop, with a bath towel draped over your damp clothes, a cup of cocoa emanating sweet warmth to your hands.

Luke stares at you--you have never looked so lovely, and so fragile with raindrops clinging to your skin and hair--and he wishes he had his camera to capture the very moment you lift the cup of cocoa to your lips.

The way you take small sips of the hot liquid is almost like kissing.

He quickly turns around to hide his blushing, which shows anyway on his ears.

"I'll get you something to wear in the meantime!" He then runs down to the first floor and out of the shop.

You do not see how flustered he was.

===

Luke returns with a shopping bag you recognize--it is from one of those boutiques that you sometimes check out from time to time with Kiki despite being too much on the girly side--and he pushes the package wordlessly into your arms before running back down to the shop once again.

Bemused, both at Luke's choice of boutique and whatever the deal was with him, you prise apart the sticker seal of the paper bag to reveal its contents.

Inside was a pink nightshirt emblazoned with a teddy bear print on the chest area.

Oh Luke, sometimes you never change.

Stifling a laugh, you pad your way into the bathroom to change out of your damp clothes and, after hanging your rain-soaked articles of clothing by the dryer you slip into the nightshirt that Luke had so kindly bought for you.

I better ask him how he even thought of buying one from that store.

"Hey Luke," you call out from above the stairs leading to the antiques shop, "Thanks for the shirt!"

"No problemo, Watson," he replies, voice muffled. "Does it fit you?"

"Yeap!"

A pause, then, "Can I see?"

You do not wait for him to show up the stairs, rather you run downstairs, barefoot, to see your Sherlock hunched over his workbench and worrying his lips on a piece of toast.

"Tada." You twirl as soon as you come into his view. "I can't believe you even remembered that I used to like teddy bears!"

Luke nods appreciatively, congratulating himself on what he considers a job well done, with the toast still lodged in his mouth.

"Also, you know my size!"

"Yea--" Luke was going to say something, but the toast drops from his mouth and plops onto his workbench.

Luke stares at you, openmouthed, and you can see the blush blooming from his neck, up to his face, then his ears. He then averts his eyes, as if having seen something he clearly shouldn't.

"Er. You're not wearing a bra?"

Oh.

"I got really soaked, so..." You look down, and sure enough, your nipples are poking against the thin, comfortable cotton fabric of the nightshirt. Then you look back at him, and he still isn't done panicking.

Your response to his cute reaction manifests as a naughty grin; Luke is still trying to avoid looking at you--oh, sweet summer child--and you decide to take things into your hands.

"Luke?"

"Y-yeah?"

You cross the distance between you two and wedge yourself in that space between Luke and the workbench, wordlessly ordering him to give you his full attention. You take both of his gloved hands--slightly trembling--and place them palms down on your hips.

"Guess what else I'm not wearing right now."

"What?"

Your hands still on his, you carefully slide them up your body and hitching up the hem of your new nightshirt in the process...revealing the answer as soon as the hem gets high enough to show your navel.

"Oh shit." Luke groans as he looks down. "Why are you teasing me like this?"

"Because I love seeing your reactions, Luke," you say, quite truthfully.

Somehow your reply snaps something within him. Is it is shyness? Or resolve? You wonder as he lifts you to sit your naked ass on the workbench and start working on you.

That's fine. You both have the entire storm to ride out while you try to figure out the answer.

Marius (custom-designed lingerie)

"Missy...has anyone told you how nice your ass is?"

The furious sounds of friction produced by charcoal lead against canvas permeate Marius von Hagen's studio.

"Not really," you mutter under your breath. "Then again, they haven't been making me lift my ass this high either, for almost an hour." You shift your weight to another stiletto-clad foot to ease the fatigue on your legs.

Somehow you let yourself get talked into doing the Marius von Hagen an immense favor, that is to play the part of his muse for the latest Z painting.

As soon as you had agreed to his request (begrudgingly), Marius presented you with a box containing custom-made full set of lingerie and pair of stiletto heels that he himself designed.

The manner in which he took your measurements still remains a mystery.

And now you're in the middle of Marius's studio wearing the black-and-purple lacy confection with matching stilettos made only for you; leaning over one of his desks pulled to the center for the purpose of you posing with it: you bending over the table with your palms flat on the desk, your pert garter-and-stiletto-heel-enhanced ass raised high in the air, as Master von Hagen demands.

"Please don't tell me this will be displayed anywhere in Stellis."

The sound of charcoal-against-canvas briefly pause. "Why? Aren't you proud of how drop-dead gorgeous you look today?

"You know what I mean!"

"Hmmm." The soft scratching of charcoal against canvas resumes. Marius knows what he is doing, but oh teasing out the sweet exasperated big-sister act out of you just brings him such pleasure. It's one of the very few things he is thankful for being born as himself; if he wasn't Marius von Hagen, who knows if it was still possible for him to meet a junior attorney like you, much less represent him in court?

"Marius! von! Hagen!"

"I'm done with the sketch, don't worry," he says, taking off the canvas from the easel to briefly show you his underdrawing. You gasp; even in the rough lines you could make out your features, only a bit too raunchy for your imagination to handle. The brassiere made out your breasts to be a little too plump and bursting out of the lace trim; and your ass, well...it was at such an angle that you'd expect to see a similar pose in a porn or girly magazine.

"Artem and Celestine will kill me if this gets out and recognizes me from the final painting."

Marius replaces the canvas on its easel and walks towards you. "Well, that only means I get to hire you directly for our legal department, myeah?"

"I will die of humiliation first before that happens, Marius."

The laugh that escapes Marius lips is low and lusty. "Oh babe. I really, really like you, you know that?" He places a kiss on the top of your head. "I know you're tired, why don't you sit on the desk for awhile?"

"Why not one of the chairs instead?"

"Because we're not done yet."

With a groan you comply, sitting down and relishing the sweet relief your lower back feels as soon as you are permitted to let go of the painful posture.

Marius then kneels in front of you. "So this is how silk stockings feel." You feel both of his hands roaming your legs. With a soft moan his lips running over the delicate side of one of your thighs; his breath hot and ragged against your silk-clad skin.

He stops just before his lips reach the crotch of your black sheer lace panties, enjoying your soft whimpering that you make when you realize his tease.

"Mmm. I don't even have to push the fabric aside to see all of you. I underestimated how sheer your panty is. Heheh." Marius eagerly takes in the sight of your folds visible through the almost see-through black lace. "I wonder..."

He gives the lace sitting just above your clit a tender, tentative lick, and revels in your response: you wrapping your thighs around his neck, pulling his face closer to your sex; your fingers grabbing at fistfuls of his dark hair--all these as you moan for him to continue.

"What do you want me to do, Missy~" Even Marius's voice alone seems to send vibrations through your nethers.

"Marius," you hiss through your teeth. "If you don't continue right now, I swear I'll..."

"Swear wha--mmph!" You push his annoying mouth down to your wetness; giving Marius a mouthful of your desire and desperation given physical form.

Sweet relief washes over as he finally focuses on you. The crotch of the silk panties were sheer enough that not only was it see-through, the ministrations of the young von Hagen's tongue over your slit could be fully enjoyed as if there was no fabric impeding the pleasure. You could even feel him humming to himself as he places his lips over your bud, sucking you through the silk.

"Mmm. I still can't get over how you taste," This time he pushes aside the silk fabric to allow two of his fingers to slip inside your folds, winding you up with thrusts alternating with his tongue flicking at your clit.

"Don't stop, please," you finally beg him.

"I got you babe. Don't worry," Marius manages to say in between licks, increasing the tempo alongside the thrusts of his fingers until you experience that oh-so-familiar earth shattering sensation between your legs.

"That good huh?" Marius gives your wetness a long, lingering lick before standing up over your still panting form. He reaches over with both hands to free your breasts from the extra-lift cups of the brassiere.

"You really look like a work of art." Marius murmurs softly as he licks his lips, his gaze tracing your silhouette splayed over the desk.

Then, with a business-like tone, he says "Right. Let's work on the prototype for the second painting."

This time you have recovered enough to react. "What second painting?" You are wondering if he thinks he hasn't overworked you enough for this painting session.

"I did tell you we're not done yet."

"Marius! von! Hagen!"

"Trust me on this one." Smirking, he holds out his hand for you. "Come on, this shouldn't take long." You accept his proffered hand to sit yourself up.

You were about to start adjusting your brassiere cups when Marius tells you to leave them as it is. "That's not necessary. Leave them be."

"Okay, so now what?"

"Could you do that pose again for me, Missy?" Marius is biting his lip in anticipation.

You decide to might as well do as he says to get things over and done with--the sooner it is done, the sooner you could continue playtime with Marius--and assume the back-hurting position from earlier.

You notice Marius still hasn't gone back to his easel yet. "Er...Marius? Thought you're going to start on your second painting now?"

A low chuckle emanates from behind you. "Yes. I already am. Look to your right."

Annoyed at what could be another of Marius's tricks again, you do look to your right and see what he meant: to your right side is a large wall mirror that captured almost the entirety of Marius's studio. It was large, however since the mirror was presumably installed to give the illusion of additional floor space, you did not pay it any mind.

Until now, however, now that the mirror captured the lewd image of Marius posing to take you from behind, his pants already pooled around his ankles, cock aimed directly at your pert garter-adorned ass.

Marius sees you look at your reflection with mild shock.

"That's the prototype for the second painting," he whispered as he rubbed the tip of his length against your wetness.

His eyes never leave the reflection, intently studying all detail and committing everything to his memory.

Slowly he starts to push into your slit, shallow thrusts at first until he is fully hilted inside you.

"Damn, we look good," he says, pausing his movements just long enough to admire the absolutely lewd imagery depicting the youngest von Hagen and his favorite lawyer cum big sister figure.

"Marius." Your voice comes out strangled. "If you don't move now..."

The lust-addled expression on your face is reflected perfectly on the mirror, and this delights Marius immensely. "Damn, girl. You're horny."

"Goddamnit Marius. I will kill--ah!"

He laughs softly as he grabs your hips and start pummeling you with hard thrusts that push you hard into the desk. Marius revels in the way your breasts bounce at every movement he makes, at the pure lust displayed on your face and reflected back by the mirror for him to enjoy.

"Mm. Shit, I'm getting close," you hear him whisper urgently. "Inside?"

"Yes."

You feel his thrusts pick up pace as he chases his own release, and he eventually shudders inside you, filling you with his hot seed.

"Mhm, good girl," he murmurs at your ear as he collapses onto you.

===

Marius eventually decides not to display his two newest paintings outside of his own room.

The first one, the one where Rosa poses provocatively with her come-hither form, is hanging by the wall facing his bed.

The other one, where Marius captures that very intimate moment where he lovingly fucks his beloved lawyer from behind, is carefully stowed away in an artist's tube, to be taken out when he feels like enjoying it.

He figured out that it wasn't probably a good idea to make both paintings available for public viewing if he had to jerk it from time to time as he worked to finish both paintings.

Especially the second one.

Artem (babydoll lingerie)

It is your birthday, and while you clearly should be happy about the fact that Artem has dropped by your apartment to throw you a little party, just you and him, you can't help but pick up a sense of apprehension coming from your senior.

"Artem, is something the matter?" you ask him as he busied himself with putting away the cooking ingredients for later.

"Ah, um." He cleared his throat. "Nothing, really."

Nothing, my ass. You have worked with him for so long now that you have learned to pick out his quirks. However, you decide not to push with your questioning to avoid ruining the day. It'll probably become apparent in time, you think.

And as it turns out, you prove your hunches to be on the right track.

You first notice it the way Artem surreptitiously (unsuccessfully) tries to hide a nicely-packaged gift box out of your sight, as if trying to keep you from seeing it or even finding out that he had a gift for you in the first place. Curious.

Trying to confirm if your hunch is correct, you take hold of the poorly-hidden gift from underneath a pile of groceries. "Artem!" you exclaim, making sure he doesn't miss your little act, "is this for me? You shouldn't have."

The way his face goes pale all too clearly confirms your suspicions. You file away this observation for later, and decide to let him relax by setting the gift aside without opening it for now.

===

The next two hours pass by without incident. Your grin after downing his almond jelly dessert definitely floors the man, and you finally see him relax and smile genuinely for the first time in ages.

Deciding that now may be the best time to broach the topic, you finally ask for your gift.

"Artem, I want to see whatever it is you've brought me!"

As expected, all color drain from his face, all traces of mirth from the previous moments wiped clean.

"Artem, what's wrong?" You try your hardest to temper your impatience and frustration--what is up with that gift?

"Nothing really, its just that..." A conflicted expression clouds over his face. Finally Artem relents, and with a deep sigh wordlessly grabs the gift box--a pretty pink box tied with deep magenta bow--placing it on the table.

It looks innocuous enough, for now.

You waste no time in opening the box; ribbons untied and lid opened, you finally pull out what lies underneath all the layers of crumpled delicate gift wrapping paper.

What you see takes your breath away.

It is a cute babydoll-style lingerie, in soft pink hues and accented with ivory ribbons. You can totally see yourself wearing it, perhaps to try and charm someone...

Artem's face reddens, stumbling over his words as he tries to explain himself. "It's...well, ah. Celestine..."

Celestine? What does she have to do with this?

Then you remember how awkward Artem actually is, and you finally understand that he probably had outside help to buy something as intimate as lingerie.

Which brings to mind another question.

"This gift...was it your idea?"

The question takes Artem aback, and he is stunned for a few moments until he finds his voice again. "No...

"I lost a bet with Celestine. She actually...bought this for me to give you as a birthday gift."

Oh. So that's how it is. You cannot help but feel a bit crestfallen. For one sweet moment you thought you may finally break that barrier that kept the both of you from becoming intimate.

Somehow your disappointment shows a bit too clearly, and Artem starts panicking again. "I...I can get you another gift, if you want."

You shake your head, smiling wanly. "No, I really like this one. Please send Celestine my thanks." You fondle the soft lace and exquisite chiffon. "I really like it."

"You do?" Artem looks relieved, however you try to clear up the one glaring misunderstanding.

"I like it, yes, but that's because there's supposed to be a certain special meaning behind it. But since this isn't your idea, this significance doesn't really hold water.

"The meaning, being?" Artem is now all ears, sincerely trying to learn more about what proves to be an esoteric subject matter for him.

"Uh..." You know he'd eventually ask about it, but somehow you still aren't prepared to be forthcoming enough to answer him. "Well." It's now your turn to blush, and blush hard.

"What's the meaning behind it?" Artem presses on, genuinely not comprehending something that should have been as subtle as a ten-wheeler truck. You truly are not ready for such innocence.

Man... You sigh, and finally answer his question, resigned to whatever may happen.

"Sex."

"...Pardon?" Artem thinks he may not have heard it right.

"Birthday sex."

You carefully watch the man's reaction, waiting for the time that his innocent, wired-only-for-work brain suffers BSOD.

However, it does not come.

"I...see," Artem mumbles to himself. He seems to have taken it much better that you expected. He doesn't even blush. "To set us up this far..." he touches his chin, deep in thought.

You try to dispel the heavy mood with a nervous laugh. "Celestine has the oddest sense of humor at times, don't you think?"

"But you said earlier...you liked it?" Artem does not seem to hear what you just said.

"Mhm. Yeah. I did."

"Even with that...significance you have just told me?"

You look at him straight into his cerulean blues. "Yes, I meant what I said."

"..."

The silence between the two of you is so thick you almost could hear the faint sound of the man's heartbeat.

"Do you..." Artem clears his throat, a blush forming from his neck, and rising to his face. "Do you want to try it on?"

===

After much coaxing you finally manage to get Artem to step foot into your bedroom.

He has been to your apartment for more than a few times already; yet stepping over the threshold to your bedroom is the one line he never crossed...until now.

You finally get him to sit on your bed. The sight of Artem sitting all serious-like and nervous in your bedroom somehow gets your heart racing. Excited, you disappear into your bathroom to change into the lingerie Celestine has so kindly picked out for you.

You take your time slipping into the babydoll nightwear, however--some things are meant to be savored, after all--and you indulge yourself on the sensation of soft chiffon sliding over your skin.

A quick peek in the mirror shows that yes, you look absolutely cute and charming, and perhaps ready to take your senior partner's heart. You also spritz on your favorite perfume, for good measure.

When you step out of the bathroom you see him absently caress the bedsheet beside him, perhaps deep in thought.

"Artem," you softly call out, "I'm here."

He turns to behold your form, clad only in soft layers of sheer fabric that barely even covers your thighs.

To say that his breath is taken away is an understatement. Though, he still manages to whisper the word "Beautiful."

"Um. Do you like it?" You do a little twirl so he could also see the ribbons tied at the back.

He is too fixated looking at your form to answer at first. "Yes. Yes, of course," he eventually answers you, his eyes tracing and appreciating the outline of your curves.

"I'm glad."

It only takes a few seconds for Artem to stand up from the bed and gather you in his arms; he embraces you in such a way that he literally sweeps you off your feet, prompting you to throw your arms around his neck for a kiss.

The kiss starts off tentative and gentle--both of your lips graze each other at first, then you both look into each other's eyes and smile reassuringly, as if giving the other permission to go further.

You then close your eyes and part your lips slightly, allowing Artem to dip into an openmouthed kiss where he tries to learn of your taste of your tongue. He could still taste the almond jelly that he fed you for dessert as your tongues gently entwine.

"Are you alright with this, Rosa?" he asks as he briefly disengages from the kiss to gauge your reaction.

"Mm. Yeah." You nod, before closing your eyes again.

He then carries you gently to your bed, covering your body with his but careful enough for him not to burden you with his weight.

As you both continue to kiss, he lets one of his hands caress the smooth chiffon covering your breasts, tracing the outline of your chest. Artem spends his sweet time getting to know your body and your curves--his hand gently strokes your stomach, then a thigh, letting his fingers flutter across your leg, then going back up again.

The gentle touches, strangely enough, remind you somehow of sweet candy.

"I love you, Rosa," he smiles down at you, caressing your cheek this time both with a soft touch of his fingers and the most gentle of smiles.

"I love you too."

Smiling, you take hold of the end of one of the ribbons that held the the bodice of your lingerie together, and offered it up to Artem.

"What's this?"

You let slip out a soft giggle. "Might as well have you unwrap my present to you."

Speechless, he takes the end of the ribbon and tugs at it, untying the ribbon knot and loosening the lace. Artem fingers the ribbon, slowly unraveling it to loosen the bodice enough to free your breasts. You feel his lips press tiny soft kisses all over your chest, his hot, moist breath tickling your skin.

Eventually you feel both of his hands gather the hem of your dress up your waist to reveal the matching pink panties underneath.

Artem's breathing hitched for a second.

With slightly trembling fingers he pulls down your panties down to your ankles, revealing the quivering wetness within that is starved for touch.

You gasp, which prompts him to look at your with concern.

"Are you alright, Rosa? Are you uncomfortable?"

You smile at him reassuringly. "Yeah...just that...

"Could you please touch me down there?" You cover your blush with your hands.

He nods, then brings down his fingers to your slit, his fingertips tracing the folds of your wetness. He observes your face as he lets his fingers explore your depths...one finger in at first, then another one...thrusting in and out ever so gently.

"Is this...okay?" He asks, unsure if he is giving you pleasure.

You decide that there is no harm in teaching him how. Taking his fingers, you guide them to your sensitive bud, and demonstrate the motions that bring you to a frenzy on lonely, touch-starved nights.

Artem is a fast learner; only a few minutes of mimicking your touch and he already brings you to the brink, shuddering in a sweet orgasm that is finally brought by fingers not your own.

You moan out his name, and reach out to him for another deep, indulgent kiss that you revel in as you enjoy your orgasm high.

"It's your turn now," you whisper to his ear as soon as you recover, trying to tug his tie loose. "It's not fair that I'm the only one naked here," you pout. "I...want to see you too."

"Fine," Artem smiles at you, then proceeds to take off his clothing all the while not taking his eyes off your body adorned by lace that no longer covers you.

It is only when he sheds his clothing that you realize just how much he wants you. You open your legs to welcome him as he settles between your thighs, the tip of his hardness poking at your entrance.

Artem calms himself down with a deep breath before he pulls your thighs close to him and wrapping your legs around his waist. Slowly he enters you--his thrusts starting out unsure at first due to him fearing that he may hurt you--but when he sees your face clouded over with desire his own needs threaten to overtake him as well.

"Rosa," he chants your name over and over as his thrusts pick up speed, desperate to reach that release within your folds. Sweat beads now drop from his brow and onto your abdomen every time his thrusts bury his entire length deep inside you.

"I'm coming," he eventually gasps, and he pulls out just in time to spill his seed all over your stomach and the chiffon gathering around your waist.

===

The two of you spend the rest of your birthday riding out the afterglow in your bed.

"Artem, love," you turn towards him to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Don't you think we owe Celestine bigtime?"

"Mmm. Yeah." He smiles down at you, as his fingers lazily play with a lock of your hair. "Let's think of something nice to give her soon.

"Anyway," he adds, sneaking a kiss on your forehead. "Happy birthday."

Vyn (custom-made lingerie his own uniform and tie)

Vyn Richter did have plans for Valentine's night with you.

He has already prepared the perfect gift for an amorous night spent in bed, having paid top money for the most exquisite set of bespoke lingerie be custom-made only for you, to wear for his own pleasure.

However, sometimes things don't always turn out as planned, even for someone like Vyn who craves control as a measure to guarantee a degree of certainty in his life.

So when you showed up out of his bathroom wearing the shirt he wore to work for that day, looking absolutely erotic with the shirt still unbuttoned revealing your fully naked flesh within; inadvertently stirring awake a hidden fetish that lay dormant in him for so long...

Vyn's hand is essentially forced to make last minute change of plans.

"Vyn, I'm sorry," you tell him as soon as you notice him looking at you with such an intensity--is he upset that you wore his shirt without asking for permission? "I forgot to bring a change of clothing and only realized it when I was already in the shower."

"Never you mind, my beloved," is all Vyn says, while surreptitiously hiding the gift box containing his erstwhile Valentines gift.

===

You do not fully comprehend why Vyn told you to keep on wearing his work shirt to bed. Said bed, it should be noted, is adorned with scattered rose petals, clearly prepared by Vyn for a special Valentine's Day romp.

He excused himself for a bit to take care of a last minute task, so you are left to your own devices for the meantime.

Stretching languidly, you let yourself lay down on the lightly-rose scented bed lazily tossing and turning and, in one fit of boredom lift your legs up in the air.

It is exactly in this pose that Vyn catches you in when he enters the room. "I am sorry to keep you waiting, bel--ah, damn."

You are not aware of it, but the way your slightly damp hair spills around your hair like an auburn halo surrounded by rose petals, the way his shirt is spread out underneath you like wings, and your legs splayed into the air has turned him on so immensely Vyn suddenly goes weak in the knees--something that was previously thought to be impossible for the man who has never been caught blushing, not even once.

And Vyn cursing out loud--a first as well.

"Hm? Vyn?" You sit up to face him, all too unaware of the delectable sex hair that has formed on your head after all the bored tossing and turning that you did a few minutes earlier; his unbuttoned shirt slipping over one of your bare shoulders, only just revealing a naked breast half-hidden underneath.

All the critical hits dealt directly to Vyn eventually stack up, and he finds himself having to lean against the doorframe to keep himself steady.

(The imagery is so much that for a split second he considers commissioning Marius to transfer this beautiful, almost sacred scene to canvas, but the thought of another man beholding this view repulsed Vyn from the very idea.)

Forget fancy lingerie. He absolutely has to fuck you wearing his uniform.

He licks his suddenly dry lips. "I brought refreshments." Vyn's voice is unsteady as he placed the ice bucket containing a bottle of Romanee-Conti by the bedstand, alongside a small basket of assorted fruit.

You peer at his face, concerned that something may have thrown a wrench in his plans--his expression was so unreadable you could not gauge if something bothered him, or in this case excited Vyn so immensely that it turned on a secret switch inside him.

Vyn notices this, and he reaches out with trembling fingers to touch your lips. "Nothing is amiss, my darling. Do not worry."

"Mm, okay."

From his pockets he produce the necktie that he wears as part of his uniform. "Can you indulge me in some sort of...play?"

This catches your interest; any play that Vyn introduces to your lovemaking has always been a novel experience.

"Nothing so fancy this time, I am afraid," Vyn admits. "I have to come clean--I am extremely aroused at the sight of you wearing my articles of clothing. Specifically, my work uniform."

It is at that moment you thought of throwing a glance at his crotch--sure enough, the tell-tale sign of a bulge straining against the pants fabric is there.

So even Vyn has this sort of fetish, you think, filing it for later reference.

"So," Vyn holds out the strip of wine red silk, "can I have you wear my necktie?"

"I'm afraid I don't know how to tie one," you sheepishly admit. "Can you do it for me?"

"But of course." Vyn settles on the bed and, from behind you reaches around to effortlessly knot the tie around your neck, the silk cloth settling on your bare skin.

Having a flash of inspiration, you clear your throat and, in low voice recite Professor Richter's favorite intro to his course. "Many of you have been influenced by how psychology is portrayed in literature and media..."

You throw a glance at Vyn, checking for his reaction. He remains poker faced, if it weren't for the fact that he is biting hard into his thumb as he watches you pretend being him.

"...something mysterious, almost supernatural," Vyn continues his introduction to psychology spiel. With both hands he reaches under the shirt you are wearing to fondle your breasts; the way his breathing increasingly grow shallow and faster clearly indicate his immense excitement.

"Well, aren't you turned on?" Feeling increasingly mischievous, you snatch away his glasses and slip them on your face.

This earns you a chuckle from Vyn. "Careful, for people with good eyesight you'd find that using graded glasses with hurt your eyes."

Despite that, however, he greatly enjoyed seeing you hijack his pieces of clothing. The crotch of his pants has become increasingly uncomfortable...

"Ow. You're right," you murmur as you try to peer through Vyn's glasses. "It does hurt."

"I did warn you."

"Well, if I close my eyes, the glasses wouldn't hurt me, right?" You proceed to close your eyes, grinning like an idiot who thinks they won an argument against the sun.

"...True."

Seeing you sitting in front of him, however, with closed eyes and being defenseless, Vyn suddenly has an idea.

"Just keep your eyes closed. I trust that you will not open your eyes until I say so," he murmurs, quietly unbuckling his belt and carefully opening the fly of his pants so that he doesn't make a sound.

He manages to free his cock from its restraints.

Then he reaches out towards you to gently tug at his tie that you are wearing. "Do not open your eyes just yet..."

Carefully, gently, he pulls at the necktie to lead your head towards his fully erect length. Once your face is close enough, he commands you to open your eyes.

You gasp at the sight of his cock twitching just a few inches from your face.

Vyn pulls again at the necktie gently. "You should know what to do now," he whispers, his breathing ragged with anticipation.

You smile deviously at him, your eyes enduring the slight pain of peering at him through his glasses--teasing Vyn is worth any pain, after all--and, after you close your eyes once again, your tongue darts tiny licks on that sweet spot where the shaft meets the tip.

You are rewarded with a gasp and a whimper from your lover.

Growing bolder, you take in as much of his length as you can, head bobbing on his lap as you suck and your tongue massaging that sweet spot just underneath the tip.

Vyn looks down at you, at the you wearing his shirt, his glasses, and his necktie that he uses to lead you around to do dirty, delectable things on his person, currently milking his shaft.

The thought and fantasies of how far he can further bring this concept has him almost shooting his full load directly into your throat. He quickly tugs at the necktie again. "Stop--enough..."

You then sit up, lifting Vyn's glasses just enough for you to wipe the involuntary tears caused by his cock hitting the back of your throat. Eventually you feel him push you onto the bed face down, grabbing at your hips to lift your ass higher up.

"Hah...I do apologize, I really did want to do more play," Vyn manages to say in between ragged breaths. "But I just need to fuck you now."

And fuck you he did.

===

Next day, at the Giannovyn Mental Health Research Center.

No one could exactly pinpoint what was different with Dr. Richter that day. There was actually nothing objectively amiss, but there was something off about him that people couldn't quite put a finger on aside from his clothes being just a tiny little bit disheveled.

That is, until a patient currently being treated for sex addiction pointed out that Dr. Richter clearly smelled of sex underneath his cologne.

#tot smut #tears of themis #vyn richter #luke pearce #marius von hagen #tot vyn #tot marius #tot luke #tot artem #artem wing #tears of themis smut #tears of themis fanfic

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