Okay I saw you want more submits talking about pure filth so I had an idea.
I honestly feel like Ethan Landry would be like seriously into pussy worship. Like he’d want to go down on you all of the fucking time but like in a very submissive way? I’m talking him on his knees while your stood up with your hands in his hair, pulling his face into your pussy and fully grinding all over his face. He’ll do it till he can’t fucking breathe anymore with tears literally rolling down his face but he just can’t get enough of it and he’d 100 percent cum just from eating you out without you even needing to touch him.
Just popped into my mind and who best to share this idea with than the smut queen?
Smut queen eh? How sweet are you!
For real, you got inside my head Anon so fuck it. You get to have a piece. This is what I am talking about, requests are closed but if you send in something that sparks the inspo then my brain will RUN with it! Ethan has a mouth made for eating pussy, those lips are built to cradle clit I swear to God. I did this all in one go, so let’s go!
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Rating. Explicit. Length. 1.4K. Ethan Landry X AFAB! Reader. Warnings: Ethan Is A Needy Slut. Begging. Eating Out. Pussy Worship. Praise. Dirty Talk. Crying. Grinding. Face fucking. Premature Ejaculation. Ethan Creams His Jeans Hands Free.
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Pay Your Respects.
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You don’t think you have ever met a guy as needy as Ethan Landry, hell you aren’t sure there is any man you haven’t met who could top him in that regard. He wants, he pines, he craves and he begs so fucking prettily, just like he is right now. He was going to come over and you knew he would be there soon, you thought you had enough time for a shower, you miscalculated, which meant that he came over before you could, still wrapped in your robe before you could clean up. You let him in and as soon as the door closed he was on you, poor thing couldn’t hold back, needed to kiss you by way of greeting.
It makes you laugh against his mouth, saying a playful and amused, “Hey there-”, between kisses. He returned the greeting, far more out of breath than you were, “Hi.”
It had been all of two days since you saw each other but he was acting like it was a month apart. You returned his affection, pressing nearer, arms wrapped around his neck, leaning up, fervent presses of your mouths together, teases of tongue before you break it, pull away and ask, “How are you?”
“M’ fine.” It was a lie. He looks so upset that you weren’t still kissing him, a look akin to a kicked puppy, sad eyes and a pout that could break almost anyone's heart, make whomever want to give him whatever he wanted to put a smile back on his face. He has something in mind, the short clipped answers and his overall body language communicating that. You asked, “You don’t wanna talk?”
A shake of his head and you hum, “Hmm what could you want,-” His hands are on your waist and your fingers toy with the soft curls at the base of his neck, “-what could you want…”
He had been holding eye contact with you the whole time you stopped kissing him but now he breaks it, eyes dropping down, a brief flick that you catch. Corners of your lips quirk up and you let him go, your hands slide down and you start to open your robe, you ask quietly, “Have you eaten?”
“No.” He responds quickly, his eyes watching every single move of your fingers, watching you untie the belt, pull aside plush pastel fabric, enjoying every single inch of skin that is revealed to him.
“Are you hungry?”
“Starved.” He admits, voice clearly strained and you grin at how needy he is just seeing your body partially exposed.
“Get on your knees.”
He drops down so quickly that you are sure it hurts his knees. You slip off the robe, let it pool around your feet and his hands are on your hips, he is dipping his head and moving so fast and you tell him, “Wait!”
He suppresses a whine, big brown eyes staring up at you, positively pleading and you lead him, commanding, “Slow down.”
Doing as directed he takes it slower, leans in, moving lower, his hand slides down your hip, over your ass, under your thigh he pulls, giving him more access to you. Lips meet near your knee and he starts to kiss up your inner thigh, looking up at you the entire time, gauging your reaction, waiting, hoping that you will give him the go ahead. "Please?"
"Please what?" You ask and he asks again, "Please let me eat you out? Let me make you cum. I'm dying, I need it-"
You let him squirm, wait until he is literally doing so, lips so close to where he wants and where you do too, when you finally say, “Go ahead.”
His mouth latches onto you so fucking fast.
You abandoned shame in regards to him eating you out before you can shower a long time ago. He seemed to love it much more that way, the reaction he has to the natural smell of you is as if he gets high on it, the taste of you better than any meal. That first swipe of his tongue through your folds he moans loudly, pornographic, desperate. Your leg ends up over his shoulder, your fingers buried in his hair as he settles in, finds his rhythm, he is so fucking good at this. He wants nothing more than to please you, to worship you, show all of the reverence a human being can solely with his tongue buried in your cunt.
A roll of your hips, grinding against his face, you pull on his hair, hard, he groans as you yank him nearer, bringing him closer. He loves to tongue fuck you and his enthusiasm makes you love it too, him trying to get himself as deep as he can in you while you grind your engorged clit against his nose, the pleasure spikes with every push of your hips and flex of his tongue. Your head falls back as you moan his name and his head is swimming, he is painfully hard in his jeans, aching, trying to keep breathing but he wants to please you more. You fucking his face like this makes it no easy task but he doesn’t care, he just wants you to cum on his face, it’s more important than air.
He feels how you pulse on his tongue, getting wetter, leaking down his chin, you shiver, tugging on his hair, panting and moans getting louder and louder. He feels light headed, he isn’t giving up, he works harder, he takes your direction further. You lead him, jerking his head up by his hair, he sucks your clit deeply and he can tell you are nearly there, close to cumming in front of the door of your apartment.
“Ethan, fuck, such a good boy, m’ so-so close. Don’t stop!” You rush it out on a single exhale, you gasp after that, back starting to arch and he knows, it is almost like he can feel it, feel your impending orgasm, as if it is giving him pleasure too, his tied to yours.
Bucking his own hips as he sucks and licks. It hurts, he needs to get his pants open but he is helping support you, he can’t let you fall or lose your orgasm, not after all this hard work, he just can’t, it’s unthinkable. He is grinding against the seam of his jeans and the zipper, it hurts but the stimulation even if it is painful, it isn’t all hurt, the undercurrent of pleasure and pressure, the sounds you make, your taste and you being so near to your end does it.
He overflows in more ways than one.
He cries, tears spill down his cheeks from his own release happening in his pants, overstimulating, achy and unsatisfying as well as the lack of air. The load is impressive, his underwear feels uncomfortably plastered to his skin but he doesn’t think of any of that. He is focused on you, the fact that you are now cumming on his tongue at the tail end of his own ruined orgasm. You are panting out his name and he wishes he could have that on a tape to listen to on repeat. He loves how you say his name as you draw out every ounce of your climax on his tongue.
You finally, finally come down, your hips stop, you aren’t grinding now, no longer fucking his face, sucking down a deep breath trying to regain some composure. He gasps for air and it makes you look down at him for the first time in several minutes, his face is soaked. Slick, drool, tears, lips parted, hair a wreck, he looks blissed out and totally happy, the definition of pussy drunk.
“Awe my poor little crybaby.” You say fondly around a laugh, light, musical, your leg comes down off his shoulder, confident you can stand on your own legs safely, “You okay honey?”
He nods, your hand slips from his hair and goes down his face, you cup his cheek and he leans into your touch, half smile on his face as he noses against your palm. Your thumb swipes over his bottom lip before you tilt his chin up, “You did amazing, you want your turn now?”
His eyes had closed in contentment from you touching him but upon you saying that they fly back open, “Uhh, no, no I’m okay-”
He shifts and you notice he looks uncomfortable and that is when you catch the wet spot on his jeans. You could tease him, you could be mean, instead you offer, “You wanna join me in the shower?”
Ethan jumps at the chance. He doesn’t know what he will change into after the shower but getting to help you clean up and the prospect that maybe he can go back down for seconds makes any other thought impossible.
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