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NOW THISS IS A TRUE WORK OF ART!!!!! I AM IN DESPERATE NEED OF A PART TWO!!
Pure Instinct
Symbiote! Miguel O'Hara x Spiderwoman! Reader
Art by Lenin Francis Yu
WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Preying behaviors, bickering, ambiguous relationships, breeding kink, objectification, creampies, Monster fucking, overstimulation, prey/hunter dynamics, mentions of period. Canon places, Not proofread.
Summary: A little guest from another dimension has a penchant for ovulation.
Another one for the Miguelverse
Special thanks to this nonny for the wonderful idea ❤️❤️
If you had to hear another word about world domination or how mistaken your views as a hero from another anomaly were, you'd surely rip your hair out.
Miguel delivered the last kick on Doc Oc's variant while you handled the trap.
"God, I swear if he keeps talking about the fucking sun on his hands-"
"Can you shut up and help?!" Miguel grunted as one of the villain's tentacles squeezed his skull, with the intention of leaving his head a bloody pulp, while slamming him against a wall.
"On it! " With a huff you shot your webs and kicked Doc Oc's spine, earning a pained growl from the man, but it was enough distraction for Miguel to pull his talons out and slice through metal and wire in a vicious outburst, destroying the tentacles in several rubble pieces.
With a kick and punch combo, Dr. Octavius was stunted. Miguel's webs tied the remaining automated limbs.
"Lyla, we've got him. Prepare the cell."
The little quiet gave you a bit of peace, bit it was quickly interrupted by the dull cramps on your lower belly.
You had to support on a nearby wall and exhale as another stab was delivered to your insides. If there was something worse than having your period, was being a spiderwoman and having your period.
Heightened senses made everything to be felt tenfold. Miguel's mask disappeared and he threw a brief glance your way before securing the area and pick up the anomaly.
"You alright?"
"Yeah just... Wished my uterus wouldn't have a penchant for committing harakiri every fucking month."
His brow quirked and he pressed some buttons to open the portal back to HQ. Dr. Octavius chuckled.
"You'd need a tantō for that."
"What do you think it feels like, dumbass?"
His lid twitched at your brazen disrespect, but ignored it. The least he wanted was to keep wasting time and prolonging the anomaly's staying in this dimension too long.
But the little conversation was more than enough to create a distraction. Doc Oc pounced on Miguel with his bare hands, securing his steely grip on his watch before pushing him through the portal.
"Shit!" Despite the pain you didn't hesitate to jump after them. You shot a web to gain impulse and kick the villain's head before his fist collided with Miguel's face, but this Octavius seemed prone to a greater resistance.
He punched back on your stomach, blowing all air out of your lungs through a choked wheeze.
"Play nice!" Miguel growled before connecting a powerful uppercut underneath Otto's jaw as the latter used the marred machine as a weapon, creating a set of cuts on Miguel's arm.
The mass of fighting limbs and bodies went through different universes, thanks to the code error to finally land in a foreign looking land.
You fell on the floor with a hard thud, unable to stand due the waves of pain that subdued you remorselessly.
Miguel howevee had grown tired and punched Otto on the side of his face, repeatedly until the villain remained unconscious on the floor.
Miguel's attention quickly diverted to his watch that sputtered in sparks and electric jolts.
"Ay por Dios... Lo que faltaba." His hand immediately rubbed his face, annoyed.
You on the other hand had barely mustered some energies to stand up.
"Fuck..." you whimpered and held your lower belly, as a crawl rolled down your spine upon glaring mistrustful at the alien-like features of the dimension. "Where are we?"
"Earth 616, known as Klyntar." Lyla quipped from your watch before glitching next to Miguel.
The foliage was nothing alike, not even the local fawn. All seemed to be doused in a black goo, that if you looked closer you could swear it moved on its own.
The flower's leafs were either exactly that or white sturdy spines that resembled teeths. As if the plant had a set of elongated teeth that protruded on each petal.
Long and sturdy spines that crawled in twisted spirals in whatever surface they touched. The sky was like glancing at a sunset. But unlike it's pretty hues of pastels, the fiery red and orange and yellows took over. Like if witnessing the very sun burning before you, yet it was cold. Eerily cold.
"Yeah, no. Can we... can we go home? Please? Don't wanna remain another second in one of Stephen King's wetdreams."
"I'm on it, signal over here is quite hard to get." Lyla glitched in several spots, trying to get a proper reception for her data
Miguel secured Otto entirely this time, and as he popped some joints back, you couldn't help but shoot at the sentient goo that was already crawling up his ankle and hand. His face contorted into a scowl before seeing the black puddle scurrying away from him, crawling within the dense alien foliage.
His face scrunched in disgust to then haul Octavius on his shoulder.
"What the hell was that?!"
"A symbiote. Amorphous creatures, I'm still trying to get a full on scan on what they are made of." Lyla's excitement would've been contagious if it wasn't for the icky feeling the whole place gave in it's already bizarre layout.
"Parasites, that's what they are."
Miguel mumbled gruffly as he crossed the portal, you followed. Otto was put in a cell. And you went to your dimension for a much needed break.
The boss himself went back to his base, ready to get lost in the many upcoming reports his way, ignoring the sudden itch that seeped through his body.
----
Dread crept in your head the closer you got to Miguel's office. The past weeks have been nothing but chaos in the Spider Society.
Anomalies doubling their presence, canon events bein6 almost disrupted, the cafeteria food lowering their quality and Miguel...
Oh no.
The main reason you were nauseous with anxiety as you entered in the threshold of his lab.
Not only your favorite leader and almost lover had been insufferable, but snappier, less tolerating towards Bullshit and mistakes, to the point of believing himself allergic to them. Cause they got him in such a mood the rest rather go to Jessica to report. Even to Peter.
And things were awful if people started to come to Peter for giving reports.
Sometimes you could hear him grumbling spanish nonsense to none but himself. With a deep sigh and a silent prayer to whoever above for you to not be killed in the go, you surpassed the doorframe.
As soon as you did the subtle tinge in your spider senses, thrummed through your body. A shaky breath was trapped on the state of his lab. Nothing but a mix of pitch black darkness and the red, ominous glow from the screens, barely illuminating his way, and outlining his heaving figure.
"Miguel?"
Your voice taunted and beady crimson eyes immediately locked on you.
"Here's the reports from last week. They're already done-"
Your throat gulped involuntarily upon picking up the ragged pants and heaves exhaling from his trembling mouth.
"Leave." he grunted and you frowned. He wasn't only a pain in the ass but a walking contradiction. How he wanted things done asap if he didn't even bother to take a look?
You were about to protest but a pained and shaky whimper from him, alerted you.
"You want me to leave when you're probably injur-"
"Fucking Leave!"
He roared, more concerned of what might happen if you didn't do exactly as you were being told.
"Mig..." Your eyes widened as he wheezed on the floor, the same black goo you saw back at Klyntar, was engulfing your sometimes lover at an alarming rate, that had Miguel grunting and growling as the amorphous creature fought to swallow him whole. But as you stepped closer he hissed your way, stopping you.
"I-I can smell you." He seethed through clenched teeth, struggling to remain in control of his words alone. But the statement made your brows furrow in disbelief. Hands rose in defense as you approached a step closer, to try and get the sentient slime out of him.
"The hell? I took a shower today you ass!." You mumbled while getting Lyla to fetch the Spider doc to the lab, trying to keep him grounded. Your spider senses tingled louder and harder the more you saw him fight against the thing.
"Not that kind of smell, you foolish woman."
But the sudden change of tone made you shiver. It wasn't him speaking, but something more eldritch and dern that finally managed to swallow him whole and overlapped it's voice with his.
The squishing noise ended in a lurid gurgle as a massive and dark figure stood before you. Breathing as if learning the proper way to inhale it for the first time. Drunk in the very air you exhaled, oozing with pheromones.
"M-Miguel?"
Miguel was big, but not this behemoth of a creature, crawling in it's own skin made out of abyss and darkness, in which chest remained your boss' spider emblem, fiery and bright red, like if fire itself emanated from within.
"I can smell you, little spider"
It took a moment for you to understand the implications of such words. You knew in this specific part of your cycle pheromones turned a bit more pungent. A reason why you remained in your dimension.
Even though colorless, the creature's eyes narrowed in a leering and borderline predatory glare towards you.
For every step forward he did, you took two back
"I gotta... Uh-" Your politeness melted into a pool as soon as the dangerous set of sharp teeth stretched over his lips, revealing a twisted wolfish grin that would put any creature to shame.
Your senses reached the peak of their alarmed state with a single thought.
Run.
Your feet didn't need to be told twice as they took you away from the creature's presence. An underworld roar echoed within Miguel's station.
You didn't know if it was a good or a bad idea. But it mattered little when the creature, the symbiote, chased after you. The earth trembled and echoed with every powerful lunge he gave.
You jumped through a window, and swung through the buildings and cars, throwing an occasional load of webs to slow him down that proved a nuisance if anything.
"Run, little spider, RUN!"
The ominous laugh echoed through the night. He jumped through structures, following the delicious scent you left behind.
If Miguel could recall, he had been studying symbiotes ever since the web of life showed him the many bad turns a Spider could take. He knew they were nasty creatures when finding a proper host.
Vicious and harmful parasites that did nothing but corrupt, if the host's willpower was weak. What Miguel couldn't decide yet was if he was being corrupted for giving in into his need to mate, or if the parasite had made him bigger, faster and more powerful because he knew he needed to mate, accepting his current emotions and feeding the creature's crave with them.
And your pheromones and stress only added another delicious smell to the list. The phenethylamine running rampant in your brain made his heightened senses to tingle in wicked delight.
His smile only grew wider.
With a powerful lurch, he jumped through buildings to finally catch you mid air before you shot your web again. His whole hand wrapped around you while he held you tightly over the building's ledge.
Bit by bit the row of sharp teeth appeared within his mask, to unleash his serpent like and slimy tongue out that, didn't waste a second longer and took a taste of your skin by licking your cheek.
"Let Miguel go!"
Voice firm, although your hands quivered while trying to pry yourself out of his steely grasp.
"Let him go?" Miguel laughed, but you knew this wasn't your Miguel.
Was he?
He wasn't harming you, if anything he was just licking your neck with that abnormally large tongue of his
"He's the one in control, spiderling."
The goo spreaded around you, like tiny and sentient webs that grope and tangled around your inner thighs, up your abdomen, breast and arms, swallowing your body, like it did with Miguel.
The ones around your arms secured their grip around your wrist, pulling and locking the limbs immediately behind your back.
Your little cries only ebbed him to inch closer to your face, the web extensions grope tighter, suffocating your suit.
Miguel's sharp talon slid softly on the fabric, giving the creature the perfect chance to rip the remaining linens to shreds off.
A yelp was drowned as his long tongue slid in within your mouth. Coiling and twisting on yours, subjugating the wet muscle effortlessly.
Your eyes clamped shut upon feeling the same sensation in your nipples.
The symbiote's biomass had split and smaller versions of his mouth appeared to immediately latch on each of your nipples.
With half lidded eyes and a swirling mind, your body squirmed at the delicious sensations running rampant through each cell that composed your form.
You were allowed to breath as the symbiote pulled his tongue out. Within seconds you were flipped upside down, head dipping into the abyss of buildings and landscapes underneath.
For a second you thought you'd fall down, but the steely grip in your body was foolproof. Monstrous hands spreaded your supple thighs open, your skin crawled with the deep, demonic growl grumbling in his chest upon taking a deep inhale of your cunt.
You could see him relish in it, as his salivation increased. Tongue teased by taking a deliberate slow lick on your folds.
"Y-You'll let me f-Nnghh!-"
Your teeth clenched in an acute whimper but eventually a shaky and loud gasp came out of your throat as Miguel or rather the symbiote plunged his tongue inside your heat with ease. Slimy texture tasted and twisted within.
His tongue curled and slurped your insides vehemently, tearing lovely and desperate cries from your pretty mouth. Composure cracked with each second as the tiny mouths sucked and kissed your nipples like no tomorrow. As if coaxing the dormant milk out of them was their main and only mission.
The symbiote lapped and gulped down the juices that soaked his tongue. You mewled and moaned, completely lost in the drowning debauchery the creature provided. His tongue felt heavenly as it slithered and fucked your insides with such viciousness you could feel your tightness trembling and succumbing to his corruption game.
The neglect in your body was catching up to his ministrations. It bent and twisted like putty into his mutated hands. A streak of drool oozed from the corner of your mouth as you gifted his ears with your sweet pathetic little cries.
Clit throbbed the more he pressed and curled his tongue against your cervix, teasing it nonstop.
You shouldn't enjoy it. You couldn't be enjoying it, but here you were, secretly begging him to keep going, to quench that urge flooding your rationality even if it ruined you.
Miguel ate like no other, that was much true, but this dark mass of living alien goo had your walls spasming and milking around him, and your brain synapses crazy with raw delight.
And when he had enough of your sweet cunt, the biomass etched you to his chest. To then jump out the ledge and land into a darkened area from another building.
His body spat you on the floor, but quickly propped you on your feet. His darkened giggles crawled underneath your skin, to then gasp as his hand crushed your frame against the thick glass. Hot pants echoed in a foggy cloud on the sheer surface, chest flattened against the sturdy crystal while your arms remained locked behind you. His fingers immediately pulled back your hair, arching your flexible spine to look up at him.
"Such a needy little spider"
His tongue licked your lips, the mouths latched once more in your nipples, earning him nothing but a exquisite sob
"So eager to be ruined."
Deep within your alarms flared upon feeling something hard and twitching behind you, at first you thought of it nothing but another extention of his mutated form until it positioned right in your drenched hole.
A pant turned into a wheeze as his broad tip pushed in, easing inch by inch.
Your eyes rolled back at the obscene size of his invading cock, stretching and molding your walls to his girth.
A choked gurgle came out of your gaping pit, panting for a much needed gulp of air. Your toes barely touched the ground as he bottomed deep, bulging and pulsing proudly inside your womb.
Your brain was turned into nothing but a puddle, swirling inside your head with every breath the creature behind you exhaled, all while he embedded and trapped you against the wall with his monstrous frame and cock.
The Symbiote's hand held your hips firmly, guiding you up and down with powerful yet paused strokes on himself, like a life sized fleshlight. Making sure your walls learned and memorized every curve and tangent of his twitching cock while receiving him whole with a wet squelch.
"S'big-" you wheezed with half lidded eyes, struggling to remain aware and sane. But how could you achieve such feat when air was lacking in your lungs and your brain tingled with the underlying need to procreate. You were in the peak of your fertile days.
And him was more than willing to give you exactly what you needed. Symbiote, Miguel, it didn't matter anymore who plowed you. You truly couldn't care less.
"Enough games." the creature seethed and with a tighter grip on your hair, he smacked your hips in a powerful thrust, knocking out all remaining air in your burning lungs. Then another and another and-
Oh god
You came. And came hard, clenching ever tight around him in violent and ruthless spasms. Shaky mewls and pleas turned into slurred screams but that didn't stop him. Your toes curled in.
His smile twisted upwards, before shoving it's tongue back in your throat as his hips begun ramming in a merciless tempo. Obliterating any remnants of common sense in your frying and overriding brain.
Good was too weak to actually describe the feeling. Something too raw, too vicious, viscerally inexpressible, like the unceasing whomps of his hips. Like, him.
Your mouth was unable to properly vocalize the searing heat the Symbiote's lust stirred within. Chipping away your need to stop him and simply take his swollen and pulsating cock the many times he pressed in.
Cause in truth, what else could you do but take it? To take it fast and remorselessly deep, with no signs of him stopping. Not when his snarls rumbled behind and his hot breath fanned over your face and neck. The mouths on your breast removed themselves with a pop, leaving your nipples puffed and swollen
Tears pooled in the inner corner of your lids, and soon slid down on each side of your cheek. Your voice was reduced to nothing but meek grunts and hushed breaths, to finally dissolve into a stuttering groan as your eyes widened at the hefty load of his seed being shot deep. Hot and spurting directly in your womb.
Your eyes rolled back as he pressed imposibly deep, overfilling you. His frame trembled upon sensing your womb trapping him, drinking and swallowing greedily every last of his drops, choking him exquisitely. A satisfied and animal-like growl rumbled through his chest.
But it wasn't enough.
His tongue pulled out of your throat, letting you have some air as a reward for withstanding him.
Your arms were numb, like your mind, legs too lightweight to support your whole frame. Too fucked out and overstimulated to articulate a proper word as you slumped against the glass wall that fogged in every weak breath exhaled.
Miguel's eyes raked over your body and smirked proudly. The dark and living webs fetched your quivering figure.
His eyes remained on your leaking hole and pushed all the escaping cum back inside with his slimy tongue.
"It needs to be inside" He grunted and pressed your head against the floor, while his webs spreaded your hips again.
Ass up high, he buried deep once again, earning a sweet and needy scream and some of his cum to spurt out in the floor in a lecherous splatter, pooling underneath your poor bouncing hips.
The rough and rhythmic slap slap slap deafened your pleas and begs. Your breast bounced at the wicked beat of his pistoning hips. Throat scrapped raw, breathless. Eyes glossy, too gone to a dark place where he was the undisputed sovereign.
"You spiderlings are so fragile" The symbiote smirked while his hand held your head in place.
"Miguel-"
His name was repeated over and over, like if you were learning it for the first time. Clit throbbed with such intensity it had your head shaking. Fighting to keep your sanity intact as his heavy balls slapped whatever skin they could reach.
"Can't-" you grunted between clenched teeth, eyes danced erratically, like your blown breaths. Your knuckles and toes turned white at the sheer pressure you held them in.
"You can't what?" The overlapping mirthful voices sent another painful throb in your punished pussy, "Is it too much for you?"
The brief and sadistic laugh echoed through the skies.
"How weak."
With a snarl and a deep plow, he sheathed, the webs lifted you and curled you on your own to see how his enormous cock buried inside and pulsated.
Thick and throbbing veins adorned his base, every contraction meant more hot spurts of his seed, flooding your already stuffed womb.
There was no sound from you this time. Your brain had shut off and you laid limp, on the floor, quivering and twitching at the minimum graze of air. The webs around your wrist were loosened, freeing your tingling arms.
The little puddle of cum kept growing underneath the more your muscles spasmed and contracted.
"Ten"
Your breath hitched, while trying to get up.
"Nine."
He sung and you whimpered, crawling away from him.
"Eight"
Your legs didn't move but rather quiver. It was amusing for him to see you gasp while trying to stand.
"Seven"
"W-Wait" You mumbled, feeling the remnants of pleasure toying with your mind.
Part of you knew that if you stayed, he'd destroy you completely, but if you go, you'd gain a bit more of time to let your body heal enough to withstand another round.
"Six."
You tried shooting a web. But nothing came out.
"C'mon!"
"Five"
A chill ran down your spine as you slapped your wrist, finally mustering some strength to stand up with wobbly legs. Your nakedness didn't matter, not when a symbiote had taken over your boss, corrupting him to the point of him playing the mouse and cat through the city.
"Four" He tittered with malice.
And finally you managed to shoot some. Naked or not you supported on the wall to catch some air before shooting again and swinging.
"Three"
He watched you go after covering your bits to spare you some shame in case someone saw you. But quickly frowned when disappearing through a portal.
The symbiote however left Miguel's body to latch on his back. His eyes held a different gleam, teeth sharper.
Soon, his seed would work, but he had to make sure your womb harbored enough of him so his future seedling grew.
"Lyla, where is she?"
"Back in her dimension-"
He cut her off before she kept talking. The alien goo swallowed him whole again, regaining his gigantic frame.
"One."
The hunt was on.
“It’s the plumber. He’s come to fix the sink. He’s a professional. Of course he has all the right tools in all the right places.” Why was all of this so difficult for Chris to grasp?
Brad then informed Chris the bill for the Electric Company came. They needed to add a tip because, if Chris remembered, “that guy wasn’t wearing a belt so there was no place to put the money.”
Chris’ memory kicked in. “Was that the guy who kept your $20 bill clenched between his butt cheeks for twenty minutes? THAT was impressive.”
Brad then informed Chris it was actually him that performed the money trick. It was when their neighbor Luke came over for late night hot dogs and a shake. It was his money but not a $20 nor even American money for that matter. It was a random Canadian $50 slipped in his g-string while stripping a few nights prior. Brad kept it for dance practice as he knew the little plastic windows helped keep the money in place when you begin to sweat. “It was a bit like training wheels for a bicycle.”
Brad then said he had not yet offered the Canadian $50 for dance practice as he knew Chris was working on yo-yo bits. He then once again expressed his concern for anything with a string for a go-go boy at a gay club that didn’t involve ‘G’ before coming full circle. “The electric guy was the one working everyone’s nipples, and that was either earlier that same day or the morning after.”
Chris thanked Brad for the explanation. Things understandably got blurry in the arena when gorgeous and 22. He, like Brad, was getting tired of being labeled shallow for both being attractive and for his attractiveness attracting more of it. Brad was not above the law nor made the claim. That whole concept never made sense anyway. There was no law of ‘repulsion’ or ‘handsomeness.’ “What was all that attraction hullabaloo?”
Brad agreed. “What would be shallow would be holding on to 22 instead of being it.” Like the beef hamburger, youth was in reality unsustainable. One could buy about ten years with the current line up of alternatives, but in the end, there is exactly that somewhere. “Even ‘forever’ ends. It does so with an ‘R’. None of it a secret either. Why did everyone think Brad and Chris were different people entirely in every blog post? Few can afford the surgery or that kind of lighting.”
Brad then paused before addressing Chris’ query as to the circus of books. “Marketing. You called it with ‘hullabaloo’ just now. When you get the masses in a flurry over something they already know, people seeking power will hire you.” Brad then mentioned in hindsight, Luke’s shake was pretty good. He wasn’t expecting that.
Chris nodded, smiled and then sighed suggesting they tip well. The gays still needed to look out for each other citing another brash of censorship to their blog by Tumblr that continued the spin in favor of bots instead of holding a conversation. He then asked Brad if his money trick really was that. Canadian money looked like Monopoly money. “Was it really real?”
Brad didn’t know suggesting maybe that’s what made it a ‘trick.’ What he did know was that clenching anything with your butt for that long and pulling off ‘sexy’ regardless of age or appearance, proved to be a real skill.
The plummer chimed in abruptly to agree. “Sexy butt clenching was as real as was living in L.A. It was a lot of work to make it there and more to freeze it all in place.” The plummer went on to explain the real skill there was to, “somehow grow old ‘naturally’ while exhausticated and shot up with plastic. To that end, plastic was very real. It’s always been real in real life anyway. You guys are natives to L.A. right?”
Brad and Chris nodded in affirmation.
The plumber then questioned if it was the plastic windows in Canadian money where the weird vibe from their Northern neighbors was coming from. “There was something fishy about a nation that didn’t just play on ice, but actually enjoyed it when it fell from the sky.”
All three let out a quiet shiver at the thought of an entire country filled with frozen fish. The plumber immediately apologized then removed his utility belt. It felt appropriate and it was. Naturally, the fish swam away.
Just The Fashion Tip #39: Use minimum fabric for maximum vibes.
Just the Fashion Tip #1436
When doing curls at the gym never underestimate the importance of form-fitting.
Yes. That’s form followed by fitting with both words working in tandem. Got that? Most people forget the ‘fitting.’ It is such an amateur move.
Ok. Let’s concentrate now.
Hey …Is that Slater from Saved By The Bell?
Tight look
TW: guns, CNC, blood, and degradation - read on at your own risk. NO MINORS!
**I am life long gun owner & an aggressive advocate for gun safety & operate under RACK. Do NOT play with guns my Lovelies… unless you damn well know what you’re doing at all times.**
Il trying to decide between which of two scenarios to enact first:
1. You know you’re in trouble so you, sorry little pup that you are, strip down at the bedroom door; hoping to distract my ire in some small way. It doesn’t work, I don’t even acknowledge you and continue to load the first, then second and third clips. You drop to your knees and crawl to me, stopping at the bottom of the bed and wait & wait & wait until I’m done. I look at you for a long moment, my expression as cold & hard as the steel in my lap.
Setting aside two of the clips, I slide the third one home and chamber a round. My thumb playing with the safety, the only sound in the room as I watch you watching me. You scoot a bit closer, up along the side of the bed and whimper softly, an attempt at further apologies. Within reach now, I trace the barrel up the side of your neck, along your jaw line, over your chin to your lips.
“Open…” and slip the cold steel between your parted lips as you swallow hard; eyes wide, uncertain, scared and excited at the same time - you can’t tell if the safety is off or on. “Suck me off til I cum you pathetic excuse for a Pet & we’ll see if you can earn another goddamn chance, another fucking pass, another useless day.”
2. You let yourself in, the house is unusually dark - no lights of welcome wait for you over the kitchen stove, living room, or that you can see upstairs. The hunt is on, so to speak … are you staying or leaving?
You make your way through the shadows from the garage door towards the stairs; as you pass by kitchen you might catch sense of movement before I’m on you. I growl softly, almost a laugh, pushing you forward so you stumble so I can bend you over the arm of couch, shoving your face into the cushion so your delayed yelp of surprise is muffled as you feel cold steel tip of the barrel just below your ear.
“You’re trespassing…” you try to push back - the urge to fight, to survive outweighing common sense, to stand up or get away & plead, to breath as you’re smothering against the cushion; but I’m taller, stronger, angry & in control as I grip your hair and your hear the soft click of the safety, up down up down up again. “Trespassers are nothing but toys to use, to break, and to throw away. I’m going to enjoy splitting you apart before I get rid of you.”
You wiggle beneath my grip, muffled words that I can only assume are pleadings turn to a whimper as I press my body against yours to hold you still; you can feel the length of my largest, thickest cock against your ass and thigh through our clothing.
Just looking to get sucked by Satan or a pretty little Demon.
Oh, what I’d give right now to take a nap in my favourite sheets, lying on my tummy in a soft top and skimpy panties that'd feel so good against my skin, one leg all hitched up so I could rub myself against the sheets juuust that little bit, just to keep that tiny spark of arousal going, getting all fuzzy from being wet and sleepy.
I bet I’d dream of you, dream of you finally getting home, of you seeing how good I’ve been, seeing how ready I am for you, just from thinking about you.
I bet you’d smell me by the time you’d finally walk into the room, heady and intoxicating, and you’d remember what I tasted like when you made me scream from your tongue just the night before. You can smell me right now, can’t you?
You’d chuckle, knowing how dilated my pupils must’ve been when I put on those panties to lie down, seeing my pussy peeking out of them all puffy and rosy.
I bet you’d take your sweet time making sure everything is the way it’s supposed to be, making sure I was good and did what you asked me to do before you went out. You’d be pleased to see how well I did but even more pleased to see one tiny mistake, not even hidden too well, in the middle of the living room. You know exactly what I need, always, don’t you?
So I know that you’d make your way to the bedroom, quietly, softly as not to wake me. You wouldn’t undress, you’d only open your belt, take out your cock, and start checking just how wet I am.
I’d be so swollen that my lips would be slightly parted, clit peeking out, blooming just for you what is usually perfectly hidden. You’d trace a finger through me to gather some slick, smearing it over your head, already red, already hard.
You’d take my cheeks in hand, you’d caress them, spread them apart, relish in the clicky-sounding smack my folds make when they are parted, all sticky. I’d shift my hips, my dream getting more intense, spreading myself apart for you in my haze.
You wouldn’t be able to keep yourself from licking me, just once, just to make sure I taste exactly like you remember, but I’d taste even better, wouldn’t I? Because I never cleaned myself up after taking your load just before you went out three hours ago. You didn’t have to ask me not to, I knew. I always know, don’t I? You’ve trained me well.
You’d take a moment to contemplate what to do, how to enjoy me, but in the end, you decide to be kind. You’d take my hips in hand, lift my butt just so and you’d caress my pussy with your cockhead, once, twice, before slowly pressing in, just the tip. Just the tip so you could revel in the hitch of my breath and my little moans, revel in the way I’d fidget in my sleep, accidentally fucking myself on your cock, back and forth with little twitches of my hips, massaging you so delicately.
You’d refrain from looking at where I’m slowly opening up around you, my entrance dragging back and forth, just to see my brows furrowed, to see my plush lips open around my gasps, to see my eyes flutter open. You’d groan seeing my confused look, my dumb brain not catching up, not understanding the sensations just yet.
You’d wait for the exact moment I’d meet your eyes before finally sinking home in one thrust, too deep, too fast, just how I like it. You wouldn’t wait for me to understand, wouldn’t even wait for me to gasp before starting to fuck me into me, rough, fast, loving the slick sounds of my cunt, my pleas of "s' too much, please" "no, no, don't" when you hit all the right places.
I’d squirm around you, trying to get away from the overwhelming feeling, confused still and sleepy, but you’d hold me in place, no effort at all, you’d pin me down with one hand on the small of my back and fuck and fuck and fuck into me until I’d be nothing but a teary mess, begging so sweetly, so desperately.
I’d be on the verge of coming and you’d know, you’d know because of how I’d clench and flutter around you, you'd know because of how my thighs would tense up, taut and how I’d be begging “please, please I need… I can’t… Sir, please let me, please, I’ve been so good Sir”. And you’d know that I don’t have permission to come.
You’d know and that is exactly why you’d choose that moment to pull out and slap my cunt so hard that I couldn’t help but come, and you’d chuckle at knowing that you’d ruined it by pulling out, ruined it by not saying a word, ruined it by not burying yourself deep into that pussy and shooting your load so violently I’d’ve come all over again.
Instead, you’d turn me around, grabbing your cock and stroking yourself to the view of my tears, my devastation and you’d come at the sight of my devotion, thick ropes covering my teary lashes and drooly lips, heaving softly.
“Good girl.”