She doesn't need a tadpole-to-tadpole connection to make her realise what he's thinking about right now, given that momentary glazed over look in his eyes as he looks at her, bent over like this.
Ea is no stranger to taking lovers, but at least her experiences had always been motivated by desire, and consensual. She can't imagine what sort of instincts were coded into his brain chemistry by that fucker he called a father, Bhaal, but she'd venture a guess - no need to roll for insight here - that it encouraged procreation.
Her reason for sticking to her potions as strictly as she has, especially since they've returned to the big city and she's found Bonecloak's Apothecary fully stocked, is that she doesn't want to bring more little Eas into the world. Ever. So she is a safe bet, at least, because even if those synapses fire off and make him want to fill her up, there will be no danger. (Sidebar, she might like it.)
She doesn't need to read his mind, but she feels the pull as soon as he rubs the length of his cock between her legs, over her labia. Not authority, but connection. Call it taking back control from the Emperor, from the illithids that infected them, from everything that's happened so far. She connects - and she shows him.
The images will do the talking. Him, buried deep in her slick pussy, bent over her back to kiss her shoulder, his hand on one of her horns. Him, using that towering stature to his advantage, keeping himself firmly rooted and keeping a gentle hold on her hair to tip her head back, and kiss her like this.
Then the images fizzle, the connection dissipates, and Ea rocks her hips back. "Need you. Please, need you inside. Need to be tight around your cock, love, please."
There is no containing the thrill of arousal that works through him as their tadpoles connect and she treats him to her thoughts. He's already fully hard, but by the time she's done with his mind, he's somehow harder. Much as he's enjoying feeling her quiver under his attention, he's keen enough for her to know what she's done to him too.
Lowering himself just enough to find what he's looking for, the moment his tip finds the soft warmth of her pussy, his hips rock forward. One smooth move and he's buried all the way inside her. Given how big he is, he's acutely aware of how she grips at his girth, her walls slick but tight and the pressure around him so pleasurable he takes a moment to just sit fully sheathed.
There are no words forthcoming, just the way he's filling her out completely and the grace period he gives her before he starts to move. Slow but deep. Wanting her to feel every inch of him in a way she hasn't done before.
It happens so fast, that even though she expects it, she can't anticipate the way it fries her brain to be so utterly full - nor how easily she takes it, in one smooth push, the sound of it slick enough that it rings in her ears like an echo. "Gods," she manages to gasp out when he's finally buried all the way in.
In the span of a second, she would compose several poems to how fantastic his cock is, how large, how good it feels, et cetera - except he starts to move.
She's a mess. She clasps her hands together (tail grasped between them) in filthy prayer, and ends up needing to rest her forehead against them. Pleasure ripples through her, it bolts up her spine, it turns her bones to liquid hit, it makes her tight and so very wet.
In the midst of all those slow, deep initial thrusts, she breathes out his name - the one they've only recently learned - just to try it out. Just because having a name means something, and it's better than being called by the dark thing that motivated your past actions. It's a supplication - there's a lot of religious metaphors happening right now, for two people fucking in an old, abandoned church.
Her body takes him as if they have always fit together in this manner, and it draws his arousal to such an intense point he slows after a few initial thrusts to compose himself. The name on her lips is a surprise, though not unpleasant. With everything else going on he can't completely identify how he feels about it, but he knows he enjoys something about it. Is it the way she says it, or that it's her saying it in the first place? He isn't certain and doesn't have the spare mental capacity to root out his feelings now.
Even as he's holding himself inside of her his hands move, fingers drawing from where he can reach the top of her spine all the way down towards where her tail starts. His view is exquisite, the way she's holding her tail up giving him the perfect line of sight to where they join together. His thumbs pry her cheeks apart, the base of his cock looking so snug where it is, her pussy still gripping tight around him and gets a first look at her winking arsehole looking so in need of attention too.
"Inviting," he murmurs as he keeps one cheek spread, his thumb gathering enough saliva from his mouth to drench it before dropping it to the tight pucker beneath her tail and teasing.
It feels incredible to think this is the first time they've ever slept together, really. He knows how to handle her body in ways that spell out a very familiar lover - or a very skilled one.
She hopes he becomes familiar. There's nothing about this encounter she wouldn't want to repeat.
The exchange of messages might have started with the strangest of topics, but this? This is heaven.
She doesn't just grip him, she is a constant pulse around his cock, as if she's already on the verge of coming and all he needs to do is fill her. And fuck her. The fucking is - she's got no words.
The only word is a moaned out "Yes," when she feels his thumb at the pucker of her arsehole. She lifts her head, a quiver runnning up the back of her legs. "Please, yes - take it." A beat, enough for her to suck in a breath. "Can I have you in every hole? Can you make me lose my mind a little?"
The way she talks to him sits so comfortably in the space between them. A way to grant his wish of hearing her, getting every little piece of feedback even between the moans of pleasure. He enjoys hearing her as much as he enjoys feeling her body, not least because he's intensely aware of how long he's wanted this. And equally aware of how long he's been afraid of this.
Her permission is the last thing he had stalled for, careful not to cross boundaries that weren't meant to be crossed. Her plea for more - to be filled so resolutely - falls so sweetly to his ears that he grunts his own pleasure. A perfect union between them, only getting better by the moment.
He pushes his thumb into her then, fingers wrapping around the base of her tail to keep his hand steady. Plunging his thumb into the equally tight heat of her arse is enough to have his arousal spike again, convinces him to keep still just for a fraction longer.
She feels his hand wrap around the base of tail and, with a drowned, lust-dizzy moan lets it go. It doesn't snake and wrap around his arm because she's not that dexterous - and the base of it isn't exactly thin - but gods, she loves him holding her tail so much.
His thumb breaches her and fills her, and it's not insubstantial - he's a very tall and broad man, and his hands feel made to match.
Does she enjoy being full? "Fuck yes, so much..." She doesn't groan it out, but she has to force the words out through moans, her head spinning.
She doesn't notice that she's started to grind down against him - his cock, his finger - in another attempt to get more.
She moves to grab onto the pew with one hand, reaching behind her to feel blindly where he has his thumb inside her, then down between her legs to feel where his cock fills her.
There's ample space he leaves as he watches her fingers reach around and feel up where they're joined. In fact he lets her feel as much as she'd like to, only moving when he thinks she might be about to take her hand back. Then he grasps her wrist, holding it in place behind her as he snaps his hips forward and hooks his thumb inside her to hold her.
Perhaps she's able to stop herself from going face first into the pew with just the one arm, but if not he's gripping her wrist tight enough not to allow enough slack. Regardless the simple motion extracts a sharp breath from him. Evidence that he's enjoying this. Evidence that he finds it just as hot as she does, even if his words aren't necessarily forthcoming.
He settles into something of a rhythm after that, his eyes drinking in the sight beneath him. The way her body is forced to rock forward with every slam of his hips against hers. Any noise she makes categorised and memorised as he fucks her in earnest. He won't last forever, not with the feeling of her so tight around him, but he doesn't think he needs to.
The grip she has on the pew is, at this point, the tips of her fingers grazing the rotten down wood, arm stretched out so she can catch herself if she absolutely has to. But she's his, she's all his. He has a grip on her arm and those thrusts are driving her to the edge of an orgasm with every push forward.
It feels like he's splitting her in half, and you can throw her in horny jail because this is just her type, honestly. Something to make her walk funny tomorrow. Between the restraints, the finger in her arsehole acting like a hook, his relentless pace - they fill the chapel with all sorts of frantic sounds. Her panted breaths, the sounds of skin slapping skin, the squelching slickness of her cunt, her moans and his grunts.
He doesn't need to last longer, because Ea sure as fuck doesn't. It feels like an eternity, but it is at best a few minutes of that intense pace before she gives up trying to catch herself and just brings that hand down to slap her clit a few times. That's the last edge she needs, and she shatters with a sharp and breathless cry, coming hard and wet and messy.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2024-09-03 11:33 am (UTC)Ea is no stranger to taking lovers, but at least her experiences had always been motivated by desire, and consensual. She can't imagine what sort of instincts were coded into his brain chemistry by that fucker he called a father, Bhaal, but she'd venture a guess - no need to roll for insight here - that it encouraged procreation.
Her reason for sticking to her potions as strictly as she has, especially since they've returned to the big city and she's found Bonecloak's Apothecary fully stocked, is that she doesn't want to bring more little Eas into the world. Ever. So she is a safe bet, at least, because even if those synapses fire off and make him want to fill her up, there will be no danger. (Sidebar, she might like it.)
She doesn't need to read his mind, but she feels the pull as soon as he rubs the length of his cock between her legs, over her labia. Not authority, but connection. Call it taking back control from the Emperor, from the illithids that infected them, from everything that's happened so far. She connects - and she shows him.
The images will do the talking. Him, buried deep in her slick pussy, bent over her back to kiss her shoulder, his hand on one of her horns. Him, using that towering stature to his advantage, keeping himself firmly rooted and keeping a gentle hold on her hair to tip her head back, and kiss her like this.
Then the images fizzle, the connection dissipates, and Ea rocks her hips back. "Need you. Please, need you inside. Need to be tight around your cock, love, please."
no subject
Date: 2024-09-03 10:17 pm (UTC)Lowering himself just enough to find what he's looking for, the moment his tip finds the soft warmth of her pussy, his hips rock forward. One smooth move and he's buried all the way inside her. Given how big he is, he's acutely aware of how she grips at his girth, her walls slick but tight and the pressure around him so pleasurable he takes a moment to just sit fully sheathed.
There are no words forthcoming, just the way he's filling her out completely and the grace period he gives her before he starts to move. Slow but deep. Wanting her to feel every inch of him in a way she hasn't done before.
no subject
Date: 2024-09-04 02:02 pm (UTC)In the span of a second, she would compose several poems to how fantastic his cock is, how large, how good it feels, et cetera - except he starts to move.
She's a mess. She clasps her hands together (tail grasped between them) in filthy prayer, and ends up needing to rest her forehead against them. Pleasure ripples through her, it bolts up her spine, it turns her bones to liquid hit, it makes her tight and so very wet.
In the midst of all those slow, deep initial thrusts, she breathes out his name - the one they've only recently learned - just to try it out. Just because having a name means something, and it's better than being called by the dark thing that motivated your past actions. It's a supplication - there's a lot of religious metaphors happening right now, for two people fucking in an old, abandoned church.
no subject
Date: 2024-09-07 03:53 pm (UTC)Even as he's holding himself inside of her his hands move, fingers drawing from where he can reach the top of her spine all the way down towards where her tail starts. His view is exquisite, the way she's holding her tail up giving him the perfect line of sight to where they join together. His thumbs pry her cheeks apart, the base of his cock looking so snug where it is, her pussy still gripping tight around him and gets a first look at her winking arsehole looking so in need of attention too.
"Inviting," he murmurs as he keeps one cheek spread, his thumb gathering enough saliva from his mouth to drench it before dropping it to the tight pucker beneath her tail and teasing.
no subject
Date: 2024-09-07 04:50 pm (UTC)She hopes he becomes familiar. There's nothing about this encounter she wouldn't want to repeat.
The exchange of messages might have started with the strangest of topics, but this? This is heaven.
She doesn't just grip him, she is a constant pulse around his cock, as if she's already on the verge of coming and all he needs to do is fill her. And fuck her. The fucking is - she's got no words.
The only word is a moaned out "Yes," when she feels his thumb at the pucker of her arsehole. She lifts her head, a quiver runnning up the back of her legs. "Please, yes - take it." A beat, enough for her to suck in a breath. "Can I have you in every hole? Can you make me lose my mind a little?"
no subject
Date: 2024-09-07 07:35 pm (UTC)Her permission is the last thing he had stalled for, careful not to cross boundaries that weren't meant to be crossed. Her plea for more - to be filled so resolutely - falls so sweetly to his ears that he grunts his own pleasure. A perfect union between them, only getting better by the moment.
He pushes his thumb into her then, fingers wrapping around the base of her tail to keep his hand steady. Plunging his thumb into the equally tight heat of her arse is enough to have his arousal spike again, convinces him to keep still just for a fraction longer.
"You enjoy being full like this?"
no subject
Date: 2024-09-07 07:49 pm (UTC)His thumb breaches her and fills her, and it's not insubstantial - he's a very tall and broad man, and his hands feel made to match.
Does she enjoy being full? "Fuck yes, so much..." She doesn't groan it out, but she has to force the words out through moans, her head spinning.
She doesn't notice that she's started to grind down against him - his cock, his finger - in another attempt to get more.
She moves to grab onto the pew with one hand, reaching behind her to feel blindly where he has his thumb inside her, then down between her legs to feel where his cock fills her.
"Gods...this is so hot..."
no subject
Date: 2024-09-08 05:36 pm (UTC)Perhaps she's able to stop herself from going face first into the pew with just the one arm, but if not he's gripping her wrist tight enough not to allow enough slack. Regardless the simple motion extracts a sharp breath from him. Evidence that he's enjoying this. Evidence that he finds it just as hot as she does, even if his words aren't necessarily forthcoming.
He settles into something of a rhythm after that, his eyes drinking in the sight beneath him. The way her body is forced to rock forward with every slam of his hips against hers. Any noise she makes categorised and memorised as he fucks her in earnest. He won't last forever, not with the feeling of her so tight around him, but he doesn't think he needs to.
no subject
Date: 2024-09-10 04:10 pm (UTC)It feels like he's splitting her in half, and you can throw her in horny jail because this is just her type, honestly. Something to make her walk funny tomorrow. Between the restraints, the finger in her arsehole acting like a hook, his relentless pace - they fill the chapel with all sorts of frantic sounds. Her panted breaths, the sounds of skin slapping skin, the squelching slickness of her cunt, her moans and his grunts.
He doesn't need to last longer, because Ea sure as fuck doesn't. It feels like an eternity, but it is at best a few minutes of that intense pace before she gives up trying to catch herself and just brings that hand down to slap her clit a few times. That's the last edge she needs, and she shatters with a sharp and breathless cry, coming hard and wet and messy.