april
1st Level Red Feather
- Joined
- Dec 16, 2006
- Messages
- 1,199
- Points
- 63
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Sylus
You dont rush. God's no.You savour.
Straddling his waist, you plant your knees firm on either side of his hips to lock him in place. Hes already panting, his pale chest streaked with sweat, that perfect collarbone rising and falling. His arms are tensed at his sides, fists still clenched - not in defiance anymore, but desperation. He doesnt know where to grab, or if youd let him. Probably not.
You drag your fingertips across his belly; lightly, lazily. The kind of tickling that doesn't overwhelm, just lingers. Irritates. Builds.
His back arches beneath you, that long, beautiful body stretching like a bow pulled too tight. His laughter stutters in his throat, soft at first, helpless.
"N - nohoho," he murmurs, shaking his head. "Please."
"Mmm." You hum, circling one fingertip around his navel. "We're past please,' Sylus. You said I could have you. All of you. So I will."
You drop your weight slightly and grind your hips against his - slow, deliberate. You feel the evidence of his arousal, thick and pressed against his waistband. He gasps through his laughter, biting back a moan as your fingers begin again.
Your right hand drifts up under his arm, catching the edge of his underarm. The left? Straight to those devilish spots just above his hip bones. He howls.
"G - Gods...!" He chokes, trying to squirm, but your thighs keep him trapped. "I - c-cahant!"
You giggle wicked and smug. "You can. You will."
His laughter rises, chest heaving, head thrown back. Its beautiful. Wild.
And you keep going.
You scribble your nails, sudden and fast across his exposed abs. It makes him arch and scream like hes being electrocuted. You switch from left to right, watching him flex beneath your fingers, like ripping waves.
"That's right, love. Give me what I want." You murmur as your hips roll into his, slowly, seductively.
He moans and laughs at once, head rolling side to side, tears just begginging to sting the corners of his eyes. His lips parted and kiss-bruised, beg without dignity now.
"Mercy," he whimpers. "Mercy, please. I cant."
"You don't get to say that," you purr, now dragging your nails behind you, down the insides of his thighs. His hips buck, his breath catching between hisses.
You stop. Just for a second. Enough to let the silence fall between you.
Hes gasps, body trembling. "Th-thank you." He whispers.
You smile down at him sweetly.
And then you start again.
Without warning.
This time...your hand moves down.
You palm his length through the soft sweat-drenched fabric of his trousers and he breaks.
His laugh turns to a moan, desperate and ragged. His hips thrust up helplessly into your hand - until you pull away.
He whines.
"Oh, you want both?" You coo. "You want to laugh and cum at the same time?" You lick your lips, lowering your body, your breath ghosting over the skin of his abdomen. "Then you'll take both."
You slip your hand into his pants, wrapping your fingers around him, hot and hard and twitching in your grasp. And while your palm strokes him, your other hand tickles him mercilessly across his ribs and stomach.
His body is in chaos, torn between agony and pleasure, and you dont let him go. Not even when he laughs so hard his voice breaks into sobs. Not even when he tries to plead again.
You lean over him and whisper like a promise, "I will make you cum laughing."
And you let go of him.
Just like that.
His hips thrust up into nothing and he goans in abject frustration.
You kiss him tenderly on his mouth, running your tongue against his quivering lower lip.
"But not yet, love."
His wrists are now tied above his head with soft black silk - stronger than it looks, enchanted by his own magic. You made him do it. Forced him to summon the bindings himself while you watched, grinning like a cat who'd already caught the canary and planned to play with it longer.
The bed beneath him is vast; black velvet and shadowglass, cool and slick where his sweat-slick back arches and writhes. You slide his trousers off slowly, peeling them from his long muscular legs inch by inch. His thighs twitch as you expose him.
And he is - utterly naked, utterly yours.
Hes hard. Painfully so. His length lies thick and flushed and wet at the tip. A desperate, silent confession of how much this torture excites him.
You climb back onto his bed, taking your place once more on his hips.
And Sylus - cold, cruel, always in control - whimpers.
He pulls at the silken ties instinctively, but they hold firm. "Dont," he breathes, eyes wide and dark. "April...I cant take it."
You lean forward and kiss his sternum, right where his heart hammers like thunder.
"Oh, but you're going to."
Your fingertips trail gently down his sides, feather light. Threatening.
He tenses. Shudders. "Don't...not again."
You lower your hips onto his, letting your heat rest just above him, not quite touching. His breath catches like hes going to die.
"I think," you murmur, voice soft and silky sweet. "Ill start with your underarms this time."
You dig your fingers in. Hard. Right above the curve of his ribcage, pressing and digging and teasing until he screams with laughter, body bucking beneath you. But hes pinned. Tied. Utterly helpless.
"Ah - ! A - Ahahahahhh!! God's! N-no, no no no!"
"Ohhh, is that a giggle, Sylus?" You tease. "Is the big bad enforcer of the realm giggling?"
His laugh is raw and humiliating, tearing from his throat in ragged, choked sobs. Hes shaking now. Sweat dripping down his temples.
And still - hes hard.
You trace downward.
Lower.
Lower still.
To his inner thighs.
The crease where thigh meets groin. He jerks, the sound he makes is a frantic mixture of laughter and a broken moan.
"You're so sensitive here..." You muse, voice lower, wicked. "I wonder what'll happen if I..."
You tickle with one hand. Your other barely touching his shaft in slow, gentle strokes.
He bucks, gasping.
"Mercy!" He forces out the plea "Ill do anything! Anything! Just let me...April please!"
"No mercy love," you croon with mock sorrow. "Not yet. I want to see what you look like when you cum sobbing from laughter."
Hes not fighting anymore. Not really. Hes surrendered.
You sit on his hips, gliding your soaked heat back and forth against his shaft, not letting him inside. Not yet. Giving him just enough friction to make his thighs tremble. Enough to make him weep.
Your hands never stop moving, teasing, tormenting.
Hes beyond pleading now. Hes babbling.
"I...AHAHAHA! I CAN'T! APRIL!"
His voice breaks on your name like a cry of worship. Like a man drowning in devotion and delirium.
And then - you take him.
You sink down slowly, letting his cock slide into your heat inch by inch, wrapping around him with wet, obscene tightness that makes you both gasp. His head slams back into the pillow, a choked cry escaping his throat as his bound arms flex above.
You lean forward, your breasts brushing his chest as you kiss his throat, his cheek, his eyelids.
And then you start to move.
Slow at first.
A steady, teasing roll of your hips, up and down his aching length. He moans, long and low, and then gasps as your hands return.
You spider your fingers anywhere they can reach. His whole body jerks.
"No! No, no!" He cries out, already giggling. "I cant! I cant take anymore!"
You ride him harder now. Every bounce of your hips forces him deeper. Every grind drags him against the most sensitive part of you both. Your slick thighs slap softly against his as you begin to ruin him.
His laughter is maddening. Beautiful and broken. Its laughter wrapped in sobs, in cries, in curses he doesnt have the breath to finish. He's begging, whimpering, shaking apart as you push him deeper and deeper into sensation.
He cums.
Too soon. Too much.
And you dont stop.
You keep riding him through it, his cock twitching violently inside you, your walls squeezing him mercilessly as his orgasm blends with laughter and overstimulation.
He shatters.
Hes laughing, crying, moaning.
Completely gone.
And still inside you.
Still yours.
Always yours.
Sylus
You dont rush. God's no.You savour.
Straddling his waist, you plant your knees firm on either side of his hips to lock him in place. Hes already panting, his pale chest streaked with sweat, that perfect collarbone rising and falling. His arms are tensed at his sides, fists still clenched - not in defiance anymore, but desperation. He doesnt know where to grab, or if youd let him. Probably not.
You drag your fingertips across his belly; lightly, lazily. The kind of tickling that doesn't overwhelm, just lingers. Irritates. Builds.
His back arches beneath you, that long, beautiful body stretching like a bow pulled too tight. His laughter stutters in his throat, soft at first, helpless.
"N - nohoho," he murmurs, shaking his head. "Please."
"Mmm." You hum, circling one fingertip around his navel. "We're past please,' Sylus. You said I could have you. All of you. So I will."
You drop your weight slightly and grind your hips against his - slow, deliberate. You feel the evidence of his arousal, thick and pressed against his waistband. He gasps through his laughter, biting back a moan as your fingers begin again.
Your right hand drifts up under his arm, catching the edge of his underarm. The left? Straight to those devilish spots just above his hip bones. He howls.
"G - Gods...!" He chokes, trying to squirm, but your thighs keep him trapped. "I - c-cahant!"
You giggle wicked and smug. "You can. You will."
His laughter rises, chest heaving, head thrown back. Its beautiful. Wild.
And you keep going.
You scribble your nails, sudden and fast across his exposed abs. It makes him arch and scream like hes being electrocuted. You switch from left to right, watching him flex beneath your fingers, like ripping waves.
"That's right, love. Give me what I want." You murmur as your hips roll into his, slowly, seductively.
He moans and laughs at once, head rolling side to side, tears just begginging to sting the corners of his eyes. His lips parted and kiss-bruised, beg without dignity now.
"Mercy," he whimpers. "Mercy, please. I cant."
"You don't get to say that," you purr, now dragging your nails behind you, down the insides of his thighs. His hips buck, his breath catching between hisses.
You stop. Just for a second. Enough to let the silence fall between you.
Hes gasps, body trembling. "Th-thank you." He whispers.
You smile down at him sweetly.
And then you start again.
Without warning.
This time...your hand moves down.
You palm his length through the soft sweat-drenched fabric of his trousers and he breaks.
His laugh turns to a moan, desperate and ragged. His hips thrust up helplessly into your hand - until you pull away.
He whines.
"Oh, you want both?" You coo. "You want to laugh and cum at the same time?" You lick your lips, lowering your body, your breath ghosting over the skin of his abdomen. "Then you'll take both."
You slip your hand into his pants, wrapping your fingers around him, hot and hard and twitching in your grasp. And while your palm strokes him, your other hand tickles him mercilessly across his ribs and stomach.
His body is in chaos, torn between agony and pleasure, and you dont let him go. Not even when he laughs so hard his voice breaks into sobs. Not even when he tries to plead again.
You lean over him and whisper like a promise, "I will make you cum laughing."
And you let go of him.
Just like that.
His hips thrust up into nothing and he goans in abject frustration.
You kiss him tenderly on his mouth, running your tongue against his quivering lower lip.
"But not yet, love."
His wrists are now tied above his head with soft black silk - stronger than it looks, enchanted by his own magic. You made him do it. Forced him to summon the bindings himself while you watched, grinning like a cat who'd already caught the canary and planned to play with it longer.
The bed beneath him is vast; black velvet and shadowglass, cool and slick where his sweat-slick back arches and writhes. You slide his trousers off slowly, peeling them from his long muscular legs inch by inch. His thighs twitch as you expose him.
And he is - utterly naked, utterly yours.
Hes hard. Painfully so. His length lies thick and flushed and wet at the tip. A desperate, silent confession of how much this torture excites him.
You climb back onto his bed, taking your place once more on his hips.
And Sylus - cold, cruel, always in control - whimpers.
He pulls at the silken ties instinctively, but they hold firm. "Dont," he breathes, eyes wide and dark. "April...I cant take it."
You lean forward and kiss his sternum, right where his heart hammers like thunder.
"Oh, but you're going to."
Your fingertips trail gently down his sides, feather light. Threatening.
He tenses. Shudders. "Don't...not again."
You lower your hips onto his, letting your heat rest just above him, not quite touching. His breath catches like hes going to die.
"I think," you murmur, voice soft and silky sweet. "Ill start with your underarms this time."
You dig your fingers in. Hard. Right above the curve of his ribcage, pressing and digging and teasing until he screams with laughter, body bucking beneath you. But hes pinned. Tied. Utterly helpless.
"Ah - ! A - Ahahahahhh!! God's! N-no, no no no!"
"Ohhh, is that a giggle, Sylus?" You tease. "Is the big bad enforcer of the realm giggling?"
His laugh is raw and humiliating, tearing from his throat in ragged, choked sobs. Hes shaking now. Sweat dripping down his temples.
And still - hes hard.
You trace downward.
Lower.
Lower still.
To his inner thighs.
The crease where thigh meets groin. He jerks, the sound he makes is a frantic mixture of laughter and a broken moan.
"You're so sensitive here..." You muse, voice lower, wicked. "I wonder what'll happen if I..."
You tickle with one hand. Your other barely touching his shaft in slow, gentle strokes.
He bucks, gasping.
"Mercy!" He forces out the plea "Ill do anything! Anything! Just let me...April please!"
"No mercy love," you croon with mock sorrow. "Not yet. I want to see what you look like when you cum sobbing from laughter."
Hes not fighting anymore. Not really. Hes surrendered.
You sit on his hips, gliding your soaked heat back and forth against his shaft, not letting him inside. Not yet. Giving him just enough friction to make his thighs tremble. Enough to make him weep.
Your hands never stop moving, teasing, tormenting.
Hes beyond pleading now. Hes babbling.
"I...AHAHAHA! I CAN'T! APRIL!"
His voice breaks on your name like a cry of worship. Like a man drowning in devotion and delirium.
And then - you take him.
You sink down slowly, letting his cock slide into your heat inch by inch, wrapping around him with wet, obscene tightness that makes you both gasp. His head slams back into the pillow, a choked cry escaping his throat as his bound arms flex above.
You lean forward, your breasts brushing his chest as you kiss his throat, his cheek, his eyelids.
And then you start to move.
Slow at first.
A steady, teasing roll of your hips, up and down his aching length. He moans, long and low, and then gasps as your hands return.
You spider your fingers anywhere they can reach. His whole body jerks.
"No! No, no!" He cries out, already giggling. "I cant! I cant take anymore!"
You ride him harder now. Every bounce of your hips forces him deeper. Every grind drags him against the most sensitive part of you both. Your slick thighs slap softly against his as you begin to ruin him.
His laughter is maddening. Beautiful and broken. Its laughter wrapped in sobs, in cries, in curses he doesnt have the breath to finish. He's begging, whimpering, shaking apart as you push him deeper and deeper into sensation.
He cums.
Too soon. Too much.
And you dont stop.
You keep riding him through it, his cock twitching violently inside you, your walls squeezing him mercilessly as his orgasm blends with laughter and overstimulation.
He shatters.
Hes laughing, crying, moaning.
Completely gone.
And still inside you.
Still yours.
Always yours.
