﹙ syn ﹚winter decides to play with the new toy she bought in the middle of a tennis match
481 ── sugar mommy!minjeong ⍀ 𝑓. reader┆warnings. . . smut ⋆ public play ⋆ remote control vibrator ⋆ mommy kink ⋆ praise
🗯️ notes: i used to play tennis.. winter went to a tennis match... heh you get where im going with this??? ok lemme shut up.
the skyview suite at the wimbledon towered over centre court at a breathtaking height, the glass windows giving you a perfect view of the two players preparing for the match below.
winter sat next to you on the plush, white leather couch, legs crossed, eyes locked onto the court, and one perfectly manicured hand resting over the small remote hidden in her palm.
the first serve cracked through the air like a sharp whip, and that's when it started. the small vibrator pressed against your clit began to buzz at a low, steady hum.
your teeth sank into your bottom lip, thighs clenched together as a sharp pulse shot through your core. winter's mouth curled into a knowing smirk, her eyes still on the match below.
"focus on the game, baby,” she murmured, voice low and smooth like dripping honey. “wouldn't want you missing anything."
you gave a shaky nod, nails digging into the armrest, pretending to focus on the match.
the second serve landed and winter increased the intensity of the vibrator. it buzzed at a medium pace, pressing right against your clit. your hips twitched, a soft whine slipping from your lips right as the crowd applauds, saving you the embarrassment.
by the third serve the intensity becomes worse. winter increased the pressure again, the small toy pulsing rhythmically, making your pussy clenching around the silicone. you can feel how soaked your panties are, the fabric clinging to your folds.
“winter—mommy… please— s’too much,” you whispered breathlessly, tears prickled at the corner of your eyes.
“shh… it’s okay. you’re doing so good for mommy—staying so quiet,” she cooed, placing her hand onto your knee, tracing soft circles against your burning skin.
it continues like this as the match goes on. during every point, win or lost. every serve, every cheer from the crowd—winter adjusts the speed on the remote. sometimes she lowers it to a slow torturous pace. sometimes she pauses it completely, letting your clit chase the missing rhythm.
“im close— f-fuck.. mommy,” you warned.
it didn’t take long for your orgasm to build up, heat pooling in your lower stomach. when the players the changed ends, she didn’t wait; spiking the vibrator to the highest setting.
your breath hitched, teeth biting down hard into your lip, enough to draw blood. your vision blurred as you came hard, walls pulsing around the toy, the space between your thighs now soaked in your own wetness.
you choked out a moan, attempting to cover it with a cough and a hand over your mouth, but it still earned you a few looks from the surrounding people.
she finally clicked the remote off and her hand lands on your trembling thigh, warm and gentle, rubbing against your skin like she’s offering you comfort, but her words are everything but, “you did so well for mommy, baby. but the match isn’t over yet.”
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