My art blog✨26y.o\\ she/her/drawing, reading smut, gaming 🪐 I love masked men and powerful supernatural creatures ⚡️ If you want to repost, credit me pls🥀
maybe attending a late night rodeo for fun wouldn’t be so boring— especially when some hot cowboy gifts you his hat. what were the rules again?
WARNINGS: MDNI/18+, language, alcohol consumption, one night stand, unprotected sex, grinding, pet names, poor blowjobs, slight manhandling, impact play, size kink, cum eating, creampies, overstimulation
rodeo cowboy! sylus doesn’t notice you at first. in fact, not at all. you’re happy and cheering on for the fun of it, blending in with the eager crowd. the horses race across the rim of the dirt field, dust in its tracks as its rider whips his rope at the wild bull once more.
he catches it, one swift movement and one strong pull after. you’re in awe as you grin ear to ear, and make one brief eye-contact with the man. best to say, he wanted more than one prize that night.
rodeo cowboy! sylus is more than just your average rider. he’s from prestigious money— of course, self made— and he’s a man of sweat, blood, and names. unnatural silver hair and a tall yet powerful frame is enough to allow the other cowboys a good hundred feet away from him. and this man in particular? oh you didn’t know him as far as the eye could see.
you’re here on a whim, joyful and free on a sunday night just for the heck of life. you don’t know the country tradition as a city girl, and you sure as hell don’t know the rider approaching you. you don’t know the attention you’re getting by the crowd as they try to push you back, other eager women and men trying to best themselves in front of you.
rodeo cowboy! sylus has a powerful voice as he reprimands the crowd, his gaze near threatening as he hisses at the white chick behind you,
“Those are some hot hands sweetie, don’t touch her.”
you had to stare up, your mouth gaping as the hands behind you let you go, your red flannel slipping from your shoulders as you try to find the right words to say. you were amazing! you were great! you have a nice ass!
but when you felt something rest upon your head, blocking your view of vision, you squeak. the crowd is loud again, ooo-ing at you and before you could remove the hat, the man tsks,
“Keep it kitten, it looks nice on you.”
And that was it.
rodeo cowboy! sylus doesn’t bother turning back, and makes his way toward his mini camper, away from the bustling crowd and letting the authorities deal with the monsters.
he knows what he’s doing too, because he hears your tiny stomps as you call him out, and he makes sure to keep his door slightly open just for you,
“Sir! Sir!” you’re out of breath as keep your hand on top of your head, trying to prevent the hat from flying off, “You forgot your hat! Sir!”
to you, it’s common etiquette to not keep something that isn’t yours. so being gifted something out of the ordinary and from some random ass dude who just so happened to be an amazing cowboy— was so odd!
you made it to his camper, sweating as you knocked before entering. your chest heaved from the not-so-short sprint, and your hair was disheveled and matted with dust— so you weren’t really in the best condition to be welcomed.
rodeo cowboy! sylus watched as you entered, his coat and show-jeans off. his arms were splayed on the ends of the long couch, one hand holding a Jack Daniels as licked his lips. dirt kissed his cheeks as he grinned slightly, loving the way your head tilted to the side.
“You! You can’t give me this!” you handed him his black hat with a frown, “It’s—“
“Keep it.”
he takes another swig of the whisky, his throat bobbing as he savors the bitter taste. now, you finally notice him.
his face was a chiseled and flushed with color, his chest way to big for his sleeveless shirt. you only allowed your eyes to travel down for a brief second, and then up— he was bricked.
rodeo cowboy! sylus notices how your cheeks become red, and he motions you forward with a finger,
“C’mere, you know the rules don’t you?”
“Rules?”
you’re confused— and as you should. you felt horrible for looking down his crotch like that— and more that you got turned on by it. since when have you ever been alone in a room with a guy like that?!
“The hat thing, you know it don’t you kitten?” he lifts a brow as he gives you a pitiful look, “You’re not from here, are you?”
“Well no? I’m from Ca—“
he nods, then pats his thigh. you step back, still appalled,
“What?”
“Wear the hat, ride the cowboy— not too hard to understand, Princess.”
rodeo cowboy! sylus loves the way your facial expression goes wide, and that’s enough to make him lean back and tilt his head. what a cute thing you were as you looked side to side, blinking constantly.
“I—I don’t even know you, or your name and—“
“Sylus.”
you hold the hat to your chest, and raised a brow, and he repeats again as his fingers rap his thigh,
“It’s Sylus, you’re going to need to know it when you scream my name.”
rodeo cowboy! sylus just loves women who don’t require the effort to persuade. either you want him or you don’t, and always, you do. you’re meek as you make your way toward him, and he helps you on his wide thigh, your legs on either side of them.
he takes the hat from your hands and sets it once more on your steaming head, making you bite your lip. sure, this was completely optional and you so had nothing to do— so what’s the harm?
the cowboy leans forward, his lips ghosting over yours as his whisky breath mingles with your shaky one. you feel his hand rest on your lower back, slow and firm as they slide under your shirt. his other hand holds the back of your head, his fingers running through your locks as he takes his time to fist them slowly.
he whispers to you, sounding like a command that makes you straighten up and listen,
“Grind yourself on me, princess.”
And he captures your lips.
rodeo cowboy! sylus doesn’t have to lift a single finger to get you moving. your hips move for themselves as they live off the friction of your jeans, rocking back and forth in slow motions.
his lips are nothing but rough, trying to eat you up as he pushes your face onto his. your hands find leverage on his shirt, and you fist it as you keep your thighs tight upon his.
his teeth pull at your lower lip, enough to draw blood, but gentle enough to take it as a sucker. you moan, probably of the way his tongue enters your mouth, feverish and eager— or probably with how he began to bounce his leg just for you.
your poor clit begged to be rubbed and you felt your pussy begin to soak with your rigid humping. you felt like an animal leaning on him, letting his hand below trace and guide your hips to your weak climax. your legs tighten on his thigh as you drag your pussy longer, feeling the seams of your jeans hit you just right, and enough to make you erupt with a breathy moan.
rodeo cowboy! sylus takes it as a call to action. he makes you stand up, and orders you to strip. you listen of course, partly because you were sweating with heat, and also because you needed to be fucked.
your shirt, flannel, and jeans come off sheepishly as you fumble with buttons and jangling accessories. the cowboy just had to unbuckle his pants and take another swig of his drink to truly be ready— because a nervous chick like you was in for some good taming.
your tits spilled from your bralette as you tossed it somewhere in a pile, and you feel the hot air already waft to your wet pussy. but the man doesn’t immediately let you on him, no, in fact, he makes you kneel. and he made you kneel a certain way too; your hands had to be on his knees, and your face had to be leaned all the way forward until your nose touched his crotch.
but what were you to do when you were so fucking horny? this wasn’t the time to give him head, you had your own issues. maybe he wouldn’t notice if you touched yourself for just a bit, right?
you watch him pull out his pretty cock, precum already spilling from its tip as its glistens. he had neat tufts of silver hair at his base, and he was so thick it made you doubt that he’ll ever fit inside you.
when you didn’t do anything, he took it as the chance to curl your hair around his fist, and push you right onto his length. you gag immediately, your hands itching to push away but you’re scared of what would happen if you did. your tongue traces his veiny cock as you choke, feeling his tip kiss the back of your throat eagerly.
sylus loves the view of your lips wrapped around his dick, your drool making a sloppy trail on him as your eyes squint and twitch to take him fully. and he knows he’s big, and he holds back on the so-fucking-good feeling of your warm mouth, and it takes him everything to not drill himself in you. you’d look so pretty with his cum all over you— and he’s willing to attest to that.
rodeo cowboy! sylus is weak at heart, but not in a gentle way— because he does what he held so back on. he stands, and you’re interrupted slowly as you make a humming motion on his cock, confused, but not for long.
his hips snap forward, and you nearly fall back if not for his tight hold on your head. your hands grip onto his legs as fucks himself into your face, not caring if you couldn’t see or if your snot dribbled onto him— no, he wanted to cum in your mouth and make sure you ate it.
wet noises escape your lips as you gag, feeling amateurish at best as you kept your jaw hanging. your drool and his cum slipped from the corners of your lips, snaking down your chin and onto the crevices of your chest.
your dirty self nearly comes too, and his seed is painted in your throat as he pulls out and tugs on your hair,
“Don’t waste a drop princess.”
your tongue lolls out as you lick your lips, savoring the bitter taste as you take a choked swallow. your eyes burn with tears as you reach for your jaw, sore and aching— but he doesn’t bother letting you do it for a moment longer.
rodeo cowboy! sylus strongly pulls you up by your throat, and leads you back onto the couch. his hands were almost as big as your abdomen, and he takes advantage of them as he holds you side to side. your hips are hovered over his dick, his tip pressing against your glistening folds.
“This your first rodeo?”
you look at him with sweat dripping down your brow, and it hurts to laugh,
“Y-yeah?”
his fangs poke out as he smirks, guiding you down slowly on his cock, impaling you as your lips slowly form an “o”,
“Do you at least know how to ride? I don’t mind teaching you princess.”
a mewl escapes you as your pussy clamps on him, barely enough space as you tip your head back to hold yourself from cumming. you’ve seen enough porn to know how it’s done, and you’re hornishly confident as you give him a drunk look,
“I-I do know!”
you make your point as you lift yourself slightly, and then come down with a wet slap. another moan escapes, and your hair sticks to your forehead as you repeat the movement sluggishly.
your nails dig in his shoulders; and your breath heaves until you feel something cold against your lips. the bottle of whisky tilts on your lips, and you welcome its burn as it trickles down your tongue. some of the golden liquid slips down your chin, and sylus helps himself as he slurps it up.
the drink gives you a slight boost, your mind more hazy as you press your tits against his chest. his hands squeeze your ass, following your movements as you hopped on his dick feverishly. you were practically praying on his cock, thanking and praising him for fucking you like this, and he loved it.
rodeo cowboy! sylus pressed sloppy kisses as your pussy squelched with each thrust, his hips jerking to match your hops. he gave a light spank to your ass, cooing at you as you squeezed him tighter.
your gummy walls milked him dry, but you weren’t allowed to stop. your breath tickled his neck when you clutched him, and he took the reigns, letting himself fill you up with a creamy ring. you felt your stomach tighten, like another knot to be let loose as you muttered his name,
“S-Sylus—oh my god—“
his hand kneaded your ass, giving it sweet attention before he gave it another aching slap. your flesh jiggled to his delight, and your sounds fed his sick pleasures as he lifted your chin to meet his lips.
you could barely kiss him, and it felt like your soul was eaten alive as you struggled to keep yourself upright. he glorified you with lustrous red eyes, stuffing you to the brim with his cock which worked wonders into your poor kiss.
his hat fell from your head, landing neatly onto the floor. soon, you would be on the floor too, doggy-style as he made sure you were marked and filled by him. from your mouth, pussy, and ass— he needed it all.
you should feel grateful that you got him like this, because this was straight up fan service. but your fucked-out face couldn’t even piece that together as you cummed again, your hips in a sputtering grind as your thighs grew sticky.
oh, you were definitely a good rider.
“Think you can go for another ride, Princess? The night’s just begun.”
the fish are in season, and so is your employer. lately he’s been craving attention, but you’re simply not giving him anything. lucky for him, he knows a way to knock you off your feet.
warnings: MDNI/18+, pool sex, slight waterboarding, mentions of two d!cks/ sea god! rafayel, mentions of hypnotism/ sex pheromones, slight dumbification, breeding kink, grinding, cunnilingus, squirting, overstimulation, double penetration, tummy bulges, creampies
There was no time for breaks, or even a sip of your coffee.
The poor cup was left alone and cold on your messy desk, which might have shared the same feelings as your lover. You were drained, but the missions you had by Jenna were of utter importance— and the last thing you wanted to do was let her down.
“You have 62 messages from fishboy…?”
Tara was peeking over your shoulder, her hair equally disheveled as she watched the phone buzz once more.
You had your head deep in papers as you sighed, waving her off;
“Just leave it, I’ll—“
“Oh, they’re calling you now.”
The photo of Rafayel painting buzzed next to you, making it the 27th call you received today. You told him that this was an important week for the Hunters, and that you really needed to be prepared for this. But as needy as he is, he didn’t bother paying attention.
At night, when you did have the time to text him, it was a bunch of rambles about dates, paintings, and the fish in the sea. He mentioned going over to his place a ton of times, mostly to try some new sushi he made. Very odd considering who he was, but who were you to judge?
Your legs bounced impatiently as your dreary eyes watched the phone. You could answer it, or ignore it— and that latter seemed better because the red button seemed so attractive.
“Maybe it’s urgent? You should pick it up,” your friend offered, giving you an awkward smile, “I wish somebody would call me and get me out of this hellhole…”
“No,” you press the endearing button, and slam your phone into your drawer, “We have stuff to do, and I’m not letting anything distract me.”
“Carmel macchiatos came!”
You perk up instantly, eyes wide as you see the delivery man with the trays of drinks. Jenna was heading down with more papers from her office, thanking the man as she announced;
“Everyone help yourselves, my treat,” she turns, her eyes on you, “y/n and Tara, you’re assigned to escort Mr. Smith down to Universum,”
“But that’s a shopping district—“
Tara is interrupted by Jenna’s silent glare;
“For his esthetic appointment,” she hands you the grey folders, waiting a moment before you cleared your desk to make space for it, “He doesn’t feel safe heading alone, so he requested some assistance.”
“Of course,” you say, smiling, “We’ll be right there.”
The whole escort thing was annoying and beyond you. The man had no care for respect and had you and Tara holding all his shopping bags. He looked past the age of 70, and yet he still went to the scamming “look 20 years younger in just 20 minutes!” shop. In your mind, you hoped he stayed there for 70…
“I think after this I’ll go for hotpot! What do you think?”
Tara was struggling to hold the big shoe box on her arm, so you helped her with her other bags, setting them down on the floor. The area was bustling with people, along with children who giggled loudly at the puppet show being played not far off.
“Um, probably not tonight,” you sigh, resting on the chairs available in front of the clinic, “I asked for a night shift too…”
“You’re going to exhaust yourself like that!”
Tara dumped the boxes, huffing as she kicked them. Looks like she was tired of them too.
“y/n! If you don’t call that shift off, I’ll personally tell Jenna to let you go!”
Before you could retort angrily, the loud buzzing of your phone interrupted. With a groan you shuffled through your uniform pockets, finding your phone with that damn fish photo.
You glance at the other woman, who has her arms crossed as she raised a brow. You mumble something under your breath, excusing yourself to the quiet corner of the clinic. The sun had already begun to set, so the settling darkness enveloped you in secrecy. Answering the call you began;
“Rafayel! I’m in a very—“
“Miss Bodyguard! Oh I’m dying— dying I say!”
Rafayel whines through the other end, rambling about the missed calls and absent replies,
“You’re going to be fine love,” you furrow your brows, your foot tapping impatiently, “Look, I’ll head to your studio in a bit—“
“Please…?” he begs, nearly gasping the words out, “I’ll be good—“
His voice cuts off, and it’s followed with a sudden loud clamor. Worried you shouted,
“Rafayel? Rafayel! Did you dump—“
The call ends with a beep, making you stand in silence as you stare at the black screen. First of all, he would never hang up on you, and that was a fact. Second of all, what was that? A list of many possible outcomes ran through your head, causing you to pang with guilt.
You had to go check on him, now.
Peeking at the corner of the clinic, you see Mr. Smith exiting his surgery room, his face bandaged and eyes too squinted to see. Tara is already glaring daggers at you, and waves you over.
Silently, across the bustling mall, you signal a crossing sign. You mouth, hoping her lip reading skills were still up to par;
“I have to go, cover me!”
She visibly stomps her foot, signaling a “you owe me”. Both of you are upset as you nod, heading down to the elevator and hoping for the best. Surely Tara could handle the evil man…the luggage not so much.
Luckily for you, your boyfriend’s art studio wasn’t so far off from the center. The mansion was big, with some construction still being cleaned on the side. Recently, he had decided to make an indoor pool.
In your mind, you found it unnecessary, especially since he had a whole ocean to himself. The mansion inside was dark and desolate, and every step you made rung through the decorated walls of the facility. Where the hell was he even at?
You locked the doors behind you, also making sure to slip into some sandals. His studio looked ransacked, paint everywhere and his coral brushes littered about.
“Rafayel?”
Your voice echoes through the empty room, and you’re careful with your steps as to make sure you don’t ruin any of his pieces. A painting on the far left of his room stands out to you, and the more you look at it, the more the beautiful woman resembles you.
Her face looked at the sea, her lashes long and carrying wisps of the starry sky. She wore a white gown, her intimate clothing visible underneath. Of course that pervert would do something like that…
Your fingers grazed the canvas slowly, but jerked back immediately when you clashed with wet paint. Grimacing, you looked at your hand, your index and thumb rubbing together the sticky fluid. Since when was paint sticky?
Sighing, you went on to the hallway, where the rooms were still neat and without a single stray item. The kitchen was the same, and so was the recreation area. As you walked down to the new pool, some lights glowed— and they were the only lights on in the house. Nightfall had came, and the crickets were chirping as you strolled to the pool.
Blue lights glistened from underneath, accentuating the small moving waves of the crystal water. The pool was rimmed with fluorescent tiles that branched out in floral designs across the onyx floor, making it just as beautiful as art. Only one wall of the area was made entirely of glass, meant to look out towards the ocean.
You’re deep in thought, mesmerized by the waves until you realize— there should be no waves if no one was here. Immediately, you’re running across the poolside, eyes scanning the deep body of water for a figure.
Just when you spot a black flash underneath, your foot trips over an uneven tile, causing you to fall inside. You didn’t even get to muster a yell once the water sucked you in, soaking your clothes. The weight of your uniform dragged you down, so as you gasped for air in the rough current, you began to unzip your vest.
“Rafayel you idiot!” Your voice echoed again, highlighted with your jerkish movements, “Get out of this pool, now—“
You’re silenced immediately, large hands dragging you down the deep end. Instinctively your eyes shut, and your legs kick at whatever figure had you embraced from head to toe. You could feel your air slip from your lungs, causing small bubbles to escape from your warbling lips.
“Shhh…”
The smooth voice nearly shattered your movements, and you open an eye haphazardly, seeing illuminescent blue eyes. Rafayel’s face had a pink tint all across, his finned ears blushing a harsh red. His lavender hair fanned out beautifully; your lips part to retort, but he takes it as the chance to press a kiss.
The light contact allowed you to resonate with him, sharing the ability to breathe under the waving waters. Your arms move to freedom from his chest, and you grab his neck, trying to push him away.
“Rafa—“
He doesn’t bother giving you the opportunity to do anything.
You feel your back press against the tiled pool, and you take that momentum to push yourself up, taking a large gulp of air. The warm water encircles your neck, rings of ripples bouncing off each other.
Your lovers eyes are still seen from the barrier below, your hands being the only thing stopping him from rising above.
“What has gotten into you?” you nearly scream, “You can’t just drown me and then kiss me!”
“But I need you.” his voice is filled with sweet lace, and he pushes forward, breaking your hands away.
You feel him press against you, and then something—no— something’s poke you. You look down, seeing his cocks nestle between your soaked thighs. Your face heats up instantly,
“You’re—“
“y/n,” his sweet air wafting towards you, “Please.”
A billion thoughts flush your mind— why, what, when, where, and how. It’s barely mid-summer with blistering heat and—
Your jaw drops and the memories of his constant nagging enlightens you. He was in heat. A small “oh” leaves your lips, and you flash back to the painting, where the white paint clung to your fingers.
“Love,” your hands reach back, finding leverage on the slippery tiles, “You’re not you right now, you’re—“
You feel your chest grow weak when he towers over you, his arms encasing your figure as he tilts his head curiously. His eyes have a certain hold on you, making you still as he rubs himself through your legs.
“Please, please,” his voice reaches to your ears, sounding pitiful, “I can’t hold it— I-I feel like I’m dying if I don’t—“
You squeeze your eyes shut, and you try to maintain your posture as you push yourself up on the pool’s rim. You talk to him as if he were a dangerous animal— and he probably was;
“Love— Love, listen to me, I can help you, but I need to—“
His breath tickles your wet cheek, and you swore you felt him twitch beneath you as he rested his chin on the crook of your neck. His weight is heavy, looming even. It’s barely bearable as you get a good whiff of his glistening skin, smelling intoxication.
Oh no, no, no, no.
You needed to leave. Now. You don’t know how he acts when he’s like this, and you didn’t want to risk knowing either. You didn’t have protection— nothing. Your vest floated along the curving waters, and you remember the sterilizer you saved.
If you could possibly escape his hold and reach for that shot, then there’s a chance he would knock out. Yes, yes that was perfect.
The only thing ruled out in your mind was nothing short of simple.
This pool was filled with Rafayel’s domain. And no matter what you do, you could never beat him in his own land.
His chest heaved with need as he trailed his lips on your collar. His hands itched to grab you and squeeze you in his favorite places— places where his imagination desired to be released and come true. Your clothes needed to go away, and he didn’t mind helping you.
Your voice was drowned, pleas and yells oblivious to his narrow mind as he thought of the ways to breed you. It felt awfully natural to do so. Maybe have you on his shoulders as he eats you clean— or perhaps fuck your sweet cunt until your hole dripped with beads of silk.
Oh that sounded nice.
He was too infused with his thoughts to notice you paddling away, your arms flailing across the water and legs swooshing cutely through. A single line of drool slipped from his lips, his tongue licking it back up as temptation swimmed in front of him.
“y/n,” it hurt to speak, but his voice was a melody, “y/n, don’t leave me.”
The god reached for your legs, grabbing them tight as he pulled at the fabric. You were resisting, fighting more with the water as you fumbled with your buttons. You avoided eye contact by all means, but it wouldn’t save you from his eager calls practically begging you to stop and give up.
Was this what sailors felt when sirens called their names?
Another push of your legs allowed your jeans to be slipped off, joining the water as it danced on the surface. Rafayel looked at the fabric, staring at it curiously before he tossed it aside. Oh this wouldn’t do at all.
His tail swished expertly across the water as he submerged himself below, watching your beautiful figure swim across the water. His eyes trailed your path, seeing you swim towards a vest not far off. Was there something important about it?
“Rafayel!”
You’re cursing to yourself as you see him swim below you, cruising towards your plan. Fuck. Time for plan B then.
“Rafayel!”
You call his name out again, still in the water— but enough to keep you floating. You felt your panties stick to your ass uncomfortably, but it became a solution as you slipped them off. His head peeked from the water, unwavering.
“See this? Yeah?” you wave your black panties, encouraging him like a dog, “You want this? Look!”
You throw it across the pool, “Fetch!”
He doesn’t move.
“I-If you catch it I’ll,” you swallow thickly, praying that you’re fast in water, “I’ll let you do whatever you want!”
Not even a second passes before the man submerges himself, and you immediately start swimming like your life depended on it. You’re breathing in water, choking on it as you messily splashed it back with your hands. The vest was so close, so close that it was barely at an arms reach.
Your fingers grab at the leather lapel, and a gleeful smile appears on your face. Yes, yes—
“Oh!”
Your voice comes out as a moan, and you see the god below you, his hands holding your hips as he’s awfully close to your bare pussy. How in the world did he—
A single back fabric floats to the surface, dancing tauntingly at your demise.
Oh no.
“Love, love listen—“ you’re in full panic mode, one hand trying to pry him off you and the other trying to unbuckle the pocket in your vest, “D-don’t do this, you’re—oh my goodness—“
A long tongue laps a clean trail on your cunt, stopping at your clit to give it a long kiss. His lips are gentle as he presses loving pecks at your small bud, and his hands are the opposite as he holds you tight— his fingers digging into the plush of your hips.
Maybe it’s something in the water, but to him, you taste absolutely divine. Every lick he takes at you melts right on his tongue, being savored until the moment it disappears— and then he does it again. Your pussy tastes so soft, and your thighs seem to squeeze him lovingly tight.
A jumble of sounds wants to escape your lips, but you can’t. You’re gritting your teeth as you try to fumble the pockets— one after another being the wrong one. You can feel your concentration being sucked away, and just barely keeping your eyes wide took everything you had.
His tongue was eager to fuck you, circling your pulsing hole that ached for attention. The taste of you was way stronger there, smoother even. It was nice and slick as he slowly dipped his muscle inside, feeling every ridge of your tight cunt. You were so warm for him, and he might as well breathe you in with how his nose began to stimulate your bundle of nerves.
Your legs were trembling as you tore apart your pockets— but the shot was no where to be found.
“T-The st—fuck—“
A whine slips from your throat, and your hands abandon you as they reach for the locks of your lover below. He was getting way too excited below you as he moved you around for the best position. Water slipped and tapped your ears as you were nearly flat on the pool, your legs folded to your tummy as Rafayel rumbled on your cunt.
His moans shook trembles of electricity up your veins, making you sensitive as he circled your clit with his fingers. His digits slowly sped up the pace, spelling his name on you like a chant. Rafayel. Rafayel. Rafayel.
It was engraved in you as you felt the knot in your tummy begin to unravel, so close to coming but then so sweetly nurtured. His jaw opened wide, his lips trying to latch on you like suction as he rubbed his spit all over your puffy folds.
It felt horribly good, and when you finally land your gaze on his eyes, it was all it took. Wet lashes watched you unfurl before him, making a sweet mateful cry as you squirted on his face, delighting him to continue.
You were begging him to stop, your lips trembling as you bucked your hips on his face. But he was unrelenting, his tongue curving in the right places as you squeezed him tight. He loved this. Loved seeing you tip your head back and your chest heave uncontrollably, your hands curling into your palms as the water embraced you in its presence.
You were his Princess.
Queen.
Lover.
Mate.
He unlatches himself from you, a loud pop heard as he hums. Your pussy was glittery with your cum and his saliva, and his index finger poked your clit slightly— evoking a gasp from you.
“You seem ready…” he mutters, not exactly himself as he wraps an arm around your waist, “What do you think, Ms. Bodyguard?”
Your natural e/c eyes were swirling with a tint of blue, clearly mesmerized in his spell. He kept a hand on the back of your head, swimming slowly to the glass wall of the enclosure.
The moon was full tonight, ready to witness the lovers nestle themselves on the edge of the room. Waves from the ocean were heard, splashing across the large rocks vigorously— the night was alive, alive for the Sea God and his bride.
You were placed in the corner of the pool, your head carefully leaned back against the glass. The god’s palm traces your sweaty features, droplets of water racing across your beautiful flesh joyfully. Your bralette was visible through the white collar of your uniform, soaked and wet with the unfortunate activities.
You can’t even think.
The whole, “I need to escape” wasn’t even in your mind anymore. The plan and the shot were just gone. Now, as you lazily watch the mergod undress you, you can only repeat one thing in your mind.
And you didn’t even want to think it.
But you wanted him.
You wanted him to fuck you until you were full of his cum.
And it was just not you.
But it felt so right.
The cold air kissed your wet skin, and was instantly warmed with the hot touch of your lover. His fingers swiped at your nipples, pressing them slightly and then letting go, enjoying the small jiggle of your breasts.
Yet, he didn’t want to do just that. His dicks ached to be inside you, to feel your warmth and melt at your every sound. And you seem to do that for him, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders as you push yourself to the tip of the pools border.
And this time, you were the one begging.
“Rafayel, please.”
His hands slide down to your ass, cupping it as he presses you against his chest. Your fingers glide to your pussy, parting your folds ever so slightly as you felt his tip poke at your cunt. It pressed kisses on your folds, and then found its home as it slipped right inside, your own pussy being the lube it needed.
It felt awfully big as it slowly pushed upwards, kissing your cervix. You were going to move, but a tight squeeze behind stops you from considering it,
“No, no I still have to put the other,” his breaths fanned your dewy flesh, his swallow audible, “It has to be both…”
“You’ll break me—“
His head lifts from its tilt, his gorgeous locks of hair sticking to his flushed face as his markings glint in the moons reflection. How were to deny his majesty? His chest rose, then fell languidly as he hovered his lips over your gaping ones.
You didn’t have to do anything.
He was willing to do it all for you. To keep your legs up as he fucked into you, and make sure that you’re able to see the way your pussy engulfed him whole. He pressed his lips against yours, letting you taste your syrup as he rubbed your clit below.
You can fit him, and he knows it.
He guided his stacked cock to your stuffed hole, rutting it in as he kept you stimulated. Soft gasps slipped from your lips, combining with the gentle grunts he made. The man kept you distracted, enjoying the warmth you enveloped him in.
And before you knew, your legs were spread apart, one kept a little further up by his force on your thigh. Dribbles of water decorated your body like beautiful pearls, sliding down south like a guide for him to follow.
Rafayel’s lips never left yours, his weight pushed onto you as he pushed slow strokes into you, allowing you to settle him in. Your tummy bulged with each slow thrust, making your body twitch and buck with the overwhelming pressure.
It was impossible to have him like this, and ever so ethereal as he spoke,
“I’m so sorry cutie, I-I can’t hold back anymore.”
Your brows furrow, but you didn’t have the chance to reply as a sudden snap pushed your back against the glass wall. A moan erupts from your throat, your eyes wide as you instinctively hold onto his shoulders, scratching his back helplessly as you kept yourself still.
His hips snapped forward again, burying himself in your sopping cunt. Your puffy folds hugged his cocks adorably, and followed the feverish rhythm of thrusts. The sounds of wet flesh echoed in the room, along with the melody that was wrung out of you tirelessly.
You came once, twice, thrice— but it wasn’t enough for the both of you. Your tummy bulged slightly more every time, and you became easily sensitive to the bites landing on your neck. The coil in your pussy warned you with another squirting orgasm, followed by a wet squirt that trickled down the god’s abdomen.
A white ring formed at his base, his finger spreading it on your thighs, stomach, and chest— painting you like a beautiful canvas. And you were, just like the one he imagined as your breasts bounced with each snap of his hips, your arms covering your face in embarrassment as you tried to muffle your sounds.
“R-r—“
You couldn’t even talk. The words would come in, and then slip out immediately. It was like you didn’t even remember what you were going to say.
And the flustered god didn’t care either. He was too focused on filling you with his seed again, hoping that you’d last a few more rounds— preferably till dawn to see the sun splash you in a sparkling bath of gold. His palms squeezed your thighs, leaving bruising marks that were decorated with eager kisses of water.
This was something worth painting.
And to you, something worth paying attention later.
I have a thing that I do around 40 wishes every banner and if I didn’t get 5star, I stop rolling, so for the next banner I’ll have 100% guarantee. Now I did 44 for Xavier, he didn’t come home, so I’ll save for the beach banner…. (I’m f2p player..)
But like… when I was rolling for Raf’s merman banner, I got him in 15 pools😭😭😭😭 both cards😩😩😩
izzy806
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