eating cinnabar out and fingering her slowly and carefully, barely touching her, teasing and edging until she's pulling your hair, wriggling and begging you to speed up, and strapping shawn down hard and fast with the biggest toy you have, all teeth and nails until she's a whining drooling mess begging for mercy, so they can have a taste of their own medicine :3c
Both mascs but these two get very very different treatments ❤️
I can just imagine teasing Cinnabar like that just when she's about to leave for a new assignment, keeping her plastered to the wall and shuddering over your head as you dragged your tongue through her sticky warmth, her musk and heat pressed up against your nose as you nudge it against her bud in playful little drags, taking your sweet time fingering her open a little wider—almost to the same stretch your strap could give without a problem.
When she whispers her pleas, groaning and hoarse, you can feel her desperation clench around your fingers. Hot and clingy. Just how you like her.
Cinnabar's the punctual type, so no doubt she's all tense just from watching the clock and trying not to lose herself too much that she'd forget the time. It's all a part of your greedy little plan to drink up every last drop of this handsome woman before she's off to be someone else's knight in carbon-steel armor. You'll make sure Cinnabar feels a tremble in her legs when she patrols her assignment's venue later. You'll fuck her so good that she'll be aching for the full thing the whole day, even while scanning crowds and moving in the shadows, unseen but still feeling stripped bare as though you've always got your eye on her. Which you do. Her loyalty to you and her fondness of your antics have her doing just about anything, even if it's rucking down her cargo pants and boxers to give you access to her pussy like she doesn't need to leave in an hour.
You just might be the only person in DisCity capable of wrangling concessions (and body-trembling orgasms) out of Serpent Eye's most disciplined escort.
In contrast, Shawn's lack of shame can rival that of someone with a devastating lack of social awareness when she's given a cellphone and good wifi. She talks big about kissing you until you're dizzy and swaying in her lap, but no no no don't worry, she'd say with the confidence of a cat slowly wriggling on its hind legs while poised to lunge at a squirming fish on the floor, because she's gotten pretty good at keeping your attention right where it should be.
She says that shit all the time, and you can't even deny that it's got a hand in your pants, making you feel so achy so deep inside.
You're easily insomnia's favorite victim and begrudgingly receptive recipient of Shawn's late night sexts. Insane pull. But still, you've sworn to God you'll get Shawn to act right sooner or later for the sake of your sanity—unless this aspiring voice actor wants to perfect the role of a cocksleeve that moans for you first.
You spread Shawn's folds open and sink all seven inches of your glossy silicone cock inside for a pretty polish. There's a wet squelch that brands Shawn's sudden embarrassment all over her face the moment you bottom out, and instead of owning up to it, Shawn doubles down and blames the fucking weather for being so cold that her pussy decided to be the perfect sheath for your fake dick to stretch out however wide you want—and right now that meant you want her gaping.
Her pussy's pretty and pink, but you fuck her so hard that the base of the harness keeps slapping her puffy folds until they're raw, red, and shiny with her arousal, because of course she likes it.
Shawn would melt into a puddle of goo if you made her worship every inch of your body with that sweet tongue. She bends over backwards for you like a job she wants to get promoted in on the reg—and for the record, you've seen her bend. Pleasing is the one verifiable skill she has besides doing really good Bella Swan impressions.
Shawn also knows you well enough to know you love it when she's being a little pathetic, so she ramps it up—lets herself melt into the pleasure because it meant you getting everything you could possibly want out of a relationship like yours, lets the dulcet rasp of her voice break into breathless and frantic pieces that scratch her throat each time you yank her bucking pelvis back onto your strap, letting her feel every sculpted inch designed to caress her everywhere she's sensitive. She's gone for you.
Congratulations, the internet's favorite catfish has teary eyes rolled back to the ceiling and her hips jerking up to meet your fingers to ghost her clit.
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