hello! i'm charli and i write for characters/people i like. i am currently writing mostly about oscar piastri, max verstappen, pierre gasly, charles leclerc, mick schumacher, lewis hamilton, most of the outerbanks characters, the top gun maverick characters and more!
my requests are open so feel free to send me anything (i.e social media au, imagine, one shot, etc..)
content warning ! f! and m!masturbation, use of toys (clitoral and vaginal simulation) pussy slapping (brief) perv!clark again, best friend/roommate clark, use of the word slut once, viewer discretion advised!
[ camgirl!reader x clark kent: you’re an internet sensation, the object of desire for millions of men on the internet…little do you know, one of your loyal supporters is over in the next room, a newfound but avid contributor to the honey pot. this layout is so ass but i’ll fix it later… ] ref: this ask!
clark didn’t mean to pry in on your secret. really.
it all begin with that shitty computer of yours—the one clark kept hounding on you to replace. it was impractical, honestly pretty useless. it hummed and took several minutes to process simple actions—not before completely shutting down. clark could see your frustration and that, in spite of your reassurances that it’s fine, clark, that it truly bothered you.
so, he bought you a new one, but not without the promise that it would be useful to him, too. he knew you’d never take him up on the offer if he didn’t suggest to you that it’d be perfect to share, a quaint shared home monitor that you could both access your work on; whatever hefty assignment perry gave you two. clark was too generous for his own good, even helping you secure your job at the planet alongside him and taking you in after you were let go from your last job—some stupid thing about budget cuts although you’d been a loyal associate at your insurance firm for some years now. oh well, fuck them, you thought to yourself when you remembered, although it still vexed you.
clark was your white knight through it all.
even so, you struggled. base pay as a brand new journalist at the planet wasn’t the best. you practically had to force clark to let you help pay rent although you were barely scraping by and didn’t have much to offer. that’s when the cam girl idea came to you. you could say it wasn’t your finest moment and being financially vulnerable made you more passive to the idea. the shitty “make bank right now from your own bedroom!” ad had successful coaxed you. your last shred of dignity seemed to go to hell. and well…now, here you were.
clark did question it a little bit, when the money began to rack in and suddenly you were bringing in a heft of groceries, telling him with a shrug of your shoulder that you’d been better at saving this month and could help pitch in on necessities from now on. the truth was, the almost millions of strangers who watched you fuck yourself on camera had been the ones to pay for it all.
you’d built a regular routine by now. you positioned the camera of your laptop perfectly—one you’d been able to buy thanks to your tippers, (unbeknownst to clark), and straightened your sheets as if you weren’t just about to ruin them. you were sure to make it so that the only part of your face anyone could see were your red lips; your trademark. you were clad in black babydoll lingerie today, complete with garters, stockings, and crotchless panties. the look complimented the lipstick deliciously today.
your collection of toys had grown too extensively to keep from protruding in your bedside table drawer, the rest you’d laid out on your bed for use upon viewer request. you were giddy the way you always were before you streamed, a smile playing on your lips when you finally hit start live! your legs were closed, knees pressed tightly together while you laid back on the plush of your pillows, manicured hands resting on your stomach.
𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘! 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞...
the chat began to chime with the entrance of users on the site immediately.
“hellooo, sweet things!” you greeted your followers. “how are we doing today?”
CANDYMAN: Better now that I’ve seen you, Honey.
“awe, you’re too kind,” you hummed, teasing your hands over your tits. the most you’d give them until the tips began to roll in.
BRATTAMER69: What’ve you been up to, Honey? It’s so late…
“mmm, had to wait for my roommate to leave. missed you guys,” you sighed when your nipples began to harden at the prolonged contact. sore and sensitive with need.
CANDYMAN tipped $25 to The Honey Pot.
“thanks for donating to the honey pot, candyman,” you grinned, resting your hands back on your stomach to give yourself a break.
THIRSTYTHING: Damn. She sounds like such a cockblock
“no no, he’s nice. he has some trouble sleeping though so he’s just been in all day resting. he leaves in the middle of the night sometimes, so besides going to work he’s pretty nocturnal,” you laughed. the chimes of users entering amplified.
CANDYMAN: He?
shit, you cursed to yourself in your head. working in the industry for some months now, you learned it was best to keep sexual endeavors on the down-low. if anyone had parasocial relationships with their favorite influencers, it was the sex work community. it quickly become known fact to you that often, users had a possessive energy over you.
“uh, yeah…” you trailed off, unsure how to find a save.
CUMCAPTA1N04: Do you fuck?
“no! it’s not…he’s not…we’re not like that. i’ve known him for awhile now, y’know? he’s a great friend. it’d be weird if we did anything like that. besides, i like you guys better anyways,” you finished. another thing you realized about the industry—these fuckers loved the validation. no matter how fake it was. guilt began to prick at you, though. you knew you didn’t mean it. clark was your closest friend, your rock in the hardest of times. there was no one you really liked better than him.
CANDYMAN tipped $30 to The Honey Pot.
CANDYMAN: That’s what I like to hear, Honey
1GOODFUCK: I dunno. I think it’d be hot
CANDYMAN: That’s not what I’m paying for…
FUCKOLD: You at least let him to second or third base?
DICKUDOWN: Like a good little roommate?
you cleared your throat. “alright, candyman. anything you want me to do for you today?”
BONDAGEBANDIT: You look so pretty, baby. That the set I bought for you?
“it is!” you exclaimed, looking down at the lace that adorned your body and hugged your curves. “so glad you like it,” you said, smoothed out the wrinkles.
CANDYMAN: Why don’t you spread those pretty legs, baby?
BONDAGEBANDIT: Nah, it’s crotchless. Why don’t you make her tease herself before she gets down to it?
CANDYMAN: Because I’m the highest donator, dumbass…
you stifled a laugh. “okay guys. you know how it goes. best tip in the chat tells me what to do,” you reminded them.
CANDYMAN tipped $35 to The Honey Pot.
BONDAGEBANDIT tipped $45 to The Honey Pot.
BONDAGEBANDIT: Nice try, cheap ass…
CANDYMAN tipped $60 to The Honey Pot.
BONDAGEBANDIT tipped $100 to The Honey Pot.
“alright! it’s clear who the winner is for now,” you declared excitedly.
BONDAGEBANDIT: Put a vibe to one of those nipples, Honey. The pink one. And pinch the other one
“i like the way you think, bandit,” you chirped, taking the silicone wand from beside you and switching it on.
BONDAGEBANDIT: The strongest setting, Honey
“you betcha,” you freed your tits from the confines of your lace. more tips rolled in as they bounced over the bralette, sitting perky and taut. you brought the vibrator to a hardened bud, rolling the other in between your fingers with a gasp. “so sensitive. i’ve been waiting to touch myself all day for you all…”
CUMCAPTA1N04: So good for us…
“always,” you sighed, switching the toy between your tits. “c-can i touch my pussy now?”
CUMCAPTA1N04: Run it over your little body a bit. Then open those sexy thighs
“aye, aye, captain,” you joked, moaning out when you delved closer to your core, bringing the vibrator down over your stomach while the other hand rested on your tit. you moved down to your thighs, stopping over your empty clenching hole. you finally parted your thighs with a sigh, unclenching to reveal your pussy shining of slick from beneath your see-through crotchless lace panties.
CUMCAPTA1N04: Perfect.
CUMCAPTA1N04 tipped $15 to The Honey Pot.
CUMCAPTA1N04: Spread it open for us.
“you got it, captain.” the wand you’d left to rest on your thigh clattered beside you. you took the hand previously massaging your hand to spread your lower lips apart wide, your juices collecting on your fingers getting them drenched and sticky. you moved close enough to the camera so that your viewers were still denied full access to your face but could see your tight hole clench and twitch around nothing. “that good?” you’d gotten several more requests to slap yourself, to which you responded with several spanks to your wet hole that made you yelp but only made the tips keep filing in.
CUMCAPTA1N04: Amazing…you’re a goddess. How bout the vibe and a dildo? The lifelike one?
CANDYMAN: Or better yet, the thrusting vibrator with the tongue?
CANDYMAN tipped $20 to The Honey Pot.
“ooh,” you marveled reading the comment. “that’s a good one, it’s been awhile.”
more tips and comments began to spill in in agreement.
“alright then.” you perused the toys before your eyes landed on one of the naughtiest yet that you owned. a pink vibrator with the tip shaped like that of a cock and a tongue attached above it with several different vibration, thrusting, and tongue-licking pattern modes to try. the thrusting mode had a sliding ring for a realistic feel. the toy was practically made so that you hardly any work to do on your own, nothing but play with your tits.
CANDYMAN: Any mode or speed. Have fun
“i like the sound of that,” you smiled, the red lipstick vibrant in the camera frame. “going to touch a little first,” you said, gasping at the contact of the tight circles you rubbed on your slick clit, the other hand spreading you open. you teased your wet slit, stroking lightly up and down from your clit before finally taking the toy in your hand again. you inched it in slowly with a moan, taking it to the hilt with a tight clench around it. “ohhhh,” you cried aloud. “feels so nice after the wait,” you giggled.
you turned the thrusting mode on to the fastest, strongest setting. “oh, fuck!” you moaned.
BONDAGEBANDIT: Shit…
FUCKOLD: Taking it like a good little slut
“shit, i think i bit off more than i could chew,” you laugh nervously, clamping your hand over your mouth, eyes crossed when you pushed the vibrator in a slight bit more so that it was perfectly snug within your hole.
FUCKOLD: Why don’t you try the tongue?
“mmm, sure. just- ahhh! need a second,” you exclaimed loudly, twisting the nubs of your nipples. after a moment, you hit the button to turn on the tongue-licking motion. you fell hard back into your pillows, throwing your hands behind your head. “feels so fucking good. shit! too much!” you moaned, tears welling up in your eyes.
FUCKOLD tipped $50 to The Honey Pot.
FUCKOLD: Cum for us.
you clenched hard around the toy, the overstimulation of the tongue and cock working in tandem bringing you to a height of climax that had your back arching, afraid slivers your face might’ve been shown, only to see comments about how good you came, how pretty you looked.
THIRSTYTHING: Damn, that was hot
Subscribed now
FUCKOLD: You weren’t subscribed before, dipshit?????
you laughed at the quips in the chat, the futile stupidity of randoms fighting for you and over you in the form of chat comments.
“thank you, guys! god, that was so good,” you chuckled, still panting post-orgasm. the toy was sticky and drenched with your juices when you finally pulled it out of you. “how ‘bout i suck it all off clean for you guys since since you’ve been so kind and gave me an amazing orgasm?”
CUMCAPTA1N04: Hell yeah
BONDAGEBANDIT: Shit yes, Honey
you smiled, and opened your mouth to show your outstretched tongue. you swirled your tongue around the length and girth of the cock then took it deep in your throat, slightly gagging. the lipstick had smeared slightly around your lips now. you wiped away drool slipping from the corner of your lips. taking it from the inside of your open mouth, you showed off your work to your fans with a smile. “how’s that?”
BONDAGEBANDIT: Perfect Honey.
FUCKOLD: Such a pretty pussy and perfect mouth, wish I had them wrapped around me…
it was then that you heard the wrestle of the key inside your apartment door, that janky keyhole that needed fixing shoved around.
“shit,” you exclaimed, setting the toy aside. “roomie’s back. don’t want him to hear me talking to you guys,” you laughed. “great as he is, he doesn’t know about my side gig and i don’t want him to hear about it any time soon. have a good night—or day, wherever you are, guys!” you smiled, waving bye to the camera and thanking your tippers again before closing your laptop.
you were still covered in your own spend from the events of the night, an hour or half or so you’d spend attending to the demands of total strangers—surprising yourself at the length of your activities. it felt nowhere near that long, contrary to the reading of your digital clock. 12:34 am. geez. you needed a shower.
you wrapped your pink silk robe around your body—the expensive victoria secret one your tippers paid for— and took a loose clean towel with you. you hummed to yourself, making your way towards the bathroom when you bumped into clark.
“whoa!” you exclaimed in surprise.
“oh! so sorry, honey,” he threw his arms up in defense. it would be cute if the honey didn’t make you jolt in place.
“wh- what?” you looked like a deer caught in headlights just upon hearing the nickname.
“sorry,” he said again, taken by your own surprise. “didn’t mean to scare you.”
nicknames weren’t uncommon between you and clark. although you weren’t anything more than friends, clark didn’t shy away from the sweet occasional honey, or sweetie. you supposed after the events of your previous stream only being mere moments ago that you couldn’t help but be startled by the nickname.
“that’s alright, clark.” you said with a gulp, continuing on your path to the bathroom.
he nodded and let you past before you stopped in the doorway.
when you squinted, you swore you could see rubble in his hair, little specks adorning the crown of his head. he looked strange, his clothes ruffled and flannel shirt inside out like he’d only just changed before coming in, like there was something about his appearance he didn’t want you to see. maybe he’d just had a hookup. the thought made your heart sink a little bit. like you weren’t just fucking yourself on cam for millions of people to see.
“clark, come here.”
his eyes widened with worry, cautiously moving towards you.
you picked the rubble—little specks or whatever they were—from his hair, patting his head down with a shy smile after you finished.
“there. you just had something,” you clarified. clark was so tall you craned your neck a bit to look up at him. it was unlike any other time you interacted or talked together, only, this time, it felt oddly tense—unspoken secrets between the both of you seemed to thicken the air. you cleared your throat when you nodded. “busy night?”
“yeah. you wouldn’t believe…” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his head. “you?”
“uhhh…no. just stayed in. nothing much,” you laughed nervously. “i’m just gonna…” you gestured to your towel and the shower behind you.
“of course! don’t let me keep you,” he emulated your nervous laughter before you smiled and clicked the door shut. a shaky sigh left you as you slid down against the door, where clark still stood behind, eyes boring into the blank white of it.
clark seemed utterly stumped for the first time in what felt like ages. he had to stick through the aggravated cries of perry yelling about clark’s blank screen throughout his 8-hour shift. it wasn’t like there wasn’t anything interesting to write about; just the previous night when he’d stumbled in late when you were doing god knows what at that ungodly hour—he’d been strangling some extraterrestrial beast to its knees as superman—not before changing into some ragged flannel in the case that you’d be up and see him doing an awkward dance back to his room in your shared apartment—which you did. he sighed to himself. fucking writer’s block.
he was beat, and in spite of your sweet encouragement throughout the day, couldn’t bring himself to write more than a few words. so, he saved the shit for home, like any true procrastinator would. he made his way to the computer when you were out on some errand, getting your laptop fixed that he was unaware you even had, and how you had it.
he signed in to see you were still logged in. it was an unspoken thing that both of you logged out after each use, so he was surprised to see windows still opened. “oh gosh,” he yelped, seeing an ad of a half-naked blonde woman on the screen—one of those sketchy, almost comedic ads reading “annie from metropolis is fifteen miles away from you and wants to play.” he clicked off the ad after staring for much too long. it was probably one of those ads to the bootleg websites you loved so much to pirate movies, that clark argued was morally wrong. that’s what he figured it was, anyways. only to see—
“oh, fuck!” clark couldn’t stop the curse from leaving his mouth any quicker than it happened.
clicking the pop-up ad only revealed something worse, it seemed. he was met with the sight of you. well, bits and pieces of you. nonetheless, he connected the dots that it was you obscenely quickly. it all seemed to make sense, his worst suspicions confirmed when he clicked on a video of one of your live archives against his better judgment.
although all he could see of your face was your red lipstick, he couldn’t shake the certainty that it was you, all you. he’d know those lips anywhere—that special red you saved only for special occasions (or so he thought) that bedspread and bedframe, the stuffed animal peeking in the corner barely hidden from the frame that he’d got you for your birthday. your complexion and figure were the same.
it registered to him that he’d hear you moan into your pillows on occasion, when you’d thought he couldn’t hear or wouldn’t be back home for awhile—then hear you murmur as if you were talking to someone. it all seemed to make sense now. the video he clicked on was your most recent. the time published read 12:32am. just moments before he came home. no wonder you’d looked so flustered. while he was trying to hide that he was adjusting his pants seeing you in that pretty pink robe—and scared that you’d seen it and wanted to confront him, only to remove the rubble from his hair. oh, he was screwed.
he scrolled past the first few moments. his mouth fell slack open seeing you inch the fake cock inside your wet heat, that for so long he admittedly wanted to see. he tried to shake the thought but made no effort to click off the video. he recognized the toy, one that he’d remorsefully seen after rifling through your bedside table for some batteries he’d left in your room after changing your smoke alarm. needless to say he never went in without your permission again.
well, there was the time he’d come in for your laundry, taking your dirty used panties to his nose with some guilt. his slacks began to tighten as he continued watching you; listening in intently on your wanton moans, your cries on that fake cock and that tongue flicking on your clit. the toy worked your cunt hard while you played with your tits, arching back into your pillows.
“golly, i’m sorry baby…” he apologized as if you were there when he finally freed his aching hard cock from his boxers, rising from within its confines. he stroked it slow, coaxingly, as if hesitating now would make him any less guilty of what he was doing.
“so pretty,” he murmured, his eyes ran over the lace lingerie perfectly hugging your body. in all your years of friendship he was in disbelief that he never got the privilege of seeing you this way. god, he loved those crotchless panties. he wished it was you making you feel this way, your face twisted in pleasure, mouth fallen open and eyes screwed tight shut. he spat into his hand to make his cock slick and slide his hand up and down on it with more ease. “you’re unbelievable.” he was moaning out with you, quickening his strokes timing with the hard thrusts of the toy hitting deep in your cunt. he brought a teasing thumb to his leaky pink tip, the other reaching down to his heavy balls. “you make me so sensitive…”
he began to stroke faster, faster than the speed at which your toy was slamming into you. “gosh!” he cried, cumming when you did—your moans, that visible, prolonged clench of your pussy hard around the toy, and the final arch of your back egged him on. the video continued playing while he panted after a short huff. guilt began to gnaw at him when he heard you say, “shit. roomie’s back. don’t want him to hear me talking to you guys. great as he is, he doesn’t know about my side gig and i don’t want him to hear about it any time soon.” it occurred to him again that he’d found your account and explored it of his own volition…without you permission. “oh no…oh gosh…” his head fell into his hands. he was unsure how he’d go about pretending he never saw what he did from here on out. he suddenly realized why you’d been logged in from here—to see the stats of your income from the site on the right sidebar beside your videos—pushing tens of thousands, much to clark’s disbelief. or belief—he could in fact fathom the idea that this many people would want to watch you offer you up this much money. it was likely you had to use your shared monitor to check your earnings as your computer had been broken.
maybe he’d missed that janky knock of your keys slamming into that shitty door the way it always did, because—
“clark?” you exclaimed with a gasp, seeing him sat there with your lingerie-clad body blown up on the screen. his hands want to cover his crotch in a frantic hurry, and wipe at the cum on the front of his slacks and the keyboard.
max verstappen x !o’ward single mother reader
smau
they fooled no one | @princepiastri
there’s a fine line between love and hate
smau
ending the war | @/princepiastri
max’s girlfriend loves to post embarrassing photos of him
smau
Ginger Spice’s daughter!reader x Max Verstappen | @alonetimelover
After getting over her fear of getting into a relationship, YN started to ‘soft launch’ her new partner. Of course everybody knew who it was, but she wanted her fun. Harry didn’t like it and still was petty. Max had had enough.
smau
The Missing Ring | @charlotteking27
When you can’t find your engagement ring on Monaco Grand Prix morning, you spend the entire race day desperately hiding your bare finger from cameras, but Formula 1 fans notice everything, and the internet explodes with breakup theories and conspiracy threads about your relationship with Max.
Practice Makes Perfect | @/charlotteking27
Max is teaching you how to sim race, but you are so bad, so when Max is gone to races, you are practicing and getting better, and one day you surprise Max by showing the improvement.
The pretty interviewer | @/charlotteking27
You are Max’s favorite interviewer…so much that he will not stop flirting with you.
Ashamed | @lovingperfectionsblog
You cannot stay with a man that is ashamed to be with you.
Mini Verstappen Series Masterlist | @multifandomgirl08
At the end of 2020, Max Verstappen gets the surprise of his life when he finds out that his ex-girlfriend had given birth to a son, his son. A year and a half later Max’s longtime girlfriend of 8 months finds out about his son Nico.
Mommy and Me [Mini Verstappen Series | @/multifandomgirl08
Late one evening after dinner Y/N brought up the idea to Max for her to take Nico out for the day.
Something Bad, Something Good | @/multifandomgirl08
Reader deals with the haters on Twitter, Nico calls Reader Mama. Max claps back at the haters on Instagram like the malewife that he strives to be.
just screeching tyres & true love | @maplesyrupsainz
in which an attempt to sabotage your relationship works in your favour
Do-over | @/maplesyrupsainz
in which they meet again and rekindle their relationship much to the delight of their fans
smau
My girls | @lewisvinga
max being the absolute best girl dad to y/n’s daughter, even if she isn’t his
Aristocat | @/lewisvinga
y/n couldn’t pass up the opportunity to make an instagram account for hers and max’s latest child
𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐚 | @imnameimswrld
in which a simple can of cherry cola changes the whole dynamic of a pair of rivals relationship
This One's For Your Girlfriend | @stzrgirl4norris
what is the best way to get revenge out of your cheating boyfriend? simple answer. date his favorite driver.
Sonnet No. 33 | @/stzrgirl4norris
Max falls in love with the cute fan who is also a double major student with a lot to teach him
FULL OF FAN BEHAVIOR, | @nouvellevqgue
smau
Long live the walls we crashed through | @propertyofhenrywinter
you are involved in a crash so horrid everyone assumes you couldn’t have survived.
driver!reader
the cat sitter (series) | @archiverstappen
christian horner’s daughter!reader | @maybankprincess
in which yn promised she would never fall for a driver until a certain driver made her take back her promise
smau
freckle kisses | @auggieblogs
cuddling > anything else | @/auggieblogs
Playing Cupid | @pucksandpower
convinced that you and Max must be the most oblivious people on earth, the rest of the grid decide to take matters into their own hands
Red Bull driver!Reader
Young Love and Old Money | @/pucksandpower
Max quickly learns that life with the paddock’s favorite nepo baby as his girlfriend is never boring
stroll!reader
Wagification | @/pucksandpower
your job was slowly crushing your soul and stealing your sanity … until Max showed you the pleasure to be found in letting yourself be cherished and cared for (or in which a chronically overworked Sky Sports analyst becomes a WAG)
Since Forever | @/pucksandpower
there’s been one constant in Max’s life since his first wobbly toddler steps in the paddock — he’s loved her since he was ten, through scraped knees and family vacations — and now it’s time that the rest of the world knows it too
Schumacher!Reader
Crazy Cravings | @/pucksandpower
pregnancy cravings can make you (and your husband) do crazy things … neither of you particularly minds
Right of Way | @/pucksandpower
you park in a handicap spot because you actually need it. He calls you a selfish asshole before noticing your prosthetic leg. Most men would apologize and disappear. Max Verstappen buys you lunch, falls pathetically in love with you, and eventually tells his father to fuck off when he insults you in the paddock. Sometimes the worst first impressions make the best love stories.
professional curiosity | @velveteenrxbbits
an indycar star headed for history meets a formula 1 champion who’s already there. it only takes a little fumble and a little bit of meddling from her teammates for fate to do the rest.
smau
Shared Custody | @miaaxxzf1
Fresh move-in and your indoor cat is already sneaking to the balcony next door for her bengal boyfriend
ITS BRITNEY BITCH | @lecz3li
where in you're nico rosberg's younger sister who decided to appear more frequently on the f1 media and races, so what happens if you caught an eye of a dutch lion?
smau
BONUS HEART | @sainzxn
working as the red bull racing media admin meant your daughter was familiar with the paddock, amd the one and only max verstappen.
Family Game Stream | @lap90
Max is mid-stream — headphones on, super focused, chat going wild —when a tiny knock hits his door. Their toddler peeks in, clutching a stuffed animal, big sleepy eyes. The rest of the stream is basically Max doing baby-talk commentary while pretending his toddler is carrying the whole team.
The Space Between | @/lap90
two years ago, Max Verstappen asked his wife for space, crumbling under the pressure of a championship fight. He got the space, but he lost his family. Now, Y/N is back in the paddock, but she’s not alone. As Max fights to prove he’s more than just a weekend father, Y/N must decide if she’s ready to move on with the “perfect” guy, or if she’s brave enough to return to the man who broke her heart—but never stopped holding it.
The Quiet Commitment | @/lap90
symbolic present → commitment level unlocked.
His Favourite | @tracksidebaby
It's no secret that Max Verstappen has no time for press, media and interviews. That is unless you're there.
smau
Vogue Beauty Secrets | @ijustwannabecool
Vogue asks Y/N to film her skincare and makeup routine.
love song | @sainzzreputaticn
a slip up reveals a secret about max’s personal life and everybody is invested. Schumacher!Reader
smau
5 times | @disneyprincemuke
there are five times max almost caught himself saying he loves you, and then there’s the time that he finally let you know. horner’s niece!reader
we’re on each other’s team | @norris55s
red bull driver reader x max verstappen social media au
Finish line | @/norris55s
red bull engineer reader x max verstappen social media au
Babygirl | @chillielo
max verstappen, f1 driver, three-time world champion, and your babygirl.
YOU AND ME AGAINST THE WORLD | @katebishopsbow
nobody enjoys being booed, and even the toughest of fighters like max verstappen would get disheartened from it. looking right through his act on camera, you decided to give your brother a call to tell him how proud of him you were. what you didn’t expect though, was to hear max cry.
max verstappen x sister!reader
navy fury | @delulujuls
max is struggling with asking for help, reader is trying her best to let him know that she always got his back
celebrations are in order | @cutielando
in which you make the most of his third WDC
smau
you mean everything | @predestinatos
max needed a wedding date and you were used to being his fake partner.
At Fault | @itsallyscorner
Max invites his ex to a gp and upsets you. Soft and stubborn Max, but he’s a cutie. A mix between angst and fluff, but mostly fluff towards the end. Lots of reader just ranting.
WHERE THE HELL IS MY HUSBAND | @/lecz3li
where in ' ever since you posted the engagement ring, everyone started thinking you're engaged to this driver and it drove max crazy and decided he wanted to reveal it himself.
| You get into NC State and Christina Koch is your professor |
Guys this is my first time EVER writing a fanfic so lmk if you like it and want more 🥹
When you got into NC State, you didn’t think your life could get any better. When you found out that Christina Koch would be your electrical engineering professor, you found that to be untrue very quickly. You had admired her ever since her record breaking time on the ISS, and even more so after she was on the Artemis II crew. You were heartbroken when she announced her retirement from NASA shortly after the crew returned. “Needing an escape from the public eye,” she claimed.
When it came out that she would be working at NC State was an electrical engineering professor you were over the moon. Having the opportunity to be taught by one of the most qualified engineers ever, especially one you admired so much, made you shake with excitement. You had doubts that you would even get in to NC State, and had even more doubts that she would even be your professor if you did, as there were 2 other professors in the same field of expertise as her.
While you were elated that you got into your dream school while also being taught by one of your biggest inspirations, you were also mortified. You did admire Christina, yes, but it was much more than that. You were in love with her. You spent hours listening to podcasts she was featured in, watching and re-watching the Artemis II livestreams just to see her, continuously revisiting her Instagram to see photos of her. You thought about what it would feel like to be enveloped by her form. What she would taste like in the dark. What she might sound like when she was consumed by pleasure.
The thought of having to sit in a lecture hall being taught by THE Christina Koch absolutely excited, horrified, and undeniably turned you on.
If Christina Koch went to the moon, I can do this assigment, I can make that phone call, I can try snowboarding for the first time, I can finish this reaserch paper, I can study for that exam, I can get out of bed with a little more wonder. If she could go to the moon, I can do anything.
This is a little series of work scenarios. This is my first time writing something like this so please bare with me 🫶🏻
Slight NSFW warning?? Nothing too major, just hints of teasing.
(Before we get into anything, can we just take a minute to appreciate this woman, because omg...)
● When you're at work, she'll do anything she can to get you riled up. She'll always inch just that little bit closer to you so you drown in her musky scent (bonus points if she's been working out too).
●She'll always know when you're watching her, and she'll show this by flexing her arms more to show off her biceps, sending you crazy.
●Christina knows the perfect way to distract you. While you are checking over reports and analysing for any data mishaps, she'll come into your office as casual as ever, but slowly making her way around to your desk, never taking her eyes off of you. She'll come up from behind you, one arm on the desk next to your's, and the other tracing patterns up and down your other arm. Light, yet effective. Lips just below your ear, whispering sweet nothings in a low, deepened tone. So dark but seductive. An obvious hint of authority in her tone, sending shivers down your spine, making you hum in absolute delight, and your legs squeeze together, to which she lets out a low, breathy chuckle, proud of the way she makes you feel.
●Christina is very attentive of you. She knows that even with the slightest change in body language, something is wrong. She'll know just by the slightest look in your eye that you aren't ready to talk about whatever is bothering you. So instead of cornering you into talking, she waits until you go on break and hatches a plan. She'll bring you back the freshest bouquet with your favourite flower. She'll get them set up in a vase and put them on your desk. Next, she would pinch your newly bought pile of sticky notes, and on each one, there would be either a favourite memory that she has of you, or she'll write about your first date, leave inspirational quotes, anything in hopes of easing whatever id running rampant in your mind, and with the sticky notes, she would plaster them alllll over your wall, your desk, laptop, even on reports you haven't quite finished yet, literally everywhere. And she would just wait in your office awaiting your return. You return from your break, headed straight to your office. You walk in and you stop. You scan every bit of your office. Your eyes make your way to your desk, and there she is. You don't say anything, but you manage a little smile, eyes glistening ever so slightly. Christina edges towards you, in slow, steady movements, and ever so gently, she brings an arm around you, and guides you towards her chest, which your head lays upon. Her other arm steadily reaches your back, gently rubbing it, in an effort to ground and calm you.
This was my FIRST ever attempt at writing and I'm not fully sure how to feel, but I'm glad I did it anyway :D
Smut Warning ! Finger fucking, Finger riding, Edging, Oral, Strap on, Strap on sucking, Scissoring. Squirting, Face fucking, Sex on the floor.
The house is quiet when we get back.
Too quiet, especially after the noise of the restaurant—the clinking glasses, the low music, the way Christina kept looking at me like she was waiting for my reaction to everything.
Now it’s just us.
She stops right at the front door, like she’s in no rush to go in, keys still in her hand.
I turn to her, still smiling a little, still not over it. “Thank you for tonight, baby.”
She looks at me like it was obvious.
“You deserve it.” she says, quiet, certain.
I gave her a smile before leaning in—pressing a quick kiss to her lips—soft, warm, lingering just a second longer than planned.
When I pull back, she’s still looking at me like that.
Then she tilts her head slightly toward the door. “I’m not done, by the way.”
I blink. “What?”
“There’s something else,” she says, a small hint of a smile slipping through. “In the living room.”
Now I’m curious.
She finally unlocks the door, and we step inside together.
The lights are low.
And right there on the table—
A box.
Medium-sized, wrapped, surrounded by scattered flower petals like she went all out when I wasn’t looking.
I let out a quiet laugh, already turning back to her.
“You’re insane,” I say, stepping closer again, hands finding her shirt this time.
“How long have you been planning this?”
She doesn’t answer right away.
She picks up the box and places it gently in my hands, her fingers brushing mine just a second too long.
“Open it.”
I hesitate for half a second — not because I don’t want to, but because of the way she’s looking at me. Like she’s already imagining exactly how this is going to end. My pulse kicks up.
Still, I lift the lid.
“Oh…”
Lace. Delicate black lace, soft and expensive-looking, folded perfectly inside. It’s not something you grab last-minute. This is deliberate. Christina picked this out thinking about how it would look on my skin, how it would cling, how little it would leave to the imagination.
My fingers trail over the fabric slowly, feeling the intricate patterns. Heat blooms low in my stomach.
I glance up. Christina hasn’t looked away once. Her eyes are dark, patient, hungry.
“Too much?” she asks, but her voice is low and steady. She already knows the answer.
I shake my head fast. “No. God, no. It’s just… you really picked this out for me?”
A small, casual shrug. “Thought it’d look perfect on you.”
The air between us shifts — thicker, heavier. I close the box slowly, suddenly hyper-aware of her closeness, the faint scent of her perfume from dinner still clinging to her skin, the way her gaze hasn’t left my face.
“You’re insane,” I whisper.
She steps closer, not rushing, just closing the distance until I can feel the warmth radiating off her body.
“Do you not like it?” Her voice drops even lower.
“That’s not the problem.” I swallow, looking up at her. “You don’t just hand someone something like this and expect them to act normal.”
Her lips curve into a small, knowing smile. “I wasn’t expecting normal, baby.”
Of course she wasn’t.
I glance back down at the box, then back at her, my cheeks burning. “It’s really pretty though…”
“Yeah?” She’s right there now, barely an inch of space left. “I want to see you try it on, beautiful.”
My breath catches. “Now?”
Christina doesn’t even blink. “Right now.”
I let out a shaky little laugh and nod, already turning toward the hallway with the box in my hands. “Okay… give me a second—”
“Do it here.”
I freeze mid-step. Slowly, I turn back around to face her. My heart is hammering.
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not.” Her eyes lock onto mine, calm but intense. “Put it on for me. Slowly.”
The command lands low in my belly. I know that look — she wants the show.
Heat rushes through me. My fingers tighten around the box.
I set it down on the table, then reach for the zipper of my dress without breaking eye contact. The sound of the zipper coming down feels loud in the quiet room. I let the fabric slide off my shoulders inch by inch, the cool air hitting my skin as the dress pools at my feet.
Christina’s eyes darken. She doesn’t move, doesn’t speak — just watches.
I step out of the dress, now standing in just my bra and panties. My hands are steady even though my pulse isn’t. I pick up the lingerie, letting the lace unfold in my fingers. Then, deliberately slow, I hook my thumbs into my panties and slide them down my legs, bending at the waist so she gets the full view while never looking away from her face.
Her breathing has changed. Good.
I straighten up, completely bare now, and start slipping into the new set. First the panties — I pull them up slowly, letting the delicate lace settle against my hips, adjusting them with careful fingers so she can see exactly how they fit. Then the top. I take my time fastening every little clasp, running my hands over the fabric, smoothing it over my breasts, letting my nipples harden visibly against the sheer material.
The whole time, my eyes stay on hers. I know what this does to her. I can see it in the way her jaw tightens, the way she shifts her weight like she’s holding herself back.
When I’m finally dressed in nothing but the lace she chose for me, I tilt my head slightly and ask, voice soft but teasing:
“Like this?” I ask, voice softer than I mean it to be, standing there in nothing but the delicate black lace she picked out for me.
Christina’s eyes drag over every inch of me like she’s memorizing it. For a second she doesn’t answer — just looks. Then she reaches out, her fingers curling gently but firmly around my wrist.
“Come here, baby.”
She pulls me toward the couch, not rough, but with that quiet confidence that makes my knees feel weak. I follow, heart pounding, and let her guide me until she sits down first. Before I can even think, she tugs me forward again — right onto her lap.
I straddle her thighs, the lace panties already feeling warmer against her clothed legs. Her hands settle on my hips instantly, thumbs brushing slow circles over the thin fabric.
“Fuck…” she breathes out, voice low and rough. “You look so fucking sexy in this.”
Her palms slide up my sides, slow and deliberate, feeling the curve of my waist, the way the lace hugs my ribs. One hand keeps roaming higher while the other stays at my hip, gripping just tight enough to hold me in place.
“Look at you…” Her fingers trace the underside of my breasts through the sheer top, thumbs brushing over my nipples until they tighten even more under her touch. “This lace was made for these tits. So pretty… so fucking perfect on you.”
I let out a shaky breath, my hands resting on her shoulders as her touch gets bolder. She cups my breasts fully now, squeezing gently, then firmer, rolling my nipples between her fingers until a soft whimper slips from my lips. Her other hand drifts down to my ass, palming it, pulling me closer so I’m pressed right against her.
“Christina…” I whisper, already feeling heat pooling between my legs.
She leans in, lips brushing my collarbone first — soft, warm. Then she starts trailing kisses up my neck, slow and wet, sucking lightly at the sensitive spot just below my ear. I tilt my head to give her more, a quiet moan escaping as her tongue flicks against my skin.
“You smell so good,” she murmurs against my neck, voice vibrating through me. “Taste even better. My pretty wife… all dressed up just for me.”
Her mouth keeps moving — open-mouthed kisses, little nips, then soothing with her tongue — while her hands never stop exploring. One slides back to my waist, gripping hard; the other teases my breast again, pinching just enough to make me gasp.
I can’t take it anymore. I turn my head, searching for her mouth.
Christina meets me halfway.
The kiss starts deep — no hesitation. Her lips are soft but hungry, tongue sliding against mine the second we connect. I moan into her mouth as she pulls me tighter against her, one hand tangling in my hair while the other grips my ass, rocking me slowly on her lap. The kiss turns messy fast — tongues tangling, breaths mixing, little wet sounds filling the room as we devour each other.
She tastes like the wine from dinner and something darker, sweeter. I kiss her harder, grinding down against her just a little, loving the way she groans low in her throat and tightens her hold on me.
When we finally break for air, both of us breathing hard, her forehead rests against mine. Her lips are swollen, eyes dark with want.
“God, I love you like this,” she whispers, thumb stroking my bottom lip. “My sexy fucking wife…”
Her forehead rests against mine, both of us breathing hard, lips still brushing.
My hips twitch on her lap, already searching for more friction.
Christina’s hand slides down between us without warning. Her fingers press firmly over the lace covering my pussy, rubbing slow, deliberate circles right against my clit through the thin fabric.
A sharp gasp leaves me. The lace is already damp, and the way she’s touching me makes it cling even more.
“Fuck, baby… you’re soaked,” she murmurs, voice low and smug. Her fingers keep moving in steady, teasing strokes, pressing the wet lace against my swollen clit. “All that just from trying on a little lingerie for me?”
I whimper, hips rolling into her hand before I can stop myself. The friction feels good — too good — but it’s not enough. Every slow rub makes the ache between my legs worse.
“Christina…” I moan softly, trying to grind harder against her fingers.
She chuckles darkly, not speeding up at all. Instead she presses a little firmer, letting the soaked lace drag over my clit again and again while her other hand squeezes my ass, holding me exactly where she wants me.
“Look at you… humping my hand like you can’t help it.” Her lips brush my ear. “Such a needy little wife tonight.”
The pressure keeps building, slow and relentless. My thighs start to tremble. I can feel how wet I am, the lace completely drenched now, every circle of her fingers making obscene little wet sounds.
“Please…” The word slips out before I can hold it back.
Christina’s fingers pause for just a second. She pulls back enough to look me in the eyes, that wicked little smirk on her lips.
“Please what, baby?”
I bite my lip, breathing ragged. “I need… I need you inside me.”
She tilts her head, still rubbing agonizingly slow circles over my clit. “Inside you? With what?”
Her fingers press harder for emphasis, making me gasp and buck against her hand.
“Fingers,” I whine, voice breaking. “Please, Christina… slip your fingers inside me.”
She laughs softly, low and mocking. “Aww, listen to you. Already begging so sweetly.” Her fingers keep teasing, never giving me what I actually want, just dragging the soaked lace back and forth until I’m shaking. “But you can do better than that, can’t you? My pretty wife doesn’t just ask… she begs.”
I’m panting now, hips desperately chasing her touch. The ache is unbearable.
“Christina, please—” My voice cracks. “I’m so wet for you… I need your fingers in my pussy. Please, baby, stop teasing me. I’ll do anything—just fuck me with your fingers.”
Her eyes darken, but she still doesn’t give in right away. She leans in, lips ghosting over my neck while her fingers keep that torturous rhythm.
“Beg harder,” she whispers against my skin, voice dripping with control. “Tell me exactly how bad you need it. Tell me what a desperate little slut you are for your wife’s fingers.”
Heat floods my face. My whole body is trembling on her lap. I’m past the point of pride.
“Please, Christina… I’m your desperate little slut,” I moan, grinding shamelessly against her hand. “I need your fingers stretching me open so fucking bad. I’m dripping for you—look how wet the lace is. Please… please push them inside me. I’ll be so good for you, just fuck me already—”
Before I can finish the sentence, Christina finally hooks the lace aside with two fingers.
She doesn’t ease in.
Two thick fingers slide deep inside me in one smooth thrust, curling instantly against that spot that makes my back arch hard.
A loud, broken moan rips out of me as she starts pumping slowly, deep and deliberate, her thumb finding my clit again.
“That’s it,” she growls against my ear, voice rough with satisfaction. “Good girl. Take my fingers just like that.”
She doesn’t go slow anymore.
Her fingers thrust deep and hard, curling perfectly against that spongy spot inside me with every stroke. The wet, filthy sounds of her pumping in and out of my soaked pussy fill the room, loud and obscene. My hips jerk helplessly on her lap, riding her hand as best I can while the lace panties are shoved to the side.
“Fuck, listen to how wet you are,” she murmurs, lips brushing my neck. “You’re dripping down my fingers, baby. Such a messy little cunt for me.”
I moan loud, head falling back as she speeds up, fucking me with steady, punishing strokes. Her thumb keeps perfect pressure on my clit, rubbing tight circles that make my thighs shake around her.
“You’re clenching so tight around me,” Christina talks me through it, voice low and steady even as her fingers wreck me. “That’s it… squeeze my fingers like you’re trying to keep them inside. Feel how deep I am? Right there—yeah, that spot. You’re gonna fall apart for me tonight, aren’t you?”
Every thrust pushes me higher. Pleasure coils tight in my belly, hot and overwhelming. I’m grinding down on her hand, chasing it, whimpering every time her fingers drag against my walls and her thumb flicks my swollen clit.
“Christina—fuck—feels so good…” I gasp, nails digging into her shoulders.
She chuckles darkly, never slowing down. “I know it does, baby. Look at you… my pretty wife falling apart on my fingers. You love when I fuck this greedy pussy, don’t you? So wet and sloppy just from a little teasing.”
Her free hand grips my ass hard, helping me ride her fingers faster. The stretch, the pressure, the constant filthy praise — it’s too much and not enough all at once.
“Please…” I whine, voice breaking as the edge starts creeping closer. “Christina, I’m so close—”
She slows just enough to make me whimper in protest, but her fingers stay buried deep, curling lazily.
“Beg for it,” she says, eyes locked on mine, that smug smirk back on her lips. “Beg for me to let you cum on my fingers like a good girl.”
I don’t even hesitate. The words spill out desperate and broken.
“Please, baby—please let me cum. I’ve been so good for you tonight. I need it so bad… please let me cum on your fingers. I’ll do anything, just don’t stop—please, Christina, make me cum—”
She groans softly, clearly loving how wrecked I sound. Her fingers pick up again, faster and harder, slamming into that perfect spot while her thumb works my clit relentlessly.
“That’s my girl,” she praises, voice thick. “Keep begging. Louder. Tell me how bad you need to cum all over your wife’s hand.”
I’m shaking, right on the edge, hips bucking wildly.
“Please! Fuck—Christina, I’m gonna cum—please let me cum, I’m so fucking close, I can’t hold it—pleasepleaseplease—”
Just as the orgasm starts crashing over me, right when my walls start fluttering hard around her fingers—
Christina yanks her fingers out completely.
The sudden emptiness hits like a slap. My pussy clenches around nothing, the peak ripped away at the last second. A loud, frustrated cry tears from my throat as my hips keep twitching uselessly, orgasm denied right at the brink.
“No—no, fuck—Christina!” I whine, voice high and desperate, thighs trembling violently around her lap. I’m panting, soaked, aching worse than before.
She brings her glistening fingers up between us, eyes dark and amused as she watches me fall apart without release. A wicked little smile curves her lips.
“Aww, baby… were you about to cum?” she teases, voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Not yet. Not until I say so.”
I let out a broken sob, my whole body shaking with frustration. My pussy is throbbing, empty and dripping, clenching uselessly around nothing. The orgasm that was so close is already fading, leaving me aching and desperate in the worst way. I try to grind down against her thigh for any kind of relief, but she grips my hips hard with both hands, holding me still.
“Christina… please,” I whimper, voice cracking. “I was right there—why did you stop? I need it so bad, baby, please—”
She chuckles low, that deep, satisfied sound that makes my stomach flip. Her fingers, still shiny with my wetness, trace lazy patterns up my inner thigh, so close to where I need them but never quite touching. The lace of the lingerie is ruined, soaked and shoved messily to the side, sticking to my skin.
“Look at you,” she murmurs, eyes roaming over me like she owns every inch. “My pretty little wife, all dressed up in the gift I got her, sitting on my lap with her pussy dripping down my thighs. And you’re still begging so sweetly.” She leans in, brushing her lips against mine in a teasing almost-kiss. “You think I’m gonna let you cum that easy on our anniversary? Nah, baby. We’re just getting started.”
I whine again, trying to chase her fingers, but she pulls them away every time I get close. Tears of pure frustration prick at my eyes.
“Christina, I can’t— I need you inside me again. Please put iy in me. I’ll be good, I promise. Just let me cum this time. I’ll do anything—”
She cuts me off by sliding two fingers back inside me without warning—slow and deep this time, stretching me open again. I moan loud, head falling forward onto her shoulder as relief floods through me. But she keeps the pace torturously slow, barely thrusting, just holding her fingers there while her thumb rests lightly against my swollen clit.
“That’s it… feel that?” she whispers against my ear, voice rough. “Feel how easily you take me? Your greedy cunt is sucking my fingers right back in. So fucking wet for me.” She curls them just enough to press against that spot again, making my hips jerk. “But you don’t get to cum until I decide you’ve earned it. Understand?”
I nod frantically, biting my lip hard. “Yes—yes, I understand. Please… just don’t stop this time.”
Christina laughs softly, nipping at my neck. “Good girl. Now ride my fingers nice and slow. Show me how bad you want it. And keep talking, baby. Tell me exactly what this sloppy little pussy needs.”
I don’t even hesitate. I plant my knees on either side of her thighs and start rolling my hips, sliding up and down on her two fingers. The stretch feels so good, but it’s not enough — not nearly enough. The lace panties dig into my skin as they stay shoved to the side, wet and sticky.
“Fuck… I need you deeper, baby,” I breathe out, voice shaky as I sink down again. “I need you to fill me up and let me cum all over your hand. Please, Christina… my pussy’s aching for you.”
She hums in approval, her free hand gripping my ass to guide my movements. “That’s it. Nice and slow, just like that. Feel every inch.”
I obey, keeping the pace deliberately slow, dragging my clit against her palm with each roll of my hips. My moans come out soft and needy, eyes half-lidded as I watch her face. She looks so smug, so in control, and it only makes me wetter.
After a minute she squeezes my ass harder. “Faster now, baby. Ride me like you mean it.”
I immediately pick up speed, bouncing on her fingers with short, desperate thrusts. The wet sounds get louder — filthy squelching every time I slam down. My tits bounce in the delicate lace bra, nipples hard and visible through the thin fabric.
“Shit—Christina… feels so good,” I gasp, head tipping back. “Your fingers are so deep like this… hitting that spot every time I come down.”
She smirks, eyes dark. “Good girl. Keep going. Now slow down again… reeeal slow. Grind on them.”
I whimper but obey instantly, slowing my hips to a torturous grind, circling and pressing down so her fingers rub perfectly against my walls. The pressure builds fast this way — slow, deep, relentless.
Christina leans in, kissing along my collarbone while her thumb starts rubbing lazy circles over my clit again. “Tell me when you’re getting close, baby. Don’t you dare cum without saying it first.”
“Yes—yes, okay,” I pant, already feeling that familiar coil tightening low in my belly. I keep grinding slow and steady like she told me, thighs burning, pussy clenching rhythmically around her fingers.
It doesn’t take long. The slow grind combined with her thumb on my clit has me trembling within minutes.
“Christina… fuck, I’m close,” I whine, voice breaking. “I’m so close already—please don’t stop—”
The second the words leave my mouth, she yanks her fingers out again.
The sudden emptiness makes me cry out in pure frustration, my hips still twitching forward, chasing the lost sensation. My walls flutter around nothing, the orgasm ripped away for the second time tonight. I’m shaking, tears of desperation stinging my eyes as I grip her shoulders tight.
“Nooo—Christina, please! I told you—I was right there!” I sob, voice high and wrecked. “Why do you keep doing this to me? I need to cum so bad, baby… please, I’m begging you…”
Christina brings her soaked fingers to her lips, slowly licking them clean while she watches me fall apart on her lap. Her eyes are gleaming with dark amusement.
“Aww, poor thing,” she coos, voice sweet but cruel. “You were so close again, weren’t you? Listening so well, riding my fingers just like I told you… but you still don’t get to cum yet.” She leans in, kissing the corner of my mouth teasingly. “Look how messy you are. My pretty wife’s pussy is dripping all over my lap and you’re still not allowed to finish.”
I whimper pathetically, hips grinding uselessly against her thigh now, trying to find any friction. “Christina… I can’t take it anymore. Please… I’ll do anything. Just let me cum this time. Please—”
Christina’s eyes darken with hunger. Before I can beg again, she grabs my hips with both hands and flips me smoothly onto my back on the wide couch. I land with a soft bounce, breath catching as she towers over me for a second, looking down like I’m her favorite meal.
“Fuck, baby,” she growls, voice low and rough. She kneels on the floor right in front of the couch, spreading my legs wide and pulling me to the edge so my ass is barely on the cushion. “Look at you… my gorgeous wife all spread out for me in that pretty lace I picked out. You look so fucking sexy like this — tits spilling out of that bra, panties soaked and ruined, legs shaking… You’re beautiful, you know that? So damn beautiful it drives me crazy.”
Her hands start roaming while she talks — slow, possessive strokes up my thighs, over my hips, across my stomach, then up to cup my breasts through the delicate lace. She squeezes gently, thumbs brushing my hard nipples until I arch into her touch with a whine.
“Christina…” I moan, already losing it again. Every touch feels electric after all that edging. My skin is hypersensitive, and she knows it.
She smirks, leaning down to kiss just below my navel. “Aww, listen to you. Still so needy even after I flipped you like a little doll. You’re dripping everywhere, baby. Making such a mess on our couch… and you haven’t even cum yet.” Her hands slide back down, fingertips teasing the waistband of the lace panties. “Poor thing. All worked up and desperate because your wife won’t let you finish. How does that feel, hm?”
I whimper loudly, hips twitching up toward her face. “It feels like torture… please, Christina, I need your mouth, I need your fingers, I need you so bad—”
She chuckles darkly, mocking. “Yeah? You need my mouth that bad?” She hooks her fingers in the soaked lace and slowly pushes the panties to the side, fully exposing my swollen, glistening pussy. “Look at this pretty pussy… all puffy and wet just for me.”
Christina leans in closer, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along my inner thighs — first one side, then the other. She’s so close I can feel her hot breath ghosting over my clit, but she never touches where I need her most. Every kiss gets higher, slower, wetter, until I’m trembling and trying to grind against nothing.
“Christina—fuck—stop teasing,” I gasp, hands flying down to grip her hair. “Please… I can’t—”
She laughs against my skin, the vibration making me jolt. “Can’t what, baby? Can’t take a little more teasing from the woman who loves you?” Another kiss, this one right at the crease of my thigh, so close. “You look so fucking pretty when you’re desperate like this. All flushed and shaking… my perfect wife.”
Then, finally, she leans in and drags her tongue flat and slow from my entrance all the way up to my clit.
The moan that rips out of me is loud and broken. My back arches hard off the couch as she starts eating me out — slow, deliberate licks at first, savoring every drop like she has all night. Her hands hold my thighs open wide while her tongue circles my clit, then dips down to fuck into me shallowly before sliding back up.
“Fuck—yes—Christina…” I cry out, hips rolling against her face. The relief is overwhelming after all the denial, but she’s still going slow, still in control, still making me feel every single stroke.
She pulls back just enough to murmur against my pussy, voice thick and teasing. “Taste so good, baby. So sweet and messy. Keep making those pretty sounds for me while I eat this pretty pussy.”
Then she dives back in like she’s starving.
Christina’s tongue works me with perfect, relentless focus — long, slow licks that drag from my entrance up to my swollen clit, then tight, fast circles that make my eyes roll back. Every time I think I’m getting used to the rhythm, she switches it up: sucking my clit gently between her lips, flicking it with the tip of her tongue, then pushing her tongue inside me as deep as she can go.
I turn into a complete whimpering mess within minutes.
“Christina—oh my god—fuck…” The words spill out broken and high-pitched. My hands fist tighter in her hair, hips grinding desperately against her face. Every moan gets louder, needier. I can’t even form full sentences anymore — just desperate little sounds and half-begged pleas.
My thighs start to tremble, then shake harder as the pleasure builds fast and brutal after all that edging. Without thinking, my legs snap shut around her head, squeezing as the overwhelming sensation hits me.
Christina immediately pulls back, lips shiny and glistening with my wetness. Her eyes flash with warning as she grips my thighs and forcefully spreads them wide again, pinning them open against the couch.
“Keep your legs open,” she scolds, voice low and stern, lips brushing my inner thigh. “Don’t you dare close them around my head again, baby. You do that one more time and I’ll stop completely. Understand?”
I nod frantically, tears of frustration and pleasure pricking at my eyes. “Y-yes—sorry—please don’t stop… I’ll keep them open, I promise—”
“Good girl,” she growls, and immediately buries her face back between my legs.
This time she eats me out even more intensely — sucking my clit harder, tongue flicking faster, two fingers sliding deep inside me without warning and curling right against that perfect spot. The wet, obscene sounds of her mouth and fingers working my soaked pussy fill the entire room.
I’m lost. Whimpering, moaning, babbling her name like a prayer.
“Christina—fuck—feels too good—please—ahh—”
My legs start shaking violently. They tremble and twitch uncontrollably no matter how hard I try to keep them spread. My toes curl tight, thighs quivering as the pleasure coils tighter and tighter in my belly. I’m right there again — so fucking close — hips bucking wildly against her face while she devours me.
Christina doesn’t let up for even a second. She moans into my pussy like she loves how wrecked I sound, the vibration shooting straight through me. Her fingers pump faster, curling harder, while her tongue lashes my clit without mercy.
My whole body is shaking now — legs vibrating so hard it feels like I might fall apart. I’m gasping, crying out, a complete whimpering, dripping mess on the couch.
“Christina—baby—I’m—fuck—I’m so close again—please—”
This time Christina doesn’t pull away.
Instead, she growls right against my clit, the vibration shooting through me like electricity. “Cum for me, baby. Let go. I want to feel this pretty pussy cum all over my tongue.”
She sucks my clit into her mouth hard, tongue flicking fast and relentless while her fingers curl deep inside me, stroking that perfect spot over and over without mercy. The pressure that’s been building for so long finally snaps.
The orgasm crashes into me like a wave.
“Christina—fuck—yes—!”
My back arches violently off the couch as I cum hard, legs shaking uncontrollably around her head. I can’t even try to keep them open anymore — they clamp tight as the pleasure rips through me in powerful, pulsing waves. My pussy clenches and flutters wildly around her fingers, gushing wet and messy against her tongue while she keeps licking and sucking through every second of it.
I’m loud. Really loud. Moaning and crying out her name like it’s the only word I know, body convulsing as the orgasm drags on and on. Christina doesn’t stop — she moans into my pussy like she’s loving every drop, tongue working me through the peak and then gentling just enough to draw it out longer, milking every last tremor.
My thighs tremble violently, toes curled so tight they hurt, as the waves finally start to slow. I’m panting, whimpering, completely wrecked — chest heaving, skin flushed and sweaty, the lace lingerie sticking to my body.
Christina keeps licking softly through the aftershocks, gentle and slow now, until I’m twitching and oversensitive. Only then does she pull back, lips and chin shiny and wet with my cum. She looks up at me with dark, satisfied eyes and a proud little smirk.
“That’s my good girl,” she murmurs, voice rough and thick. She presses a soft kiss to my inner thigh, then another higher up, before crawling up my body to hover over me. “Fuck, baby… you came so hard for me. Look at you — all shaky and pretty after one orgasm. And we’re nowhere near done tonight.”
She leans down and kisses me deep, letting me taste myself on her tongue. Her hand slides between my legs again, cupping my still-throbbing pussy possessively.
Christina suddenly pulls away completely. A desperate little sound escapes me at the loss.
She chuckles, low and warm, then leans down to kiss me softly on the lips.
“Stay right here, baby,” she murmurs against my mouth, voice husky. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back. Gonna grab something real quick."
Before I can even ask what she’s up to, she’s already pushing off the couch, leaving me sprawled there — legs still spread, chest heaving, the lace lingerie damp and clinging to my skin. I watch her disappear down the hallway, my body still buzzing and sensitive.
A minute later I hear her footsteps coming back.
When she steps into the living room again, my breath catches hard.
Christina is completely naked.
The soft light from the lamp catches on every line of her body — those strong, muscular arms flexed slightly as she adjusts the black harness around her hips, the thick, realistic strap-on now jutting out proudly. Her abs are on full display, tight and defined, a faint sheen of sweat making them glisten. Her breasts sit high and full, nipples hard, and the way her thighs flex with each step has me clenching around nothing.
Fuck….
She stops a few feet away, letting me stare. One hand casually strokes the length of the strap while the other rests on her hip. That confident, slightly cocky smirk is back on her face.
“Like what you see, baby?” she asks, voice low and teasing. She takes another slow step closer, eyes raking over me in the ruined lingerie.
“You’ve been such a good girl tonight… thought my wife deserved to get properly fucked on our anniversary.”
She climbs back onto the couch, kneeling between my spread legs. The strap brushes against my inner thigh, heavy and warm from her body heat. Christina leans down, bracing one muscular arm beside my head while the other hand cups my jaw, thumb brushing my bottom lip.
“Still so wet for me,” she whispers, glancing down between us. Her fingers dip between my folds again, spreading my slickness. “You want this, don’t you? Want me to fill you up nice and deep?”
I nod quickly, breath shaky. “Yes… please, baby…”
She grins, dark eyes flashing with hunger.
Leaning in, she kisses me slow and filthy, tongue sliding against mine as the thick head of the strap pressed right against my entrance, teasing, not pushing in yet.
“Tell me how bad you want it,” she murmurs against my lips, voice rough with want. “Tell your wife exactly what you need tonight.”
I’m trembling under her, the thick head of the strap still teasing my entrance, her muscular body hovering over me like she’s barely holding herself back.
“Fuck me with it,” I breathe out, voice shaky and desperate. “Please, Christina… I want your strap. I need you to fuck me deep—please, baby.”
Christina’s eyes darken instantly. She lets out a low, satisfied hum and pulls back just enough to look down at me.
“Good girl,” she praises, brushing her thumb over my cheek. Then her voice drops, commanding.
“But first… open that pretty mouth for me.”
She shifts up on her knees, the thick strap now right in front of my face, heavy and waiting. I don’t even hesitate. I part my lips and lean forward, taking the head into my mouth. Christina groans softly, one hand sliding into my hair as I start sucking — slow at first, then wetter, messier, letting my spit coat every inch while I look up at her.
"That’s it… get it all sloppy for me, baby,” she murmurs, watching my lips stretch around the strap. “Make it nice and wet so it slides right into that greedy little pussy.”
I moan around it, sucking harder, tongue swirling, drooling until the whole length is glistening and dripping with my spit. Christina’s abs flex as she rocks her hips gently, fucking my mouth shallowly a few times before she finally pulls it out with a wet pop.
She moves back down between my legs, spreading them wider with those strong hands. The thick, now dripping-wet head presses against my entrance again.
“Ready for big mama?” she asks, voice husky.
I nod frantically. “Yes—please—”
Christina doesn’t tease anymore.She thrusts in hard in one smooth, deep stroke, burying the strap to the hilt. A loud, broken moan rips out of me as I feel myself stretch around her.
“Fuuuuck—Christina!”
She doesn’t give me time to adjust. She pulls back and slams in again, harder, setting a brutal rhythm right away. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the room as she fucks me deep and fast, her muscular arms braced on either side of my head, abs tightening with every powerful thrust.
“Oh my god—yes—fuck me!” I cry out, legs wrapping around her waist as she pounds into me.
Christina laughs breathlessly, mocking and affectionate all at once.
“Look at you… already screaming like a pathetic little slut for my strap,” she taunts, hips snapping harder. “Taking it so deep, baby. You’re creaming all over it already—fuck, listen to how wet you sound.”
She angles her hips and hits that spot perfectly on every thrust, making me see stars. I’m loud — moaning, cursing, crying out her name every time she bottoms out. The couch creaks under us from how hard she’s fucking me.
“Pathetic and pretty,” she growls, leaning down to bite my neck. “My wife falling apart so fast just from getting railed. You gonna squirt for me tonight? Gonna make a mess all over our couch like a desperate whore?”
Her pace gets even rougher, one hand sliding down to rub tight circles on my clit while she keeps thrusting deep and merciless.
The pressure builds fast — too fast.
“Christina—baby—I’m—fuck—I’m gonna—!”
“That’s it,” she snarls, never slowing down.
“Cum on my strap. Squirt for me, baby. Show me how good I’m fucking this pussy.”
It hits me like a freight train.
My whole body locks up, then explodes. I scream her name as I squirt hard, clear fluid gushing out around the strap with every brutal thrust. My pussy clenches and spasms wildly, soaking her thighs, the harness, and the couch beneath us. I can’t stop shaking, can’t stop cumming — wave after wave crashing through me while Christina keeps fucking me through it, moaning praises and filthy taunts mixed together.
“Fuck yes—look at that mess… such a good fucking girl squirting all over me.”
She slows down only when my body starts to go limp, still buried deep inside me, grinding slow and deep as I twitch and whimper through the aftershocks.
I’m a complete mess — panting hard, chest heaving, skin slick with sweat, the lingerie completely ruined and sticking to me.
Christina leans down and kisses my forehead softly, almost tenderly, before she pulls the strap out of my still-fluttering pussy with a wet sound. I let out a shaky whine at the sudden emptiness.
Before I can catch my breath, her hand slides into my hair, gripping tight at the roots. She tugs my head up firmly.
“Open,” she commands, voice low and rough.
I barely have time to part my lips before she pushes the dripping strap past them, sliding it deep into my mouth. The taste of my own cum floods my tongue instantly — sweet and messy. Christina doesn’t go slow. She starts fucking my face with steady, deep thrusts, using her grip on my hair to control my head.
I gag hard when she hits the back of my throat, eyes watering instantly as spit spills from the corners of my mouth. She doesn’t ease up. She keeps thrusting, hips rolling so the strap slides in and out of my throat, making wet, obscene choking sounds every time she pushes deeper.
“Fuck, that’s it… take it all, baby,” she groans, watching me struggle around the thick length. “Clean every drop of your squirt off my strap like a good little wife.
”Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I gag and drool, but I suck eagerly, tongue working the underside while she fucks my mouth harder. My hands come up instinctively, gripping her strong thighs for balance as she uses my throat.
After a few more rough thrusts, Christina finally pulls the strap out completely. A thick string of saliva connects my swollen lips to the shiny head before it breaks. I’m gasping, coughing softly, face a total wreck — cheeks flushed, lips puffy and shiny, chin and neck covered in my own spit and mess. Strands of hair stick to my sweaty forehead.
Christina stares down at me, eyes dark with lust. She still has one hand fisted in my hair, tilting my head back so she can admire the view.
“Mmmm… look at you,” she murmurs, voice thick with pride and hunger. “So fucking pretty like this. All messy and used, face covered in your own spit after choking on my strap. Such a pretty slut for mama."
I’m still trying to catch my breath, chest rising and falling rapidly. My hands slide up her body greedily — palms gliding over her tight abs, tracing every ridge, then moving higher to cup her breasts, thumbs brushing over her hard nipples. I squeeze and caress, feeling the heat and strength under my fingers.
In a husky, wrecked voice, I manage to whisper.
“Can I taste you now, baby…? Please… I want to taste my wife.
Christina’s eyes darken even more at my husky plea. She still has her fingers tangled tight in my hair, tilting my head back so I’m forced to look up at her. A slow, teasing smirk spreads across her lips.
“Beg for it,” she says, voice low and commanding. “Tell me exactly how bad you want to taste this pussy. Use that pretty mouth and beg like you mean it."
I’m still panting, face messy with spit, body trembling from everything she’s already done to me. But the need to have her is burning hotter than anything else. “Please, Christina…” I whisper, voice wrecked and desperate.
“Please let me taste you. I’ve been thinking about it all night. I want to bury my face between your legs and make you feel as good as you made me. I’ll be so good for you, baby… please let your wife eat your pussy. I need it so fucking bad.”
Christina watches me for a long moment, clearly enjoying how broken and needy I sound. Then she finally loosens her grip on my hair and nods once.
“Alright, baby. You earned it. Come here.” She commanded as she step out of the harness.
She shifts back on the couch, spreading her strong thighs wide for me, giving me full access. The sight of her — muscular arms resting along the back of the couch, abs tight, pussy already glistening — makes my mouth water.
I crawl forward eagerly, still wearing the ruined lingerie. Starting at her neck, I press soft, open-mouthed kisses along her skin, tasting the salt of her sweat. I move lower, trailing my lips over her collarbone, then down to one of her biceps. I kiss the hard muscle, then drag my tongue slowly over it, licking and sucking until I leave a faint mark. I do the same to the other arm, worshipping every inch of strength I can reach.
Christina lets out a low hum of approval, one hand gently stroking my hair now instead of pulling it.
I keep going, kissing my way down her body until I reach those perfect abs. My tongue traces every deep line and ridge, slow and reverent, licking and kissing across the tight muscle while I look up at her. Christina’s breathing gets heavier, her abs flexing under my mouth as I worship them.
I don’t stop there. I trail wet kisses lower, down the V of her hips, then along the tops of her thighs and inner legs, never breaking eye contact with her. Every kiss is soft and teasing, my lips brushing closer and closer to where she wants me most, but not quite there yet.
When I’m finally right between her spread legs, face inches from her soaked pussy, I press a few more soft, lingering kisses on her inner thighs… then one right above her clit… another just beside it.
Christina’s hips twitch impatiently.
I look up at her through my lashes, voice husky and dripping with need.
“Can I…?”
Christina doesn’t say a word. She just gives me a slow, deliberate nod, eyes locked on mine, that hungry smirk still playing on her lips.
That’s all the permission I need.
I lean in and press my tongue flat against her pussy, licking a long, slow stripe from her entrance all the way up to her clit. She tastes so fucking good — warm, sweet, and slick. I moan softly against her as I start eating her out properly, slow and deliberate at first, swirling my tongue around her clit in lazy circles.
Christina lets out a low groan, her abs tightening under my hands. Her breathing starts to deepen, so I pick up the pace, flicking my tongue faster, sucking gently on her swollen clit. Every time her breath hitches or she lets out a little moan, I go harder, licking and sucking with more pressure exactly where she seems to need it.
Her strong thighs start closing around my head, squeezing tight as the pleasure builds. The muscles in her legs flex hard, trapping me between them, but I don’t stop. I keep eating her like I’m starving — tongue working faster, dipping inside her, then back to her clit, sucking harder.
“Fuck… just like that, baby,” Christina groans, voice rough. “Keep that tongue on my clit… yeah, don’t you dare slow down.”
I obey instantly, focusing everything on her clit while my hands slide up to grip her hips, holding her open for me. Her legs squeeze even tighter around my head, muffling the sounds around me, but I don’t care. I keep going, licking and sucking relentlessly, moaning into her pussy so she can feel the vibrations.
Her breathing gets faster, more ragged.
“Shit—right there, baby… don’t stop… you’re gonna make me cum,” she pants, one hand threading into my hair.
I keep the same rhythm, sucking her clit into my mouth and flicking my tongue fast and steady. Her hips start rocking against my face, chasing the pleasure.
“I’m so close—fuck—” she growls.
Suddenly both of her hands grab my head, fingers digging into my scalp. She pulls me harder against her pussy and starts fucking my face — grinding roughly, using my mouth however she wants.
“That’s it—eat my pussy, baby. You’re so fucking good for me,” she moans, voice breaking as she gets closer. “Such a perfect little wife… making me feel this good… fuck—!”
Her thighs clamp down even harder around my head as her whole body tenses.
She cums hard.
Christina lets out a deep, guttural moan, hips jerking against my face while she floods my mouth. I keep licking and sucking through every pulse, swallowing everything she gives me, my tongue still working her clit as she rides it out.
“You’re so fucking good, baby… shit—yes, just like that… take it all,” she groans, still grinding against my tongue while the orgasm rips through her. “My good girl… making your wife cum so hard in your pretty mouth…”
Her legs tremble violently around my head, abs flexing and twitching as wave after wave hits her. I don’t stop until she finally starts to come down, her grip on my hair loosening just a little, breath coming in heavy pants.
Only then do I slow my tongue, giving her soft, gentle licks to help her ride out the aftershocks
I keep licking her gently, soft slow strokes of my tongue through her folds, helping her ride out the last little tremors. Christina’s breathing is still heavy, her strong thighs slowly relaxing around my head.
Without warning, I slide two fingers inside her — nice and deep, but gentle, curling them slightly as I push in.
Christina’s eyes fly open and she bites down hard on her lower lip, a surprised little gasp escaping her. Her hand grips the edge of the couch tighter, knuckles turning white, but she doesn’t push me away. She just lets me in, pussy clenching around my fingers instantly.
“Give me more, please?…” I whisper softly against her clit, voice sweet and needy. “Let me take care of you now, baby.”
I start moving my fingers slowly, pumping in and out with a gentle rhythm while my tongue keeps giving her light, soothing licks around her clit. Christina’s abs tighten, her chest rising and falling fast as she stares down at me with dark, hazy eyes.
“That’s it… just relax for me,” I murmur, pressing a soft kiss to her inner thigh before going back to her pussy. “You feel so fucking good, Christina. So tight around my fingers… god, I love how you’re squeezing me right now.”
I curl my fingers upward, stroking that soft, spongy spot inside her with every slow thrust. My pace stays steady and gentle, but deep enough to make her hips twitch.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” I whisper, looking up at her while I finger-fuck her. “My strong, gorgeous wife… letting me play with this pretty pussy. You’re dripping all over my hand, baby. So wet and warm… I could do this for hours.”
Christina lets out a shaky breath, biting her lip harder as her hips start rolling subtly against my fingers. I keep talking her through it, voice soft and loving.
“You’re doing so good… just let me make you feel good. This tight little pussy is gripping me so perfectly. I love feeling every flutter when I hit that spot… right here.”
I press my fingers firmer against her g-spot, rubbing in slow circles while my tongue flicks gently over her clit.
Her breathing gets shallower, more desperate.
Her thighs start trembling again around me.
Then, in the softest, breathiest whimper, she manages to say “I’m… gonna cum…”
It’s quiet this time — no loud moans, no screaming. She’s too breathless, too overwhelmed. Her whole body tenses, pussy clamping down hard around my two fingers as the orgasm washes over her.
She cums gently but intensely, a fresh wave of wetness coating my fingers and dripping down my hand. Her hips roll slowly against me, riding my fingers through every pulse while soft, broken little whimpers slip from her lips.
I don’t pull my fingers out. I keep them buried deep inside her, curling gently to help her ride it out as long as possible. At the same time, I crawl up her body and kiss her — swallowing every quiet moan and whimper straight from her mouth, tasting her pleasure while she trembles beneath me.
Christina kisses me back weakly, one hand coming up to cup the back of my head as the aftershocks roll through her. Her pussy keeps fluttering and squeezing around my fingers, still buried inside her.
I keep them there, letting her ride the last little waves until her body finally starts to relax, limp and glowing against the couch.
For a few seconds she just lies there, eyes half-lidded, looking at me with pure heat and affection.
Then she moves.
Without warning she surges up, grabbing my face with both hands and crashing her mouth into mine in a rough, hungry kiss. Her tongue pushes past my lips, claiming me hard as she tastes herself on me. I moan into the kiss, but she’s already moving — pulling me with her as she stands up from the couch and walks us backwards toward the fireplace.
The warm glow of the fire lights up her naked body as she pushes me down onto the soft rug. I land on my back with a little gasp, and she’s instantly on top of me again, kissing me deep and filthy, grinding her hips against mine.
But I’m not done playing tonight.
I brace my hands on her shoulders and flip us with a surge of strength, rolling until I’m straddling her waist. Christina lets out a surprised growl, but I don’t give her time to react. I slam my lips back down on hers, kissing her just as hard, tongues sliding messily while I rock my body against her.
I break the kiss only to attack her neck — sucking and biting harder than before, leaving fresh dark marks right over the ones I made earlier. Christina arches under me with a low moan. I trail lower, mouth latching onto one of her perky tits. I suck her nipple deep into my mouth, tongue flicking fast and hard, then switch to the other one, giving it the same wet, greedy attention until both are swollen and shiny.
I release her nipple with a loud, wet pop and lean down to kiss her again — but Christina moves like lightning.
She flips us back over in one powerful motion, pinning me beneath her on the rug. Her muscular arms cage me in as she stares down at me with dark, predatory eyes and a wicked little smirk.
“You’re not gonna win, baby,” she growls against my lips, voice low and rough. “Not tonight.”
Before I can answer, she shifts her body, swinging one strong leg over mine and pulling me into position. She presses her soaked pussy right against mine, clit to clit, and starts grinding slow and deliberate.
The first slide of her wet heat against me makes me whimper loudly. Christina holds my thigh up with one hand, the other braced beside my head as she starts scissoring me properly — rolling her hips in deep, steady circles, rubbing our clits together with every movement.
“Fuck… feel that?” she breathes, eyes locked on mine. “This is mine. This pretty pussy is all mine tonight.”
The friction is perfect — wet, hot, and intense. Every roll of her hips sends sparks shooting through me as our slick folds slide and grind against each other. The fire crackles beside us, casting flickering light over our bodies while Christina picks up the pace, fucking me with deep, possessive grinds.
Christina shifts fully into position, pressing her soaked, swollen pussy right against mine. The moment our clits touch, a sharp moan escapes both of us. She starts grinding slow and deep, rolling her hips in perfect, filthy circles so every slick slide sends sparks through my whole body.
“Fuck, baby…” she breathes, voice husky as she stares down at me. “Your pussy feels so fucking good against mine. So wet… so warm… sliding all over me like this. You’re dripping everywhere.”
She grips my thigh tighter, pulling it higher against her hip so she can grind harder. Her pace picks up, hips snapping with more force, our clits rubbing relentlessly with every thrust.
“That’s it… grind back on me, baby. Move those hips just like that—yes, fuck—keep rubbing that pretty clit on mine.”
I obey instantly, rolling my hips up to meet her, the wet sounds of our pussies grinding together filling the room along with the crackle of the fireplace. Christina’s breathing gets heavier, her muscular body flexing above me as she fucks me harder with every roll.
“God, I love this,” she groans, eyes half-lidded with pleasure. “Love feeling how slippery and needy you get for me. Your pussy is fluttering already… you’re getting so close, aren’t you?"
We keep grinding—faster, messier, more desperate. The friction is perfect, our clits sliding and pressing with every thrust. Sweat glistens on her skin, her abs tightening every time she snaps her hips forward.
I can feel it building fast, that tight coil in my belly getting ready to snap.
“Baby… I’m close—” I whimper, legs already starting to tremble.
Christina’s eyes flash and she shakes her head, still grinding hard and deep.
“Not yet… not yet… not yet—” she gasps breathlessly, her own voice breaking as she feels her orgasm rushing in too. Her hips stutter for a second before she doubles down, grinding even harder, faster, chasing it with me.
We crash over the edge at the exact same time.
“Fuck—!” I cry out as my orgasm slams into me, pussy pulsing hard against hers.
Christina lets out a deep, shaky moan right as she cums too, her whole body tensing. Our legs shake violently against each other, clits throbbing and rubbing through every powerful wave. Wetness gushes between us, making everything even slicker as we keep grinding through the peak, riding it out together until we’re both twitching and oversensitive.
Finally, Christina collapses on top of me, her sweaty body pressing me into the rug. We’re both panting hard, chests heaving, hearts racing against each other. For a long moment we just lie there, trying to catch our breath, soft little whimpers still slipping out.
Eventually she flops down beside me on the floor, lying on her back right next to me. She turns her head, looking at me with soft, loving eyes even though she’s still breathless.
“Happy anniversary, baby,” she whispers, voice rough and warm. “I love you so fucking much.”
Smut Warning ! Finger fucking, Finger riding, Edging, Oral, Strap on, Strap on sucking, Scissoring. Squirting, Face fucking, Sex on the floor.
The house is quiet when we get back.
Too quiet, especially after the noise of the restaurant—the clinking glasses, the low music, the way Christina kept looking at me like she was waiting for my reaction to everything.
Now it’s just us.
She stops right at the front door, like she’s in no rush to go in, keys still in her hand.
I turn to her, still smiling a little, still not over it. “Thank you for tonight, baby.”
She looks at me like it was obvious.
“You deserve it.” she says, quiet, certain.
I gave her a smile before leaning in—pressing a quick kiss to her lips—soft, warm, lingering just a second longer than planned.
When I pull back, she’s still looking at me like that.
Then she tilts her head slightly toward the door. “I’m not done, by the way.”
I blink. “What?”
“There’s something else,” she says, a small hint of a smile slipping through. “In the living room.”
Now I’m curious.
She finally unlocks the door, and we step inside together.
The lights are low.
And right there on the table—
A box.
Medium-sized, wrapped, surrounded by scattered flower petals like she went all out when I wasn’t looking.
I let out a quiet laugh, already turning back to her.
“You’re insane,” I say, stepping closer again, hands finding her shirt this time.
“How long have you been planning this?”
She doesn’t answer right away.
She picks up the box and places it gently in my hands, her fingers brushing mine just a second too long.
“Open it.”
I hesitate for half a second — not because I don’t want to, but because of the way she’s looking at me. Like she’s already imagining exactly how this is going to end. My pulse kicks up.
Still, I lift the lid.
“Oh…”
Lace. Delicate black lace, soft and expensive-looking, folded perfectly inside. It’s not something you grab last-minute. This is deliberate. Christina picked this out thinking about how it would look on my skin, how it would cling, how little it would leave to the imagination.
My fingers trail over the fabric slowly, feeling the intricate patterns. Heat blooms low in my stomach.
I glance up. Christina hasn’t looked away once. Her eyes are dark, patient, hungry.
“Too much?” she asks, but her voice is low and steady. She already knows the answer.
I shake my head fast. “No. God, no. It’s just… you really picked this out for me?”
A small, casual shrug. “Thought it’d look perfect on you.”
The air between us shifts — thicker, heavier. I close the box slowly, suddenly hyper-aware of her closeness, the faint scent of her perfume from dinner still clinging to her skin, the way her gaze hasn’t left my face.
“You’re insane,” I whisper.
She steps closer, not rushing, just closing the distance until I can feel the warmth radiating off her body.
“Do you not like it?” Her voice drops even lower.
“That’s not the problem.” I swallow, looking up at her. “You don’t just hand someone something like this and expect them to act normal.”
Her lips curve into a small, knowing smile. “I wasn’t expecting normal, baby.”
Of course she wasn’t.
I glance back down at the box, then back at her, my cheeks burning. “It’s really pretty though…”
“Yeah?” She’s right there now, barely an inch of space left. “I want to see you try it on, beautiful.”
My breath catches. “Now?”
Christina doesn’t even blink. “Right now.”
I let out a shaky little laugh and nod, already turning toward the hallway with the box in my hands. “Okay… give me a second—”
“Do it here.”
I freeze mid-step. Slowly, I turn back around to face her. My heart is hammering.
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not.” Her eyes lock onto mine, calm but intense. “Put it on for me. Slowly.”
The command lands low in my belly. I know that look — she wants the show.
Heat rushes through me. My fingers tighten around the box.
I set it down on the table, then reach for the zipper of my dress without breaking eye contact. The sound of the zipper coming down feels loud in the quiet room. I let the fabric slide off my shoulders inch by inch, the cool air hitting my skin as the dress pools at my feet.
Christina’s eyes darken. She doesn’t move, doesn’t speak — just watches.
I step out of the dress, now standing in just my bra and panties. My hands are steady even though my pulse isn’t. I pick up the lingerie, letting the lace unfold in my fingers. Then, deliberately slow, I hook my thumbs into my panties and slide them down my legs, bending at the waist so she gets the full view while never looking away from her face.
Her breathing has changed. Good.
I straighten up, completely bare now, and start slipping into the new set. First the panties — I pull them up slowly, letting the delicate lace settle against my hips, adjusting them with careful fingers so she can see exactly how they fit. Then the top. I take my time fastening every little clasp, running my hands over the fabric, smoothing it over my breasts, letting my nipples harden visibly against the sheer material.
The whole time, my eyes stay on hers. I know what this does to her. I can see it in the way her jaw tightens, the way she shifts her weight like she’s holding herself back.
When I’m finally dressed in nothing but the lace she chose for me, I tilt my head slightly and ask, voice soft but teasing:
“Like this?” I ask, voice softer than I mean it to be, standing there in nothing but the delicate black lace she picked out for me.
Christina’s eyes drag over every inch of me like she’s memorizing it. For a second she doesn’t answer — just looks. Then she reaches out, her fingers curling gently but firmly around my wrist.
“Come here, baby.”
She pulls me toward the couch, not rough, but with that quiet confidence that makes my knees feel weak. I follow, heart pounding, and let her guide me until she sits down first. Before I can even think, she tugs me forward again — right onto her lap.
I straddle her thighs, the lace panties already feeling warmer against her clothed legs. Her hands settle on my hips instantly, thumbs brushing slow circles over the thin fabric.
“Fuck…” she breathes out, voice low and rough. “You look so fucking sexy in this.”
Her palms slide up my sides, slow and deliberate, feeling the curve of my waist, the way the lace hugs my ribs. One hand keeps roaming higher while the other stays at my hip, gripping just tight enough to hold me in place.
“Look at you…” Her fingers trace the underside of my breasts through the sheer top, thumbs brushing over my nipples until they tighten even more under her touch. “This lace was made for these tits. So pretty… so fucking perfect on you.”
I let out a shaky breath, my hands resting on her shoulders as her touch gets bolder. She cups my breasts fully now, squeezing gently, then firmer, rolling my nipples between her fingers until a soft whimper slips from my lips. Her other hand drifts down to my ass, palming it, pulling me closer so I’m pressed right against her.
“Christina…” I whisper, already feeling heat pooling between my legs.
She leans in, lips brushing my collarbone first — soft, warm. Then she starts trailing kisses up my neck, slow and wet, sucking lightly at the sensitive spot just below my ear. I tilt my head to give her more, a quiet moan escaping as her tongue flicks against my skin.
“You smell so good,” she murmurs against my neck, voice vibrating through me. “Taste even better. My pretty wife… all dressed up just for me.”
Her mouth keeps moving — open-mouthed kisses, little nips, then soothing with her tongue — while her hands never stop exploring. One slides back to my waist, gripping hard; the other teases my breast again, pinching just enough to make me gasp.
I can’t take it anymore. I turn my head, searching for her mouth.
Christina meets me halfway.
The kiss starts deep — no hesitation. Her lips are soft but hungry, tongue sliding against mine the second we connect. I moan into her mouth as she pulls me tighter against her, one hand tangling in my hair while the other grips my ass, rocking me slowly on her lap. The kiss turns messy fast — tongues tangling, breaths mixing, little wet sounds filling the room as we devour each other.
She tastes like the wine from dinner and something darker, sweeter. I kiss her harder, grinding down against her just a little, loving the way she groans low in her throat and tightens her hold on me.
When we finally break for air, both of us breathing hard, her forehead rests against mine. Her lips are swollen, eyes dark with want.
“God, I love you like this,” she whispers, thumb stroking my bottom lip. “My sexy fucking wife…”
Her forehead rests against mine, both of us breathing hard, lips still brushing.
My hips twitch on her lap, already searching for more friction.
Christina’s hand slides down between us without warning. Her fingers press firmly over the lace covering my pussy, rubbing slow, deliberate circles right against my clit through the thin fabric.
A sharp gasp leaves me. The lace is already damp, and the way she’s touching me makes it cling even more.
“Fuck, baby… you’re soaked,” she murmurs, voice low and smug. Her fingers keep moving in steady, teasing strokes, pressing the wet lace against my swollen clit. “All that just from trying on a little lingerie for me?”
I whimper, hips rolling into her hand before I can stop myself. The friction feels good — too good — but it’s not enough. Every slow rub makes the ache between my legs worse.
“Christina…” I moan softly, trying to grind harder against her fingers.
She chuckles darkly, not speeding up at all. Instead she presses a little firmer, letting the soaked lace drag over my clit again and again while her other hand squeezes my ass, holding me exactly where she wants me.
“Look at you… humping my hand like you can’t help it.” Her lips brush my ear. “Such a needy little wife tonight.”
The pressure keeps building, slow and relentless. My thighs start to tremble. I can feel how wet I am, the lace completely drenched now, every circle of her fingers making obscene little wet sounds.
“Please…” The word slips out before I can hold it back.
Christina’s fingers pause for just a second. She pulls back enough to look me in the eyes, that wicked little smirk on her lips.
“Please what, baby?”
I bite my lip, breathing ragged. “I need… I need you inside me.”
She tilts her head, still rubbing agonizingly slow circles over my clit. “Inside you? With what?”
Her fingers press harder for emphasis, making me gasp and buck against her hand.
“Fingers,” I whine, voice breaking. “Please, Christina… slip your fingers inside me.”
She laughs softly, low and mocking. “Aww, listen to you. Already begging so sweetly.” Her fingers keep teasing, never giving me what I actually want, just dragging the soaked lace back and forth until I’m shaking. “But you can do better than that, can’t you? My pretty wife doesn’t just ask… she begs.”
I’m panting now, hips desperately chasing her touch. The ache is unbearable.
“Christina, please—” My voice cracks. “I’m so wet for you… I need your fingers in my pussy. Please, baby, stop teasing me. I’ll do anything—just fuck me with your fingers.”
Her eyes darken, but she still doesn’t give in right away. She leans in, lips ghosting over my neck while her fingers keep that torturous rhythm.
“Beg harder,” she whispers against my skin, voice dripping with control. “Tell me exactly how bad you need it. Tell me what a desperate little slut you are for your wife’s fingers.”
Heat floods my face. My whole body is trembling on her lap. I’m past the point of pride.
“Please, Christina… I’m your desperate little slut,” I moan, grinding shamelessly against her hand. “I need your fingers stretching me open so fucking bad. I’m dripping for you—look how wet the lace is. Please… please push them inside me. I’ll be so good for you, just fuck me already—”
Before I can finish the sentence, Christina finally hooks the lace aside with two fingers.
She doesn’t ease in.
Two thick fingers slide deep inside me in one smooth thrust, curling instantly against that spot that makes my back arch hard.
A loud, broken moan rips out of me as she starts pumping slowly, deep and deliberate, her thumb finding my clit again.
“That’s it,” she growls against my ear, voice rough with satisfaction. “Good girl. Take my fingers just like that.”
She doesn’t go slow anymore.
Her fingers thrust deep and hard, curling perfectly against that spongy spot inside me with every stroke. The wet, filthy sounds of her pumping in and out of my soaked pussy fill the room, loud and obscene. My hips jerk helplessly on her lap, riding her hand as best I can while the lace panties are shoved to the side.
“Fuck, listen to how wet you are,” she murmurs, lips brushing my neck. “You’re dripping down my fingers, baby. Such a messy little cunt for me.”
I moan loud, head falling back as she speeds up, fucking me with steady, punishing strokes. Her thumb keeps perfect pressure on my clit, rubbing tight circles that make my thighs shake around her.
“You’re clenching so tight around me,” Christina talks me through it, voice low and steady even as her fingers wreck me. “That’s it… squeeze my fingers like you’re trying to keep them inside. Feel how deep I am? Right there—yeah, that spot. You’re gonna fall apart for me tonight, aren’t you?”
Every thrust pushes me higher. Pleasure coils tight in my belly, hot and overwhelming. I’m grinding down on her hand, chasing it, whimpering every time her fingers drag against my walls and her thumb flicks my swollen clit.
“Christina—fuck—feels so good…” I gasp, nails digging into her shoulders.
She chuckles darkly, never slowing down. “I know it does, baby. Look at you… my pretty wife falling apart on my fingers. You love when I fuck this greedy pussy, don’t you? So wet and sloppy just from a little teasing.”
Her free hand grips my ass hard, helping me ride her fingers faster. The stretch, the pressure, the constant filthy praise — it’s too much and not enough all at once.
“Please…” I whine, voice breaking as the edge starts creeping closer. “Christina, I’m so close—”
She slows just enough to make me whimper in protest, but her fingers stay buried deep, curling lazily.
“Beg for it,” she says, eyes locked on mine, that smug smirk back on her lips. “Beg for me to let you cum on my fingers like a good girl.”
I don’t even hesitate. The words spill out desperate and broken.
“Please, baby—please let me cum. I’ve been so good for you tonight. I need it so bad… please let me cum on your fingers. I’ll do anything, just don’t stop—please, Christina, make me cum—”
She groans softly, clearly loving how wrecked I sound. Her fingers pick up again, faster and harder, slamming into that perfect spot while her thumb works my clit relentlessly.
“That’s my girl,” she praises, voice thick. “Keep begging. Louder. Tell me how bad you need to cum all over your wife’s hand.”
I’m shaking, right on the edge, hips bucking wildly.
“Please! Fuck—Christina, I’m gonna cum—please let me cum, I’m so fucking close, I can’t hold it—pleasepleaseplease—”
Just as the orgasm starts crashing over me, right when my walls start fluttering hard around her fingers—
Christina yanks her fingers out completely.
The sudden emptiness hits like a slap. My pussy clenches around nothing, the peak ripped away at the last second. A loud, frustrated cry tears from my throat as my hips keep twitching uselessly, orgasm denied right at the brink.
“No—no, fuck—Christina!” I whine, voice high and desperate, thighs trembling violently around her lap. I’m panting, soaked, aching worse than before.
She brings her glistening fingers up between us, eyes dark and amused as she watches me fall apart without release. A wicked little smile curves her lips.
“Aww, baby… were you about to cum?” she teases, voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Not yet. Not until I say so.”
I let out a broken sob, my whole body shaking with frustration. My pussy is throbbing, empty and dripping, clenching uselessly around nothing. The orgasm that was so close is already fading, leaving me aching and desperate in the worst way. I try to grind down against her thigh for any kind of relief, but she grips my hips hard with both hands, holding me still.
“Christina… please,” I whimper, voice cracking. “I was right there—why did you stop? I need it so bad, baby, please—”
She chuckles low, that deep, satisfied sound that makes my stomach flip. Her fingers, still shiny with my wetness, trace lazy patterns up my inner thigh, so close to where I need them but never quite touching. The lace of the lingerie is ruined, soaked and shoved messily to the side, sticking to my skin.
“Look at you,” she murmurs, eyes roaming over me like she owns every inch. “My pretty little wife, all dressed up in the gift I got her, sitting on my lap with her pussy dripping down my thighs. And you’re still begging so sweetly.” She leans in, brushing her lips against mine in a teasing almost-kiss. “You think I’m gonna let you cum that easy on our anniversary? Nah, baby. We’re just getting started.”
I whine again, trying to chase her fingers, but she pulls them away every time I get close. Tears of pure frustration prick at my eyes.
“Christina, I can’t— I need you inside me again. Please put iy in me. I’ll be good, I promise. Just let me cum this time. I’ll do anything—”
She cuts me off by sliding two fingers back inside me without warning—slow and deep this time, stretching me open again. I moan loud, head falling forward onto her shoulder as relief floods through me. But she keeps the pace torturously slow, barely thrusting, just holding her fingers there while her thumb rests lightly against my swollen clit.
“That’s it… feel that?” she whispers against my ear, voice rough. “Feel how easily you take me? Your greedy cunt is sucking my fingers right back in. So fucking wet for me.” She curls them just enough to press against that spot again, making my hips jerk. “But you don’t get to cum until I decide you’ve earned it. Understand?”
I nod frantically, biting my lip hard. “Yes—yes, I understand. Please… just don’t stop this time.”
Christina laughs softly, nipping at my neck. “Good girl. Now ride my fingers nice and slow. Show me how bad you want it. And keep talking, baby. Tell me exactly what this sloppy little pussy needs.”
I don’t even hesitate. I plant my knees on either side of her thighs and start rolling my hips, sliding up and down on her two fingers. The stretch feels so good, but it’s not enough — not nearly enough. The lace panties dig into my skin as they stay shoved to the side, wet and sticky.
“Fuck… I need you deeper, baby,” I breathe out, voice shaky as I sink down again. “I need you to fill me up and let me cum all over your hand. Please, Christina… my pussy’s aching for you.”
She hums in approval, her free hand gripping my ass to guide my movements. “That’s it. Nice and slow, just like that. Feel every inch.”
I obey, keeping the pace deliberately slow, dragging my clit against her palm with each roll of my hips. My moans come out soft and needy, eyes half-lidded as I watch her face. She looks so smug, so in control, and it only makes me wetter.
After a minute she squeezes my ass harder. “Faster now, baby. Ride me like you mean it.”
I immediately pick up speed, bouncing on her fingers with short, desperate thrusts. The wet sounds get louder — filthy squelching every time I slam down. My tits bounce in the delicate lace bra, nipples hard and visible through the thin fabric.
“Shit—Christina… feels so good,” I gasp, head tipping back. “Your fingers are so deep like this… hitting that spot every time I come down.”
She smirks, eyes dark. “Good girl. Keep going. Now slow down again… reeeal slow. Grind on them.”
I whimper but obey instantly, slowing my hips to a torturous grind, circling and pressing down so her fingers rub perfectly against my walls. The pressure builds fast this way — slow, deep, relentless.
Christina leans in, kissing along my collarbone while her thumb starts rubbing lazy circles over my clit again. “Tell me when you’re getting close, baby. Don’t you dare cum without saying it first.”
“Yes—yes, okay,” I pant, already feeling that familiar coil tightening low in my belly. I keep grinding slow and steady like she told me, thighs burning, pussy clenching rhythmically around her fingers.
It doesn’t take long. The slow grind combined with her thumb on my clit has me trembling within minutes.
“Christina… fuck, I’m close,” I whine, voice breaking. “I’m so close already—please don’t stop—”
The second the words leave my mouth, she yanks her fingers out again.
The sudden emptiness makes me cry out in pure frustration, my hips still twitching forward, chasing the lost sensation. My walls flutter around nothing, the orgasm ripped away for the second time tonight. I’m shaking, tears of desperation stinging my eyes as I grip her shoulders tight.
“Nooo—Christina, please! I told you—I was right there!” I sob, voice high and wrecked. “Why do you keep doing this to me? I need to cum so bad, baby… please, I’m begging you…”
Christina brings her soaked fingers to her lips, slowly licking them clean while she watches me fall apart on her lap. Her eyes are gleaming with dark amusement.
“Aww, poor thing,” she coos, voice sweet but cruel. “You were so close again, weren’t you? Listening so well, riding my fingers just like I told you… but you still don’t get to cum yet.” She leans in, kissing the corner of my mouth teasingly. “Look how messy you are. My pretty wife’s pussy is dripping all over my lap and you’re still not allowed to finish.”
I whimper pathetically, hips grinding uselessly against her thigh now, trying to find any friction. “Christina… I can’t take it anymore. Please… I’ll do anything. Just let me cum this time. Please—”
Christina’s eyes darken with hunger. Before I can beg again, she grabs my hips with both hands and flips me smoothly onto my back on the wide couch. I land with a soft bounce, breath catching as she towers over me for a second, looking down like I’m her favorite meal.
“Fuck, baby,” she growls, voice low and rough. She kneels on the floor right in front of the couch, spreading my legs wide and pulling me to the edge so my ass is barely on the cushion. “Look at you… my gorgeous wife all spread out for me in that pretty lace I picked out. You look so fucking sexy like this — tits spilling out of that bra, panties soaked and ruined, legs shaking… You’re beautiful, you know that? So damn beautiful it drives me crazy.”
Her hands start roaming while she talks — slow, possessive strokes up my thighs, over my hips, across my stomach, then up to cup my breasts through the delicate lace. She squeezes gently, thumbs brushing my hard nipples until I arch into her touch with a whine.
“Christina…” I moan, already losing it again. Every touch feels electric after all that edging. My skin is hypersensitive, and she knows it.
She smirks, leaning down to kiss just below my navel. “Aww, listen to you. Still so needy even after I flipped you like a little doll. You’re dripping everywhere, baby. Making such a mess on our couch… and you haven’t even cum yet.” Her hands slide back down, fingertips teasing the waistband of the lace panties. “Poor thing. All worked up and desperate because your wife won’t let you finish. How does that feel, hm?”
I whimper loudly, hips twitching up toward her face. “It feels like torture… please, Christina, I need your mouth, I need your fingers, I need you so bad—”
She chuckles darkly, mocking. “Yeah? You need my mouth that bad?” She hooks her fingers in the soaked lace and slowly pushes the panties to the side, fully exposing my swollen, glistening pussy. “Look at this pretty pussy… all puffy and wet just for me.”
Christina leans in closer, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along my inner thighs — first one side, then the other. She’s so close I can feel her hot breath ghosting over my clit, but she never touches where I need her most. Every kiss gets higher, slower, wetter, until I’m trembling and trying to grind against nothing.
“Christina—fuck—stop teasing,” I gasp, hands flying down to grip her hair. “Please… I can’t—”
She laughs against my skin, the vibration making me jolt. “Can’t what, baby? Can’t take a little more teasing from the woman who loves you?” Another kiss, this one right at the crease of my thigh, so close. “You look so fucking pretty when you’re desperate like this. All flushed and shaking… my perfect wife.”
Then, finally, she leans in and drags her tongue flat and slow from my entrance all the way up to my clit.
The moan that rips out of me is loud and broken. My back arches hard off the couch as she starts eating me out — slow, deliberate licks at first, savoring every drop like she has all night. Her hands hold my thighs open wide while her tongue circles my clit, then dips down to fuck into me shallowly before sliding back up.
“Fuck—yes—Christina…” I cry out, hips rolling against her face. The relief is overwhelming after all the denial, but she’s still going slow, still in control, still making me feel every single stroke.
She pulls back just enough to murmur against my pussy, voice thick and teasing. “Taste so good, baby. So sweet and messy. Keep making those pretty sounds for me while I eat this pretty pussy.”
Then she dives back in like she’s starving.
Christina’s tongue works me with perfect, relentless focus — long, slow licks that drag from my entrance up to my swollen clit, then tight, fast circles that make my eyes roll back. Every time I think I’m getting used to the rhythm, she switches it up: sucking my clit gently between her lips, flicking it with the tip of her tongue, then pushing her tongue inside me as deep as she can go.
I turn into a complete whimpering mess within minutes.
“Christina—oh my god—fuck…” The words spill out broken and high-pitched. My hands fist tighter in her hair, hips grinding desperately against her face. Every moan gets louder, needier. I can’t even form full sentences anymore — just desperate little sounds and half-begged pleas.
My thighs start to tremble, then shake harder as the pleasure builds fast and brutal after all that edging. Without thinking, my legs snap shut around her head, squeezing as the overwhelming sensation hits me.
Christina immediately pulls back, lips shiny and glistening with my wetness. Her eyes flash with warning as she grips my thighs and forcefully spreads them wide again, pinning them open against the couch.
“Keep your legs open,” she scolds, voice low and stern, lips brushing my inner thigh. “Don’t you dare close them around my head again, baby. You do that one more time and I’ll stop completely. Understand?”
I nod frantically, tears of frustration and pleasure pricking at my eyes. “Y-yes—sorry—please don’t stop… I’ll keep them open, I promise—”
“Good girl,” she growls, and immediately buries her face back between my legs.
This time she eats me out even more intensely — sucking my clit harder, tongue flicking faster, two fingers sliding deep inside me without warning and curling right against that perfect spot. The wet, obscene sounds of her mouth and fingers working my soaked pussy fill the entire room.
I’m lost. Whimpering, moaning, babbling her name like a prayer.
“Christina—fuck—feels too good—please—ahh—”
My legs start shaking violently. They tremble and twitch uncontrollably no matter how hard I try to keep them spread. My toes curl tight, thighs quivering as the pleasure coils tighter and tighter in my belly. I’m right there again — so fucking close — hips bucking wildly against her face while she devours me.
Christina doesn’t let up for even a second. She moans into my pussy like she loves how wrecked I sound, the vibration shooting straight through me. Her fingers pump faster, curling harder, while her tongue lashes my clit without mercy.
My whole body is shaking now — legs vibrating so hard it feels like I might fall apart. I’m gasping, crying out, a complete whimpering, dripping mess on the couch.
“Christina—baby—I’m—fuck—I’m so close again—please—”
This time Christina doesn’t pull away.
Instead, she growls right against my clit, the vibration shooting through me like electricity. “Cum for me, baby. Let go. I want to feel this pretty pussy cum all over my tongue.”
She sucks my clit into her mouth hard, tongue flicking fast and relentless while her fingers curl deep inside me, stroking that perfect spot over and over without mercy. The pressure that’s been building for so long finally snaps.
The orgasm crashes into me like a wave.
“Christina—fuck—yes—!”
My back arches violently off the couch as I cum hard, legs shaking uncontrollably around her head. I can’t even try to keep them open anymore — they clamp tight as the pleasure rips through me in powerful, pulsing waves. My pussy clenches and flutters wildly around her fingers, gushing wet and messy against her tongue while she keeps licking and sucking through every second of it.
I’m loud. Really loud. Moaning and crying out her name like it’s the only word I know, body convulsing as the orgasm drags on and on. Christina doesn’t stop — she moans into my pussy like she’s loving every drop, tongue working me through the peak and then gentling just enough to draw it out longer, milking every last tremor.
My thighs tremble violently, toes curled so tight they hurt, as the waves finally start to slow. I’m panting, whimpering, completely wrecked — chest heaving, skin flushed and sweaty, the lace lingerie sticking to my body.
Christina keeps licking softly through the aftershocks, gentle and slow now, until I’m twitching and oversensitive. Only then does she pull back, lips and chin shiny and wet with my cum. She looks up at me with dark, satisfied eyes and a proud little smirk.
“That’s my good girl,” she murmurs, voice rough and thick. She presses a soft kiss to my inner thigh, then another higher up, before crawling up my body to hover over me. “Fuck, baby… you came so hard for me. Look at you — all shaky and pretty after one orgasm. And we’re nowhere near done tonight.”
She leans down and kisses me deep, letting me taste myself on her tongue. Her hand slides between my legs again, cupping my still-throbbing pussy possessively.
Christina suddenly pulls away completely. A desperate little sound escapes me at the loss.
She chuckles, low and warm, then leans down to kiss me softly on the lips.
“Stay right here, baby,” she murmurs against my mouth, voice husky. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back. Gonna grab something real quick."
Before I can even ask what she’s up to, she’s already pushing off the couch, leaving me sprawled there — legs still spread, chest heaving, the lace lingerie damp and clinging to my skin. I watch her disappear down the hallway, my body still buzzing and sensitive.
A minute later I hear her footsteps coming back.
When she steps into the living room again, my breath catches hard.
Christina is completely naked.
The soft light from the lamp catches on every line of her body — those strong, muscular arms flexed slightly as she adjusts the black harness around her hips, the thick, realistic strap-on now jutting out proudly. Her abs are on full display, tight and defined, a faint sheen of sweat making them glisten. Her breasts sit high and full, nipples hard, and the way her thighs flex with each step has me clenching around nothing.
Fuck….
She stops a few feet away, letting me stare. One hand casually strokes the length of the strap while the other rests on her hip. That confident, slightly cocky smirk is back on her face.
“Like what you see, baby?” she asks, voice low and teasing. She takes another slow step closer, eyes raking over me in the ruined lingerie.
“You’ve been such a good girl tonight… thought my wife deserved to get properly fucked on our anniversary.”
She climbs back onto the couch, kneeling between my spread legs. The strap brushes against my inner thigh, heavy and warm from her body heat. Christina leans down, bracing one muscular arm beside my head while the other hand cups my jaw, thumb brushing my bottom lip.
“Still so wet for me,” she whispers, glancing down between us. Her fingers dip between my folds again, spreading my slickness. “You want this, don’t you? Want me to fill you up nice and deep?”
I nod quickly, breath shaky. “Yes… please, baby…”
She grins, dark eyes flashing with hunger.
Leaning in, she kisses me slow and filthy, tongue sliding against mine as the thick head of the strap pressed right against my entrance, teasing, not pushing in yet.
“Tell me how bad you want it,” she murmurs against my lips, voice rough with want. “Tell your wife exactly what you need tonight.”
I’m trembling under her, the thick head of the strap still teasing my entrance, her muscular body hovering over me like she’s barely holding herself back.
“Fuck me with it,” I breathe out, voice shaky and desperate. “Please, Christina… I want your strap. I need you to fuck me deep—please, baby.”
Christina’s eyes darken instantly. She lets out a low, satisfied hum and pulls back just enough to look down at me.
“Good girl,” she praises, brushing her thumb over my cheek. Then her voice drops, commanding.
“But first… open that pretty mouth for me.”
She shifts up on her knees, the thick strap now right in front of my face, heavy and waiting. I don’t even hesitate. I part my lips and lean forward, taking the head into my mouth. Christina groans softly, one hand sliding into my hair as I start sucking — slow at first, then wetter, messier, letting my spit coat every inch while I look up at her.
"That’s it… get it all sloppy for me, baby,” she murmurs, watching my lips stretch around the strap. “Make it nice and wet so it slides right into that greedy little pussy.”
I moan around it, sucking harder, tongue swirling, drooling until the whole length is glistening and dripping with my spit. Christina’s abs flex as she rocks her hips gently, fucking my mouth shallowly a few times before she finally pulls it out with a wet pop.
She moves back down between my legs, spreading them wider with those strong hands. The thick, now dripping-wet head presses against my entrance again.
“Ready for big mama?” she asks, voice husky.
I nod frantically. “Yes—please—”
Christina doesn’t tease anymore.She thrusts in hard in one smooth, deep stroke, burying the strap to the hilt. A loud, broken moan rips out of me as I feel myself stretch around her.
“Fuuuuck—Christina!”
She doesn’t give me time to adjust. She pulls back and slams in again, harder, setting a brutal rhythm right away. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the room as she fucks me deep and fast, her muscular arms braced on either side of my head, abs tightening with every powerful thrust.
“Oh my god—yes—fuck me!” I cry out, legs wrapping around her waist as she pounds into me.
Christina laughs breathlessly, mocking and affectionate all at once.
“Look at you… already screaming like a pathetic little slut for my strap,” she taunts, hips snapping harder. “Taking it so deep, baby. You’re creaming all over it already—fuck, listen to how wet you sound.”
She angles her hips and hits that spot perfectly on every thrust, making me see stars. I’m loud — moaning, cursing, crying out her name every time she bottoms out. The couch creaks under us from how hard she’s fucking me.
“Pathetic and pretty,” she growls, leaning down to bite my neck. “My wife falling apart so fast just from getting railed. You gonna squirt for me tonight? Gonna make a mess all over our couch like a desperate whore?”
Her pace gets even rougher, one hand sliding down to rub tight circles on my clit while she keeps thrusting deep and merciless.
The pressure builds fast — too fast.
“Christina—baby—I’m—fuck—I’m gonna—!”
“That’s it,” she snarls, never slowing down.
“Cum on my strap. Squirt for me, baby. Show me how good I’m fucking this pussy.”
It hits me like a freight train.
My whole body locks up, then explodes. I scream her name as I squirt hard, clear fluid gushing out around the strap with every brutal thrust. My pussy clenches and spasms wildly, soaking her thighs, the harness, and the couch beneath us. I can’t stop shaking, can’t stop cumming — wave after wave crashing through me while Christina keeps fucking me through it, moaning praises and filthy taunts mixed together.
“Fuck yes—look at that mess… such a good fucking girl squirting all over me.”
She slows down only when my body starts to go limp, still buried deep inside me, grinding slow and deep as I twitch and whimper through the aftershocks.
I’m a complete mess — panting hard, chest heaving, skin slick with sweat, the lingerie completely ruined and sticking to me.
Christina leans down and kisses my forehead softly, almost tenderly, before she pulls the strap out of my still-fluttering pussy with a wet sound. I let out a shaky whine at the sudden emptiness.
Before I can catch my breath, her hand slides into my hair, gripping tight at the roots. She tugs my head up firmly.
“Open,” she commands, voice low and rough.
I barely have time to part my lips before she pushes the dripping strap past them, sliding it deep into my mouth. The taste of my own cum floods my tongue instantly — sweet and messy. Christina doesn’t go slow. She starts fucking my face with steady, deep thrusts, using her grip on my hair to control my head.
I gag hard when she hits the back of my throat, eyes watering instantly as spit spills from the corners of my mouth. She doesn’t ease up. She keeps thrusting, hips rolling so the strap slides in and out of my throat, making wet, obscene choking sounds every time she pushes deeper.
“Fuck, that’s it… take it all, baby,” she groans, watching me struggle around the thick length. “Clean every drop of your squirt off my strap like a good little wife.
”Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I gag and drool, but I suck eagerly, tongue working the underside while she fucks my mouth harder. My hands come up instinctively, gripping her strong thighs for balance as she uses my throat.
After a few more rough thrusts, Christina finally pulls the strap out completely. A thick string of saliva connects my swollen lips to the shiny head before it breaks. I’m gasping, coughing softly, face a total wreck — cheeks flushed, lips puffy and shiny, chin and neck covered in my own spit and mess. Strands of hair stick to my sweaty forehead.
Christina stares down at me, eyes dark with lust. She still has one hand fisted in my hair, tilting my head back so she can admire the view.
“Mmmm… look at you,” she murmurs, voice thick with pride and hunger. “So fucking pretty like this. All messy and used, face covered in your own spit after choking on my strap. Such a pretty slut for mama."
I’m still trying to catch my breath, chest rising and falling rapidly. My hands slide up her body greedily — palms gliding over her tight abs, tracing every ridge, then moving higher to cup her breasts, thumbs brushing over her hard nipples. I squeeze and caress, feeling the heat and strength under my fingers.
In a husky, wrecked voice, I manage to whisper.
“Can I taste you now, baby…? Please… I want to taste my wife.
Christina’s eyes darken even more at my husky plea. She still has her fingers tangled tight in my hair, tilting my head back so I’m forced to look up at her. A slow, teasing smirk spreads across her lips.
“Beg for it,” she says, voice low and commanding. “Tell me exactly how bad you want to taste this pussy. Use that pretty mouth and beg like you mean it."
I’m still panting, face messy with spit, body trembling from everything she’s already done to me. But the need to have her is burning hotter than anything else. “Please, Christina…” I whisper, voice wrecked and desperate.
“Please let me taste you. I’ve been thinking about it all night. I want to bury my face between your legs and make you feel as good as you made me. I’ll be so good for you, baby… please let your wife eat your pussy. I need it so fucking bad.”
Christina watches me for a long moment, clearly enjoying how broken and needy I sound. Then she finally loosens her grip on my hair and nods once.
“Alright, baby. You earned it. Come here.” She commanded as she step out of the harness.
She shifts back on the couch, spreading her strong thighs wide for me, giving me full access. The sight of her — muscular arms resting along the back of the couch, abs tight, pussy already glistening — makes my mouth water.
I crawl forward eagerly, still wearing the ruined lingerie. Starting at her neck, I press soft, open-mouthed kisses along her skin, tasting the salt of her sweat. I move lower, trailing my lips over her collarbone, then down to one of her biceps. I kiss the hard muscle, then drag my tongue slowly over it, licking and sucking until I leave a faint mark. I do the same to the other arm, worshipping every inch of strength I can reach.
Christina lets out a low hum of approval, one hand gently stroking my hair now instead of pulling it.
I keep going, kissing my way down her body until I reach those perfect abs. My tongue traces every deep line and ridge, slow and reverent, licking and kissing across the tight muscle while I look up at her. Christina’s breathing gets heavier, her abs flexing under my mouth as I worship them.
I don’t stop there. I trail wet kisses lower, down the V of her hips, then along the tops of her thighs and inner legs, never breaking eye contact with her. Every kiss is soft and teasing, my lips brushing closer and closer to where she wants me most, but not quite there yet.
When I’m finally right between her spread legs, face inches from her soaked pussy, I press a few more soft, lingering kisses on her inner thighs… then one right above her clit… another just beside it.
Christina’s hips twitch impatiently.
I look up at her through my lashes, voice husky and dripping with need.
“Can I…?”
Christina doesn’t say a word. She just gives me a slow, deliberate nod, eyes locked on mine, that hungry smirk still playing on her lips.
That’s all the permission I need.
I lean in and press my tongue flat against her pussy, licking a long, slow stripe from her entrance all the way up to her clit. She tastes so fucking good — warm, sweet, and slick. I moan softly against her as I start eating her out properly, slow and deliberate at first, swirling my tongue around her clit in lazy circles.
Christina lets out a low groan, her abs tightening under my hands. Her breathing starts to deepen, so I pick up the pace, flicking my tongue faster, sucking gently on her swollen clit. Every time her breath hitches or she lets out a little moan, I go harder, licking and sucking with more pressure exactly where she seems to need it.
Her strong thighs start closing around my head, squeezing tight as the pleasure builds. The muscles in her legs flex hard, trapping me between them, but I don’t stop. I keep eating her like I’m starving — tongue working faster, dipping inside her, then back to her clit, sucking harder.
“Fuck… just like that, baby,” Christina groans, voice rough. “Keep that tongue on my clit… yeah, don’t you dare slow down.”
I obey instantly, focusing everything on her clit while my hands slide up to grip her hips, holding her open for me. Her legs squeeze even tighter around my head, muffling the sounds around me, but I don’t care. I keep going, licking and sucking relentlessly, moaning into her pussy so she can feel the vibrations.
Her breathing gets faster, more ragged.
“Shit—right there, baby… don’t stop… you’re gonna make me cum,” she pants, one hand threading into my hair.
I keep the same rhythm, sucking her clit into my mouth and flicking my tongue fast and steady. Her hips start rocking against my face, chasing the pleasure.
“I’m so close—fuck—” she growls.
Suddenly both of her hands grab my head, fingers digging into my scalp. She pulls me harder against her pussy and starts fucking my face — grinding roughly, using my mouth however she wants.
“That’s it—eat my pussy, baby. You’re so fucking good for me,” she moans, voice breaking as she gets closer. “Such a perfect little wife… making me feel this good… fuck—!”
Her thighs clamp down even harder around my head as her whole body tenses.
She cums hard.
Christina lets out a deep, guttural moan, hips jerking against my face while she floods my mouth. I keep licking and sucking through every pulse, swallowing everything she gives me, my tongue still working her clit as she rides it out.
“You’re so fucking good, baby… shit—yes, just like that… take it all,” she groans, still grinding against my tongue while the orgasm rips through her. “My good girl… making your wife cum so hard in your pretty mouth…”
Her legs tremble violently around my head, abs flexing and twitching as wave after wave hits her. I don’t stop until she finally starts to come down, her grip on my hair loosening just a little, breath coming in heavy pants.
Only then do I slow my tongue, giving her soft, gentle licks to help her ride out the aftershocks
I keep licking her gently, soft slow strokes of my tongue through her folds, helping her ride out the last little tremors. Christina’s breathing is still heavy, her strong thighs slowly relaxing around my head.
Without warning, I slide two fingers inside her — nice and deep, but gentle, curling them slightly as I push in.
Christina’s eyes fly open and she bites down hard on her lower lip, a surprised little gasp escaping her. Her hand grips the edge of the couch tighter, knuckles turning white, but she doesn’t push me away. She just lets me in, pussy clenching around my fingers instantly.
“Give me more, please?…” I whisper softly against her clit, voice sweet and needy. “Let me take care of you now, baby.”
I start moving my fingers slowly, pumping in and out with a gentle rhythm while my tongue keeps giving her light, soothing licks around her clit. Christina’s abs tighten, her chest rising and falling fast as she stares down at me with dark, hazy eyes.
“That’s it… just relax for me,” I murmur, pressing a soft kiss to her inner thigh before going back to her pussy. “You feel so fucking good, Christina. So tight around my fingers… god, I love how you’re squeezing me right now.”
I curl my fingers upward, stroking that soft, spongy spot inside her with every slow thrust. My pace stays steady and gentle, but deep enough to make her hips twitch.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” I whisper, looking up at her while I finger-fuck her. “My strong, gorgeous wife… letting me play with this pretty pussy. You’re dripping all over my hand, baby. So wet and warm… I could do this for hours.”
Christina lets out a shaky breath, biting her lip harder as her hips start rolling subtly against my fingers. I keep talking her through it, voice soft and loving.
“You’re doing so good… just let me make you feel good. This tight little pussy is gripping me so perfectly. I love feeling every flutter when I hit that spot… right here.”
I press my fingers firmer against her g-spot, rubbing in slow circles while my tongue flicks gently over her clit.
Her breathing gets shallower, more desperate.
Her thighs start trembling again around me.
Then, in the softest, breathiest whimper, she manages to say “I’m… gonna cum…”
It’s quiet this time — no loud moans, no screaming. She’s too breathless, too overwhelmed. Her whole body tenses, pussy clamping down hard around my two fingers as the orgasm washes over her.
She cums gently but intensely, a fresh wave of wetness coating my fingers and dripping down my hand. Her hips roll slowly against me, riding my fingers through every pulse while soft, broken little whimpers slip from her lips.
I don’t pull my fingers out. I keep them buried deep inside her, curling gently to help her ride it out as long as possible. At the same time, I crawl up her body and kiss her — swallowing every quiet moan and whimper straight from her mouth, tasting her pleasure while she trembles beneath me.
Christina kisses me back weakly, one hand coming up to cup the back of my head as the aftershocks roll through her. Her pussy keeps fluttering and squeezing around my fingers, still buried inside her.
I keep them there, letting her ride the last little waves until her body finally starts to relax, limp and glowing against the couch.
For a few seconds she just lies there, eyes half-lidded, looking at me with pure heat and affection.
Then she moves.
Without warning she surges up, grabbing my face with both hands and crashing her mouth into mine in a rough, hungry kiss. Her tongue pushes past my lips, claiming me hard as she tastes herself on me. I moan into the kiss, but she’s already moving — pulling me with her as she stands up from the couch and walks us backwards toward the fireplace.
The warm glow of the fire lights up her naked body as she pushes me down onto the soft rug. I land on my back with a little gasp, and she’s instantly on top of me again, kissing me deep and filthy, grinding her hips against mine.
But I’m not done playing tonight.
I brace my hands on her shoulders and flip us with a surge of strength, rolling until I’m straddling her waist. Christina lets out a surprised growl, but I don’t give her time to react. I slam my lips back down on hers, kissing her just as hard, tongues sliding messily while I rock my body against her.
I break the kiss only to attack her neck — sucking and biting harder than before, leaving fresh dark marks right over the ones I made earlier. Christina arches under me with a low moan. I trail lower, mouth latching onto one of her perky tits. I suck her nipple deep into my mouth, tongue flicking fast and hard, then switch to the other one, giving it the same wet, greedy attention until both are swollen and shiny.
I release her nipple with a loud, wet pop and lean down to kiss her again — but Christina moves like lightning.
She flips us back over in one powerful motion, pinning me beneath her on the rug. Her muscular arms cage me in as she stares down at me with dark, predatory eyes and a wicked little smirk.
“You’re not gonna win, baby,” she growls against my lips, voice low and rough. “Not tonight.”
Before I can answer, she shifts her body, swinging one strong leg over mine and pulling me into position. She presses her soaked pussy right against mine, clit to clit, and starts grinding slow and deliberate.
The first slide of her wet heat against me makes me whimper loudly. Christina holds my thigh up with one hand, the other braced beside my head as she starts scissoring me properly — rolling her hips in deep, steady circles, rubbing our clits together with every movement.
“Fuck… feel that?” she breathes, eyes locked on mine. “This is mine. This pretty pussy is all mine tonight.”
The friction is perfect — wet, hot, and intense. Every roll of her hips sends sparks shooting through me as our slick folds slide and grind against each other. The fire crackles beside us, casting flickering light over our bodies while Christina picks up the pace, fucking me with deep, possessive grinds.
Christina shifts fully into position, pressing her soaked, swollen pussy right against mine. The moment our clits touch, a sharp moan escapes both of us. She starts grinding slow and deep, rolling her hips in perfect, filthy circles so every slick slide sends sparks through my whole body.
“Fuck, baby…” she breathes, voice husky as she stares down at me. “Your pussy feels so fucking good against mine. So wet… so warm… sliding all over me like this. You’re dripping everywhere.”
She grips my thigh tighter, pulling it higher against her hip so she can grind harder. Her pace picks up, hips snapping with more force, our clits rubbing relentlessly with every thrust.
“That’s it… grind back on me, baby. Move those hips just like that—yes, fuck—keep rubbing that pretty clit on mine.”
I obey instantly, rolling my hips up to meet her, the wet sounds of our pussies grinding together filling the room along with the crackle of the fireplace. Christina’s breathing gets heavier, her muscular body flexing above me as she fucks me harder with every roll.
“God, I love this,” she groans, eyes half-lidded with pleasure. “Love feeling how slippery and needy you get for me. Your pussy is fluttering already… you’re getting so close, aren’t you?"
We keep grinding—faster, messier, more desperate. The friction is perfect, our clits sliding and pressing with every thrust. Sweat glistens on her skin, her abs tightening every time she snaps her hips forward.
I can feel it building fast, that tight coil in my belly getting ready to snap.
“Baby… I’m close—” I whimper, legs already starting to tremble.
Christina’s eyes flash and she shakes her head, still grinding hard and deep.
“Not yet… not yet… not yet—” she gasps breathlessly, her own voice breaking as she feels her orgasm rushing in too. Her hips stutter for a second before she doubles down, grinding even harder, faster, chasing it with me.
We crash over the edge at the exact same time.
“Fuck—!” I cry out as my orgasm slams into me, pussy pulsing hard against hers.
Christina lets out a deep, shaky moan right as she cums too, her whole body tensing. Our legs shake violently against each other, clits throbbing and rubbing through every powerful wave. Wetness gushes between us, making everything even slicker as we keep grinding through the peak, riding it out together until we’re both twitching and oversensitive.
Finally, Christina collapses on top of me, her sweaty body pressing me into the rug. We’re both panting hard, chests heaving, hearts racing against each other. For a long moment we just lie there, trying to catch our breath, soft little whimpers still slipping out.
Eventually she flops down beside me on the floor, lying on her back right next to me. She turns her head, looking at me with soft, loving eyes even though she’s still breathless.
“Happy anniversary, baby,” she whispers, voice rough and warm. “I love you so fucking much.”
summary: christina shares a fantasy she’s had about you for a while. turns out to be the best thing you’ve ever done.
warnings: face riding/sitting, none
authors note: i had sooo much funnn writing thisss all the lesbians are hungry for some christina right now. hope you guys enjoy :)
MEN DNI
likes and reblogs are deeply appreciated.
~~~~~~~~~~~
christina sits on the couch, flipping through the television, legs spread apart, relaxed. you watch your girlfriend from the kitchen in awe, like her beauty is she’s not even real.
you walk over and climb onto her. just to steal another kiss. its supposed to be innocent. that’s the lie you tell yourself.
“hi,” christina smiles when she feels you on her lap, her hands land on your hips automatically, muscle memory, thumbs warm.
nothing about it stays innocent.
the kisses start slow, lazy, like you’ve got all the time in the world. she hums softly as you deepens it, head tilting back against the couch, mouth opening without thinking. you feel that sound everywhere. you shift just slightly, and her breath hitches.
you both pause.
“you okay?” she murmurs, forehead pressed yours.
you nod, but her grip on you tightens. “yeah.” it comes out more breathless than intended.
she smiles, smug and pleased, and lifts her hips up.
you can’t help the groan that escapes your mouth. her head drops forward onto your shoulder. this is the thing that breaks you everytime. she laughs.
she leans down, mouth brushing your jaw instead of your lips. “what?”
christina’s hands slide, firmer now. like a switch flipped inside her. you feel it and press closer, knees straddling christina’s thighs, fully settled now.
your kisses get messier. deeper. christina kisses you like if she stops you’ll fade away.
you still suddenly, studying her face—her dilated pupils looking up at you like you’re the greatest thing shes ever held. her grip hasn’t loosened even a little.
christina swallows. her thumb traces a slow line into your hip, absentmindedly.
“can i tell you something without you laughing at me?”
you soften immediately. “always.”
there’s a long pause. christina looks up at her from under her lashes in a way that makes your chest ache.
“i’ve been thinking about this,” she admits quietly. “about you. about us. and what i want to do to you.” her voice drops on the last part, rougher. “and i can’t get it out of my head.”
your breath catches excitedly. “yeah?”
“i want you to sit on my face.”
the silence that follows after is palpable.
you blink. then laugh, just stunned. you have been dating for a year now, and she’s never said anything like that before. never talked about the fantasies she had about you. but now that it’s out, you’ve never wanted anything so bad.
“i’m serious,” christina says, immediately. “i mean only if you want to. i don’t want to make it weird. i just—” she exhales, embarrassed but steady. “i think about it a lot.”
you stare at her for a second.
“it’s not weird,” you murmur against her mouth. “its… very convincing.”
christina lets out a shaky laugh, relived.
you pull back just enough to smirk. “bedroom,” you say. “now.”
and christina knows—she knows—she’s already lost.
you don’t say anything else—just stumble to the bedroom, laughing under your breath, hands everywhere, tripping over each other like gravity’s optional.
christina barely has time to sit before she’s being pushed back onto the bed.
she lands on her back, blinking up at you. you feel calmer now. focused. you crawl over her, slow and deliberate, palms pressing into the mattress on either side of christina’s shoulders.
“you okay?” she asks, voice rough, eyes never leaving your face.
“never better,” you smile. not sweet. dangerous.
your fingers slide into christina’s hair, just testing at first, then gripping. christina’s breath stutters immediately.
then you lower onto her face. the second you do, the second her tongue flattens against you, the second her nose hits you, everything breaks.
christina’s hands fly to your hips on instinct. like she’s afraid you’ll fall apart if she doesn’t hold on.
you gasp, sharp and surprised, your whole body jolting as sensation crashes through you. it’s different, out of this world almost. and you’re suddenly shaking, trying to stay upright, trying to breathe.
“oh chris—,” you whisper, voice already wrecked. “oh my god.”
she does not slow down.
if anything, she gets faster. her mouth moving more desperately, like she hasn’t eaten anything in days. something has shifted deep in her chest. her grip tightens, thumbs digging in as you start rocking without even realizing, chasing her mouth.
“holy shit,” you pant, head tipping back. “god you feel so fucking good, baby.”
christina laughs into her, cocky like she knows. it sends you spiraling. the sounds that come out are broken and helpless. your fingers are tangled into her hair now, pulling without meaning to.
christina’s nose keeps bumping the spot you need it the most and you see stars, head is in the clouds. her tongue is everywhere, so deep, so good, and completely relentless.
“i can’t—” you choke, hips stuttering. “i- im so close—“
christina just holds you tighter, letting the weight of you press down onto her face more. this is exactly where she wants you. she’s waited for this. there’s nowhere else in the world she’d rather be than right here, completely gone.
you finally collapse forward, forehead dropping to the headboard of the bed, still shaking, breathing hard, the room spinning.
for a second, neither of you move.
then christina’s hand slides up your back, slow and grounding.
“you good?” she murmurs.
you laughs weakly, pressing a kiss into her skin.
“yeah,” she says. “i’m… yeah.”
christina smiles to herself, still wrecked, still catching her breath.
“told you it’d be fun.”
you lift her head just enough to look at her, eyes dark, smile lazy.
“next time,” she says quietly, “i’m not warning you.”
