lowkey waiting in line at 7brew rn
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The low light of Sevika’s apartment flickers across her scarred skin as she leans back against the worn couch. Her mechanical arm rests heavy on your hip while her flesh hand grips your thigh, holding you down.
You are straddling her lap, thighs spread wide, her thick strap buried inside you. The stretch is delicious and overwhelming. Every tiny shift makes you clench around the fat silicone cock, but Sevika keeps you pinned still.
“Stay right there,” she murmurs, voice low and smoky. She takes a slow drag from her cigar, eyes half-lidded as she watches you. “Just sit still for me.”
You whimper softly, trying not to rock your hips. The fullness has you dripping down her strap, slick coating her thighs.
Sevika’s mechanical fingers trace lazy circles on your skin, the cool metal a sharp contrast to how hot and full you feel.
“Look at you,” she says with a dark smirk, squeezing your ass. “Sitting so pretty on my cock. Clenching like you want me to fuck you stupid.”
You bite your lip, breathing shaky. The urge to move is torture. Sevika leans in, lips brushing your ear as she gives one small, teasing thrust upward.
“Not yet,” she whispers, voice rough. “You are going to sit on it until I say otherwise.” she chuckles softly. “Let that pretty pussy throb around every inch.”
She leans back again, cigar between her fingers, looking far too pleased with herself as she watches you.
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