someone commented on strawberry breeze that oscar should have legendary lesbian sex with someone to make up for that experience, preferably with alex albon.
and sure, alex is not a girl in that universe but it got me thinking anyway and i couldn’t fall asleep so. Well
have some pialbon yuri feat. facesitting/69
💙🧡
“F-fuck, Alex, I’m—” Oscar cries out. Her stomach spasms uncontrollably, the force of her orgasm rippling through the muscles of her abdomen. Distantly, underneath the overwhelming rush of pleasure, she feels Alex’s hand flex, keeping her pinned to the bed.
Somehow, the second orgasm is even better than the first.
She opens her eyes to see Alex emerge from between her quivering legs. Her head pops up—oops, Oscar thinks, when she sees the mess she’s made of Alex’s hair—and there’s a self-satisfied smile playing on her glistening lips.
“Fine,” Oscar rolls her eyes. “I shouldn’t have doubted you.”
“Mmhm.” Alex drums her fingers on Oscar’s thigh. “And?”
“And nothing.”
Alex barks out a laugh, leaning back with it. “C’mon, admit it, I’m better at this than you. You came in, like, two minutes.”
Oscar feels herself blush as she sputters, “What— That’s hardly fair,” she complains. But it is, kinda. She did come quite quickly, but hey, Alex had already made her come once, and her second orgasm is always easier. “You didn’t let me keep going after—”
Alex creeps up the bed until she’s holding herself up a few inches above Oscar, forearms braced on either side of her head. Her hair brushes Oscar’s temple where it’s falling in a curtain of dark brown.
“Okay, okay. Relax, Piastri,” she says, laughing. She really has a pretty smile, her teeth straight and white. “It’s not that serious.”
Oscar knows it isn’t, but a part of her prides herself on it, on being competent at—well, this. It must show on her face, because Alex’s smile grows a teasing edge.
“But, I mean, if you’re so keen on proving yourself.” Alex’s eyes drop to Oscar’s lips and she ducks down for a kiss, the taste of Oscar’s own arousal there-and-gone in less than a second. “I don’t mind a second round.”
Oscar’s nodding before she’s even done speaking. Alex laughs again, and even though her eyes are dark, from this close Oscar can see how her pupils have practically swallowed her irises.
Alex goes to climb off, but Oscar catches her hips.
“Wait, I want—” she starts. The sight of Alex straddling her, the slight slope of her waist, her long torso and small tits, makes her swallow. “You can, um. Sit on my face. If you want.”
Alex blinks a few times before she’s surging forward and her lips are back on Oscar’s, hot and urgent.
“Jesus Christ,” she says, barely breaking the kiss to make herself audible. “I don’t think you realize sometimes how fucking hot you sound.” There’s a puff of warm air against her cheek as Alex scoffs and starts pulling herself up again. “Like, yeah, Oscar, if you insist. I can take one for the team and sit on your face,” she says, in a world-weary tone.
Oscar is probably redder than a tomato at this point. “Shut up.”
Done being mocked, she uses her hands on Alex’s hips to pull her forward. Giggling, Alex shuffles up Oscar’s torso until her knees are on each side of Oscar’s head, and Oscar’s staring directly at her cunt.
It’s puffy and wet, a mix of Alex’s arousal and her own spit from earlier. She can’t stop looking at it.
Alex lets herself fall back onto her haunches, almost sitting on Oscar’s chest. She tuts. “My eyes are up here.”
A huffed laugh escapes Oscar’s mouth, and even though Alex looks serious, committed to the bit, Oscar doesn’t miss how the brush of air on her sensitive folds makes her shiver. Alex tangles her fingers in Oscar’s hair, and her eyes turn darker, hungrier.
“You look incredible,” she says. “Wish I could keep you like this, down there between my legs. You wouldn’t complain, yeah?”
Oscar shakes her head, feeling the pull of Alex’s fingers as she does it. The words make her light-headed, dizzy with the need to make Alex feel good, to be good. “Please,” she whines.
“I’ve got you, don’t worry.” Alex lifts herself a little, spreading her knees so that all Oscar needs to do is stretch her neck slightly, part her lips and— “Oh, fuck, yeah. Like that, baby.”
Oscar hums contentedly at the familiar taste. Sliding her hands down to Alex’s thighs, she kneads into the muscle—it’s tense from the effort of holding herself up. Sure, she’s doing that so she doesn’t drop her whole weight on Oscar’s face and suffocates her, but frankly? Right now, Oscar reckons there are worse ways to go.
She’s supposed to be proving a point, she remembers vaguely, so she pulls out all the stops. It’s easier when she already knows what Alex likes, has already made her come once. Knows that she likes it sloppier, for example. When it’s so wet that it’s all you can hear, basically, the obscene sounds filling the room. That, along with a litany of moans and curses from above are Oscar’s reward for exploiting that knowledge.
The thighs around Oscar’s head clamp down, scorching hot against her ears, and Alex is making these little swirling motions with her hips, and it’s like she’s nothing but a mouth, really, nothing but a seat for Alex, made for her to use and make herself feel good. The thought of it makes her moan, her own cunt clenching around nothing.
“God, look at you.” Oscar opens her eyes to find Alex doing exactly that, mouth slack. She grinds her hips in longer strokes, properly riding Oscar’s face now, and Oscar keeps her tongue in place so that Alex’s clit drags against it with each roll. “You like it so much, don’t you? Such a slut.”
Christ. Oscar’s eyes roll back at the words, and she digs her fingers into the firm skin of Alex’s arse, hard enough to bruise.
“It’s unfair though,” Alex comments between gasps.
“Hng hn?” Is it?
“Y-yeah— I mean, you’re making me feel so good, and I wanna keep making you feel good too, but it’s— ah, you get what I mean?” Oscar doesn’t really, sort of wishes Alex would just shut up and enjoy it, but another thing she’s learned today is that Alex is surprisingly talkative in bed. “You’re so good at it, you deserve—”
This—Alex riding her face, coming on her tongue—is more than what she deserves, Oscar would argue, but she’s so wet she can barely think. Can feel herself soaking the hotel bedsheets, unfortunately for whoever has to clean this room after they’re done.
Through the haze, an idea occurs to her.
“Turn around,” she pulls off just enough to say, her voice hoarse to her own ears. Alex stares down at her, confused, and Oscar taps her hip lightly. “C’mon.”
“Oh.” Realization dawns on Alex’s face. “You mean—”
“Do you want to?”
Alex nods wordlessly, so hard a strand of hair falls from behind her ear. Oscar smirks at the fact that this is what finally managed to shut her up.
So they reposition themselves until Alex is facing the opposite direction, knees still bracketing Oscar’s head, but now Oscar has a perfect view of her arse and Alex can lean forward to—yeah. It’s been a while since Oscar’s done this—since Oscar has 69’d, if we’re being technical about it—and she doesn’t remember liking it the first (and only) time, but since they’re both keen, well. Oscar reckons it’s worth a shot.
Alex doesn’t wait for permission, ducking down to press the flat of her tongue against Oscar’s clit, swiping it up and down enthusiastically. Oscar feels it directly when she herself leans up to reciprocate, because Alex’s rhythm falters, her breath hitching.
It’s—
Yeah, it’s very much not like the last time Oscar’s done this.
It’s hard to focus, and who was Oscar trying to fool, before? Alex is amazing at this. Oscar keeps trying to find a rhythm but every time she’s close, Alex does something with her tongue that takes her back to square one. She keeps having to stop, mouth open against Alex’s cunt, before she can recover and keep going.
Which is. Embarrassing, kind of, but also Alex’s thighs are already unsteady so maybe she’s not doing too badly herself.
One would think they’d turn it into more of a competition, given all the big talk earlier about being the best at giving head and whatnot. But they’re both so into it that it’s becoming less a matter of proving anything and more of just—enjoying it.
Enjoying the smooth skin at the back of Alex’s thighs as she runs her hands up to cup her arse and spread her open. Enjoying how Alex’s weight settles more heavily onto her when Oscar gets the angle just right, like her arms are about to give out. Enjoy the hitched, breathy noise Alex makes when Oscar takes her tongue further up, exploring.
Soon enough, Alex gasps out, “OscarohmyGodfuckgonnacome.”
So Oscar closes her lips around Alex’s clit and sucks, touching her index finger to Alex’s rim—massaging but not pressing in—and that’s enough to tip Alex over the edge. She comes loudly, her whole body shuddering with it.
The vibrations of her moans against Oscar’s cunt are just too much, and her own orgasm catches her by surprise. Somehow, she’d been so focused she missed the building pressure in her groin, and now the sensation floods into her at once, devastating.
This time Oscar only comes back online after a few seconds, when she feels Alex rolling off of her, the slide of sweaty skin making her grimace. Alex flops down on the bed, head is still facing the other direction, calves next to Oscar’s head, and they both stare at the ceiling, breathing together.
“That was—”
“Mate, that—”
They start at the same time, then dissolve into breathless laughter, giddy and wrung-out. Oscar turns her head to look at where Alex’s body is still twitching slightly with aftershocks.
“Come here,” Oscar croaks. She taps the mattress between them, blindly feeling out for Alex’s hand.
Alex chuckles but obediently shifts around, crawling back up until they’re face to face again, on their sides. Her hair is an even worse disaster now, and her lips are swollen and red. Even though her eyes are half-shut from exhaustion, the grin she gives Oscar is bright.
“Hi,” she says.
“Hi,” Oscar replies, and pulls her down into a lazy kiss that tastes like both of them.
