You see the muscles in his face twitch before he even realizes he's doing it again. His eyes flutter shut, jaw widening as his lips part, stretching wider until the sound that's been irritating you slips out.
"Haahhh," the yawn slips out loudly and tiredly from him. His arms stretch behind him as if trying to release every last bit of sleep that lingers on his body.
You don't think he's even aware that was his fifth yawn in what felt like less than a minute.
"Have you been sleeping well, Qifrey?" As much as his yawns annoyed you, the thought of him being unwell worried you more.
"I wish I could say that I have, but honestly," the light tinge of pink dusts his cheeks, his hand awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as a dopey smile creeps onto his lips, "I've been a little restless."
"Have you had any of the herbal tea Tetia prepared for you?"
"Down to the last drop," Qifrey murmurs, his head drooping onto your shoulder as he closes his eyes. He lies there, ready to accept even an ounce of the slight possibility of sleep.
There's a beat of silence before you whisper into his ear, and your words have the opposite effect of sleep. His eyes snap open, and his body jerks away from yours as he stiffens. His lips part again, but not because he's about to yawn—no, he's wide awake, heart beating out of his chest. His mouth opens and closes, at a loss for words.
"You…think that would work?" He doesn't reject your offer. Instead, he's flustered, flushed with red, as he looks at you wide-eyed.
"One way to find out."
The sun has set, and the moonlight creeps into Quifrey's bedroom.
You're sitting on his bed while he rests his head on your lap, his lips nursing at your breasts. Quiet, wet slurps as his lips suckle softly at your teat. His eyes flutter softly, quiet murmurs of moans slip from his mouth, tongue flicking your hardened nipple. It teases you, sensitive to the flicks of his tongue. A quiet whine slips from you as your body trembles slightly before you pay him back the favor.
Your hand, slick and intoxicated from his musk, slows its rhythm. You squeeze the shaft of his cock a little harder as you trail upwards. The pretty pink color of the head oozes the pearly white cum from its opening, dousing your fingers in its color.
The pace of your hand edges him. His hips buck impatiently into your hand, cock throbbing and pulsing in your magical touch. He can feel himself inching closer to release, and hopefully a good night's sleep. The tip of his cock weeps the pretty white down his length, forming slick milky white webs between your fingers, and a frothy white pooling at the base of his cock. His lips pull from your nipple with a satisfying 'pop,' and his eyes squeeze shut.
"I'm c-cumming," his voice stutters between the whiny gasp of his breath. His breath labors. Every breath matched the pulsating twitch of his cock. His hips snap upwards, back lifting off your lap as a sharp gasp echoes in the walls.
It was undeniable. He could feel the heavy drag of his eyelids with every blink, lips parted as he caught his breath. He was curled up, losing the fight to stay awake, but that was the whole point.
"Good night, Qifrey."
Olruggio: Good Morning
Olruggio had a terrible habit of sleeping in. Even when the sun crept through the window by his hammock-like bed, the warmth of the sheets pulled him back into a deep slumber. You were determined to make him an early bird—as Quifrey likes to call himself—but Olruggio was more of a black cat—curling into himself and napping in the morning sun. Maybe a little incentive would help.
For a moment, Olruggio suspects Coco's brush buddy has sneaked back into the room, but the movement is larger, a little heavier than a brush buddy's. With every movement, it emits a warmth that has him almost drifting back to sleep, were it not for the small, wet kisses traveling up his chest. Pulling the covers over himself, he's met with your coy smile and batting lashes.
"Oi, what's this?" his already gruff voice is rougher with the sleep that refuses to leave his body. His lidded, tired eyes stare at yours that twinkle with bits of mischief. "It's too damn early in the morning."
"Really?" you purr at him. Your feverish hands rest on his chest, slithering down until they catch the hem of his pants. "I just want to make sure you have a good morning…"
You tug his pants down, and Olruggio sits up, making it easier for you. He's slouched against the brick wall, eyes still heavy with sleep, watching as you do your magic.
Your fingers playfully squeeze the muscles of his thigh, massaging away the knots of tension. Your warm breath hits his stirring cock, hardening with every peckish kiss. A deep chuckle slips from his lips as he watches you burrow yourself into the patch of dark hair between his legs. His ears pick up the dark pants of your breath, bathing yourself in his musk.
Your kisses grow heavier… sloppier. Your slobber bathes his cock, drowning it in your essence. Puffy lips drag up and down the length of his girthy cock. You're too much of a tease for him, especially when it's too early in the morning for him.
With a final kiss, you pull back, and a trail of spit follows you.
"That's it?" his voice betrays him, coming off more needy than he intended.
"You're awake, aren't you?"
"What you gave me was a morning kiss," Olruggio leans forward, grabbing you by your hips. His fingers catch at the hem of your loose sleepwear, pulling the thin sleep shorts off until your pantied, clothed pussy stares right at his salivating mouth. "Waiting for my good morning."
"Every good morning starts with a hearty breakfast, wouldn't you agree?"
"I do."
Olruggio doesn't waste a second before your underwear pools around your ankles, and his thick, large fingers spread the folds of your cunt apart. A slick shine webs between them, and his mouth latches on. His tongue laps upwards between your pulsating pussy, your withering legs, shaking in his hands, ticklish from the gruff hair of his beard. A deep groan rumbles from his chest, nose nudging your swollen, needy clit. Your slick runs down his chin, and you're pulling at his dark, messy bed hair.
If a weeping pussy is the reward he gets for waking up early (on time), he wouldn't mind putting in the effort once in a while.
A/n: I had a plot...then I lost it!
Unless I saw it wrong, but Olruggio's bed is the hammock attached to the brick wall, right?!?! I mean...imagining riding him and hearing the chains rattling with every bounce on his cock...imagine if y'all break the bed. RAHHH FUCKING IN THE AIR IN A FULL NELSON!!!! I mean, what??? Who said that!!!
