“I – wow,” Nott said, trying to hide her blush with her hands. Another wet twitch rolled through her cunt. “Do you always talk like this?”
“Sometimes,” he said. “Sometimes I'm facedown in the mattress. It depends on how I'm feeling that day.” He kissed the inside of her knee, letting his tongue linger on the skin. “Oh, this'll be fun, you're small and flexible.”
“I – excuse me?” Nott asked, propping herself up on her elbows. “What are you planning down there exactly?”
“What? The horns get in the way on bigger people,” Molly said, tapping one sharp keratin point. “Most people don't want to get poked in the thigh all night, it turns out, so I don't get to do this as much as I'd like to.”
“So by this you mean specifically –” Nott flicked her tongue between two spread fingers. Molly snorted quietly. “That's something you like, then?”
“Oh, it's a favorite,” he said. “What can I say? I like making people happy.” And with that he bent his head again, licking slowly at the ticklish inside of her thigh. Nott spread her legs a little wider, making careful space, and twisted her fingers in the sheets. The first slick slide of his tongue along her folds made her whine. Molly rubbed at her hip, soothing and gentle, and ran his tongue along her slit again.
“Oh fuck,” she squeaked breathlessly, “oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck...” It felt like nothing she'd ever known before, a silk-smooth hot caress, covering more of her cunt in a single stroke than her own fingers ever could. Again and again he licked at her, opening her painstakingly up; then he closed his lips over her clit, flickering his tongue. She bit back a shriek.
“Too much?” he asked, lifting his head. His mouth gleamed wet already.
“No, that – that was nice –” It felt like pleasant lightning, like heady liquor-burn. She wanted it and thought she might overload and die, both at once. Her thoughts were scattered; she was trying not to roll her hips up against his face. “Don't stop?”
“Mmm.” He didn't go for her clit directly again; instead he spread his lips wide against her skin and sucked at her whole cunt at once, and Nott closed her eyes and gave herself up to the feeling.
“That's – that's good,” she choked out. He'd seemed to like it when she praised him, earlier, and it was as much as she knew how to do for a friend. “You're so good at this, Molly, you're the best I've ever had – mm!” He curled his tongue up against the underside of her clit, and she grabbed once more at the mattress. Linen tore under her fingers. “Oh, fuck –” She meant it for the damage, but Molly took it for encouragement and pressed his tongue there again, rougher now. “Oh fuck,” she gasped again, and that one really was for his performance.
He went back to the long strokes along the length of her labia, his lips a steady pressure around her, his breath wet against her skin. He moved faster now, and it melted her, so she didn't jerk back this time when he flicked his tongue up to circle her clit. She shoved up into the pressure, and his hands landed on her hips, his palms encompassing the jut of bone. His rings bit lightly into her skin.
“All right, I can stay still,” she panted. “You want me to stay still, I can hold still, whatever you want –” His thumb rubbed soothingly at the crease of her thigh, a steady counterpoint to the pressure of his mouth: the flat of his tongue was on her clit now, tip curling underneath to light her up white again. “Oh, I'm – I'm very close, you're really good at this, that feels really nice –” She was close; she could feel it coiling tight and desperate in her stomach. Her toes curled against the bed. “Please, please keep going, I really –” His lips closed sharp around her clit, and he hummed, a loud sharp note that resonated through her like an instrument. “Ah!” Her cunt clenched fluttering down, and she gasped as the orgasm rolled white-hot through her. “Oh fuck.”
Molly's tail twitched smugly against the blankets. He pulled off her clit, but he didn't lift his head; instead ran his tongue gently along the lips of her cunt again. There was something sweet and liquid about it, making her melt into the bed; no urgency to it anymore, just pleasure. She could lie there all night, she thought, and let him do this.
“It's – you can stop now,” she said, pushing herself to her elbows. The sheet was a crumpled band of cloth across her stomach by now. Molly only eased the tip of his tongue a little further into her, his tail beating gently against the bed. “I – Molly, did you hear me? You can stop now, it's all right.”
Finally he lifted his head, his hands still curled around her thighs. His mouth gleamed obscenely in the lamplight; locks of hair stuck sweaty to his face. “Do you want me to stop?”
“What – but – I already came.” She blinked down at him. “Couldn't you tell? I didn't think I was quiet, and you're, you know, you're so practiced at this –”
“Well, thank you for that,” he said. “Are you really satisfied with just the once? Because I was planning to do better than that.”
“I – wow. I. Whew.” She was blushing, she could feel it, hot and high in her cheeks. “Are you sure?”
“I mean, I want to be able to turn my head in the morning, but my neck's not even stiff yet,” he said. “That wasn't any time at all.” Softly he ran his hand down her thigh to her knee and up again, a far tenderer touch than his words. She'd seen him (try to) gentle the horses in the same way. “So what do you say? Two for the night?”
“I don't even know if I can,” she protested. “I mean, I'd like to, that sounds amazing, but – you might be down there a while?”
“Still not hearing a drawback to this,” he said, kissing the sharp jut of her hipbone. “I'm thinking I can manage to get you there.”
“You're very confident –” Before she could say anything else he slid his hand down the curve of her thigh to trace a teasing arc around her clit, not quite touching. Still gentle, he spread the folds of her cunt wide and got his tongue between them. The same sated-sweetness of before melted through her, but as he licked into her again and again, the tension began to coil in her gut.
“What do I taste like?” it occurred to her to ask. “Is it different from normal people?”
“I don't know,” Molly said, barely lifting his head, “I don't sleep with normal people.” He rubbed his thumb over her swollen clit, and she jerked up, whimpering as it shocked through her. “There we go.” The broad flat of his tongue swept over her skin, and then she felt the blunt shape of his finger easing into her. She groaned, biting down hard on her lip.
“I... don't think you're going to be able to fuck me,” she panted, clutching at the sheets. Feathers tickled the back of her fingers; she'd clawed something wide open, at some point. “That already feels really big.”
“Mmm-hm,” Molly said, or at least that was all she heard. His hair was sticking to her thigh – sweat, slick, she wasn't sure. His finger was scarcely in her at all, maybe to the first knuckle, but it was a thick pressure that would have been painful if her first orgasm hadn't left her wet and open. His tongue worked away above his finger, pressing in between her folds only to stroke up to her clit again. His lips fastened there roughly and sucked hard just as he crooked his finger. The wash of hot want almost hurt.
“All right, maybe this is going to work,” she panted. Molly's chuckle hummed against her skin. She closed her eyes and let it wash over her: the slow pump of his fingertip, the hungry press of his mouth, the slick sloppy sounds of what he was doing, the faint creaking of the bed as she squirmed. He didn't try to push his finger much deeper, just kept stroking, occasionally slipping out with a sharp pop to rub briefly between her folds and then push into her again. Each time was a stretch; it felt like the sharp crook of his finger could force an orgasm out of her, driving her to that edge again. Push, and she shoved her hips up; push, his tongue shoving rough now up under the hood of her clit; push, pushing herself closer, closer still, eyes screwed shut, breathless and hot. Push, she was almost there, new and wild, push, and then his tongue flickered lightning-fast against her clit and she wailed, knees locking, eyes screwed shut, every nerve in her body whiting out. A spurt of wetness pulsed out of her, spattering against his mouth. She could feel it dripping down her thighs.
The next flick of Molly's tongue made her whole body shudder in painful aftershock, twitching helplessly under his hands. “Stop, stop,” she panted, “stop, ah, too much – too much, that's, that's enough. That's enough.”
Smiling, he lifted his head; his entire chin was smeared wet. “That went well,” he said, wiping his fingers on the sheets. “Do you usually squirt?”
“No,” she said, with perfect honesty. “That's never happened before.” She could feel her cheeks burning. Molly beamed from ear to ear, half surprise and all delight.
"just finish the daydream," Nott/Mollymauk, E, 3/4, dysphoria + anxiety + consensual Charm Person
“Sometimes,” he said. “Sometimes I'm facedown in the mattress. It depends on how I'm feeling that day.” He kissed the inside of her knee, letting his tongue linger on the skin. “Oh, this'll be fun, you're small and flexible.”
“I – excuse me?” Nott asked, propping herself up on her elbows. “What are you planning down there exactly?”
“What? The horns get in the way on bigger people,” Molly said, tapping one sharp keratin point. “Most people don't want to get poked in the thigh all night, it turns out, so I don't get to do this as much as I'd like to.”
“So by this you mean specifically –” Nott flicked her tongue between two spread fingers. Molly snorted quietly. “That's something you like, then?”
“Oh, it's a favorite,” he said. “What can I say? I like making people happy.” And with that he bent his head again, licking slowly at the ticklish inside of her thigh. Nott spread her legs a little wider, making careful space, and twisted her fingers in the sheets. The first slick slide of his tongue along her folds made her whine. Molly rubbed at her hip, soothing and gentle, and ran his tongue along her slit again.
“Oh fuck,” she squeaked breathlessly, “oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck...” It felt like nothing she'd ever known before, a silk-smooth hot caress, covering more of her cunt in a single stroke than her own fingers ever could. Again and again he licked at her, opening her painstakingly up; then he closed his lips over her clit, flickering his tongue. She bit back a shriek.
“Too much?” he asked, lifting his head. His mouth gleamed wet already.
“No, that – that was nice –” It felt like pleasant lightning, like heady liquor-burn. She wanted it and thought she might overload and die, both at once. Her thoughts were scattered; she was trying not to roll her hips up against his face. “Don't stop?”
“Mmm.” He didn't go for her clit directly again; instead he spread his lips wide against her skin and sucked at her whole cunt at once, and Nott closed her eyes and gave herself up to the feeling.
“That's – that's good,” she choked out. He'd seemed to like it when she praised him, earlier, and it was as much as she knew how to do for a friend. “You're so good at this, Molly, you're the best I've ever had – mm!” He curled his tongue up against the underside of her clit, and she grabbed once more at the mattress. Linen tore under her fingers. “Oh, fuck –” She meant it for the damage, but Molly took it for encouragement and pressed his tongue there again, rougher now. “Oh fuck,” she gasped again, and that one really was for his performance.
He went back to the long strokes along the length of her labia, his lips a steady pressure around her, his breath wet against her skin. He moved faster now, and it melted her, so she didn't jerk back this time when he flicked his tongue up to circle her clit. She shoved up into the pressure, and his hands landed on her hips, his palms encompassing the jut of bone. His rings bit lightly into her skin.
“All right, I can stay still,” she panted. “You want me to stay still, I can hold still, whatever you want –” His thumb rubbed soothingly at the crease of her thigh, a steady counterpoint to the pressure of his mouth: the flat of his tongue was on her clit now, tip curling underneath to light her up white again. “Oh, I'm – I'm very close, you're really good at this, that feels really nice –” She was close; she could feel it coiling tight and desperate in her stomach. Her toes curled against the bed. “Please, please keep going, I really –” His lips closed sharp around her clit, and he hummed, a loud sharp note that resonated through her like an instrument. “Ah!” Her cunt clenched fluttering down, and she gasped as the orgasm rolled white-hot through her. “Oh fuck.”
Molly's tail twitched smugly against the blankets. He pulled off her clit, but he didn't lift his head; instead ran his tongue gently along the lips of her cunt again. There was something sweet and liquid about it, making her melt into the bed; no urgency to it anymore, just pleasure. She could lie there all night, she thought, and let him do this.
“It's – you can stop now,” she said, pushing herself to her elbows. The sheet was a crumpled band of cloth across her stomach by now. Molly only eased the tip of his tongue a little further into her, his tail beating gently against the bed. “I – Molly, did you hear me? You can stop now, it's all right.”
Finally he lifted his head, his hands still curled around her thighs. His mouth gleamed obscenely in the lamplight; locks of hair stuck sweaty to his face. “Do you want me to stop?”
“What – but – I already came.” She blinked down at him. “Couldn't you tell? I didn't think I was quiet, and you're, you know, you're so practiced at this –”
“Well, thank you for that,” he said. “Are you really satisfied with just the once? Because I was planning to do better than that.”
“I – wow. I. Whew.” She was blushing, she could feel it, hot and high in her cheeks. “Are you sure?”
“I mean, I want to be able to turn my head in the morning, but my neck's not even stiff yet,” he said. “That wasn't any time at all.” Softly he ran his hand down her thigh to her knee and up again, a far tenderer touch than his words. She'd seen him (try to) gentle the horses in the same way. “So what do you say? Two for the night?”
“I don't even know if I can,” she protested. “I mean, I'd like to, that sounds amazing, but – you might be down there a while?”
“Still not hearing a drawback to this,” he said, kissing the sharp jut of her hipbone. “I'm thinking I can manage to get you there.”
“You're very confident –” Before she could say anything else he slid his hand down the curve of her thigh to trace a teasing arc around her clit, not quite touching. Still gentle, he spread the folds of her cunt wide and got his tongue between them. The same sated-sweetness of before melted through her, but as he licked into her again and again, the tension began to coil in her gut.
“What do I taste like?” it occurred to her to ask. “Is it different from normal people?”
“I don't know,” Molly said, barely lifting his head, “I don't sleep with normal people.” He rubbed his thumb over her swollen clit, and she jerked up, whimpering as it shocked through her. “There we go.” The broad flat of his tongue swept over her skin, and then she felt the blunt shape of his finger easing into her. She groaned, biting down hard on her lip.
“I... don't think you're going to be able to fuck me,” she panted, clutching at the sheets. Feathers tickled the back of her fingers; she'd clawed something wide open, at some point. “That already feels really big.”
“Mmm-hm,” Molly said, or at least that was all she heard. His hair was sticking to her thigh – sweat, slick, she wasn't sure. His finger was scarcely in her at all, maybe to the first knuckle, but it was a thick pressure that would have been painful if her first orgasm hadn't left her wet and open. His tongue worked away above his finger, pressing in between her folds only to stroke up to her clit again. His lips fastened there roughly and sucked hard just as he crooked his finger. The wash of hot want almost hurt.
“All right, maybe this is going to work,” she panted. Molly's chuckle hummed against her skin. She closed her eyes and let it wash over her: the slow pump of his fingertip, the hungry press of his mouth, the slick sloppy sounds of what he was doing, the faint creaking of the bed as she squirmed. He didn't try to push his finger much deeper, just kept stroking, occasionally slipping out with a sharp pop to rub briefly between her folds and then push into her again. Each time was a stretch; it felt like the sharp crook of his finger could force an orgasm out of her, driving her to that edge again. Push, and she shoved her hips up; push, his tongue shoving rough now up under the hood of her clit; push, pushing herself closer, closer still, eyes screwed shut, breathless and hot. Push, she was almost there, new and wild, push, and then his tongue flickered lightning-fast against her clit and she wailed, knees locking, eyes screwed shut, every nerve in her body whiting out. A spurt of wetness pulsed out of her, spattering against his mouth. She could feel it dripping down her thighs.
The next flick of Molly's tongue made her whole body shudder in painful aftershock, twitching helplessly under his hands. “Stop, stop,” she panted, “stop, ah, too much – too much, that's, that's enough. That's enough.”
Smiling, he lifted his head; his entire chin was smeared wet. “That went well,” he said, wiping his fingers on the sheets. “Do you usually squirt?”
“No,” she said, with perfect honesty. “That's never happened before.” She could feel her cheeks burning. Molly beamed from ear to ear, half surprise and all delight.
“Fuck, I'm good,” he said.