finalflight | DEDICATED HENRATURRA POST;

[ it's an alien sensation, and her body tenses and strains beneath him for more control. he won't give that up now. he loves it and wants it as much as she does, and for her to give it up to him is surrender, because once his voice takes on the timbre it has now, he becomes selfish. greedy. he smears himself against her mouth, angling and arching, fluttering beneath her tongue.

he's touching himself. oh, she wishes she could see. she can feel the motion almost dully, as though through water, and tell from his body language couched around her that he has given in. when she cracks her eyes open, she gazes up his pretty spine glistening with sweat over every dip and swell.

wriggles her toes happily. an answering breathy moan: yes. yes, yes. Sprezzatura turns her hands to cup his chest, maybe tweak his nipples gently, and he'll enjoy the deep and probing sensation of her tongue working past pulsing muscle to toy inside, then sucking out, tugging out, lapping slickly at a slicker hole.

murmured, hoarse, ] What you are doing... it is very strange thing...

[ it's as though she has something living inside her cunt, trying to get out ]

[They're both greedy when it comes to sex in their own ways. Henry cedes plenty of power and control to her when she all but asks for it — but in moments like these, he will indulge, and take as he pleases, because they're uncommon. Until she says otherwise.

But she must enjoy it, too, in her own way. Her toes wiggling (cute, despite it all), her tongue still slipping past his rim, feeling him out. Her fingers squeezing quite successfully at his nipples. All of this elevates — none of it is proof of discomfort on her part. Or rather, a discomfort she'd not endure for his sake, a thought that only makes him love her more. Makes him want her forever.

He's not going to stop squirming atop her, touching himself, keeping her pinned, fucking her strangely with his powers. His reply is guttural, proof of his cognizance pulled in one direction and one direction only.]

Should I stop?

[Part tease, part assessment of what she thinks of it, his telekinesis filling, or stretching, slick on entry and exit without feeling truly present at all.]

[ it is unreal and intangible and defiantly there, slipping through wet muscle and parting her without any physical intrusion. her navel dips and swells as it would if his cock were stroking her in and out; she can feel it move. she wonders if there is pleasure for him in it. does an instrument of his mind fucking her make him shiver, are the goosebumps on his thighs a product of that, or of her tongue buried in his hole?

she doesn't answer right away, but instead kisses him hard, then lighter, then lighter, then just the ghost of her lips wet and warm across tender skin. ]

Maybe.

[ it's hard to speak when she's so out of breath and her heart is pumping like she's dying. her hands drift shaking down his body, down his stomach with her nails tickling at him. down to his hips. in. she covers his hand curled around himself: let me. ]

Play with my body. Use your hands.

[In a strictly physiological way, using his telekinesis only affects him with the occasional nosebleed when he's strained himself too much. But mentally, it excites the imagination, the very idea of manipulating her with his mind one more example of his control over her — and how it derives them both pleasure.

It's a shame to let that go, especially as she gifts him more fervent kisses, but then her hand is curled over his own, halting the way he touches himself just long enough to loosen his grip.]

Afraid I'm going to bleed all over you?

[Speaking of nosebleeds; he did just recover from one in the greenhouse. That said, it's a tease, and his powers retract from inside of her cunt, a sight that should be messy if it were anything else—fingers, cock, his own tongue—pulling out.

Hands free, he glides them up her thighs instead to start.]

Hm?

[ so easily, she's left empty, all that filling and squirming sensation ... gone. a piece of her regrets. it fades when his warm hands cup the undersides of her thighs. pulled up as though to cradle him, pulled up like a spider turned on its back.

... that had been nice. she still thinks about that time. ]

I like your blood.

[ he should know she's never been afraid of it. even as a child, and he told her to be, she hadn't been. she kisses him very slowly, now, as her hand cradles his cock as he had, unseen by her eyes. it's simply natural to hold him this way.

a probing lick. a pull up the length of him. she lingers beneath the head and pulls down again only as her tongue slips beneath to toy with the tender span between his balls and his hole. a chance to breathe. if he lets her. ]

[Teenage Henry Creel would very much still balk at the idea of Sapione licking up his nosebleed. 😭 Too bad(?) Adult Henry Creel kind of finds it sexy, so I guess there's no stopping her from indulging when she sees fit.]

Ah... uh-huh. [A very coherent reply as she strokes him again, her tongue pressing and licking in the space between two very sensitive areas. He'll allow her that reprieve for now, so she had best take the chance to breathe; because maybe in the next moment his weight adjusts just enough to steal it away from her again. But not wholly purposeful this time.

That's just the nature of it as he leaaaans forward, sliding one hand down in-between her legs. Just like before, but now with proper effort, not just a tease. He cups, massages gently, smearing her wetness across his palm.]

Stroke me off while I fuck you. [With his fingers.]

[ mmmn. feels nice. she lips at him once more, then nuzzles between his legs, admiring the curve of his spine as he leans. it's pink. her free hand slips around his thigh to stroke at the small of his back. the other obligingly pulls at his cock. once, twice, little twist at the base. once, twice, again. ]

Put middle and ring inside. Cup me with others.

[ is he still low enough to lick? a flick of her eyes downward seeks to get a glimpse at how wet and swollen she's left him.

she likes that he likes this. the profane nature of what they do and how easily they do it... she feels that it almost signifies a kind of deeper understanding. they will always do what makes the other feel good. they will always like how it feels to do that for them. they will never fight. ]

[A command for a command. It's only fair. She touches him so nicely, and not just the way she strokes him, which makes his aching cock twitch and eke more with nearly every pass. The distraction of his hands having their own job will be a nice way to prolong their sex.]

Just two fingers? After all we've done...

[The tentacles. His... entire arm when she was half-spider. The way she's bound like this reminds him of that time, too, but of course he only says this to joke with her.

And he is indeed still low enough to lick, especially with a tongue like hers. Her assessment will show that he's practically shining from her kissing, swollen just enough to accommodate the pretty pink flush around her rim and even slightly below. And yes, it's obscene; but they seem to enjoy that, don't they? It is an understanding between them, that the other person's pleasure is paramount to all. At least, that's how Henry feels.

His middle finger plunges in first, wiggling just enough to ease her open, even if that isn't necessary. And more slowly, his ring finger joins it, enjoying the feel of her parting to make room. Allll the way in, with the rest of his hand curving to fit the shape of her, cupped nice and snug.]

Just two. [ even after all they've done. the simplest, the gentlest, and intimate of its own merit. she sighs as he does as asked. ] Mmmn. This feels nice.

[ oh, his hand could belong there. keep her always warm. she rubs his back once, slowly, then pulls on a thigh to bring him back down. closer. her vision blocked again by his pretty back and the pretty flush all the way down it and below. the kiss is feather-light. ]

[He does as suggested, moving back enough to settle down closer. Her kisses are not the fervent ones from before, but rather gentle and considerate, almost ticklish were it not for how she's already left him swollen and aching.]

Everything's nice with you.

[He murmurs it mindlessly as he lets his weight rest against her fully again, though slightly more distributed than before since he's still stretched out to finger her. What a different angle than what he's used to, and within, his fingers wiggle to feel — and to hear, for the wet noises her cunt makes are just as appealing.]

You make everything perfect. If I could do this to you all day, I would.

You have.

[ that husky laugh fanning warm, because hasn't it been hours now since he beckoned her to the greenhouse? and further down the rabbit-hole—hadn't he convinced her mind that he had fucked her for hours and filled her to overflowing?

the apples of her cheeks lift in a smile, even nestled between Henry's. the wiggling is not particularly erotic, but it is still pleasant. him. his inexperience shines through even when he is trying so very hard to present control, and Sprezzatura likes that. ]

Henry...

[ there's her tongue again: warm, slippery, lapping at him, coaxing, as though his rim hasn't already accepted her before. his heartbeat seems to pulse in her fist. ]

[He had accepted her before, and he will accept her now, with even more ease than the last. She’ll barely have to push past that ring of muscle if that’s her true aim — and if not, it’s still as though his hole is primed for her in any way possible. More kisses, more licking, more anything.

It makes him shudder this time, absolutely aching for even more stimulation. His hips move to grind against her, but more pressingly, to encourage more friction against his still-twitching cock.

He palms her, rubs in slow massages, but his focus remains on his fingers. How he can fuck her from this angle — and the answer’s nearly the same as before. Fingers undulating inside, that come-hither motion with his hand simply facing a different direction. Ah, he wonders if he can slip in a third finger, too, and does so without even prompting. She’ll feel the stretch, no doubt.]

And all night.

[If only they could.]

[ she does, and she answers with a husky, muffled moan and the steady slip of her tongue inside him. she pulls on his cock and his thigh, holding him in place so that he's all but smothering her. her breath drips damply between his legs as she pants, making little, breathy sounds and nuzzling closer.

even still pinned to the mattress, the tip of her tail flickers happily. her toes curl and wriggle and her thighs flush as he fingers her. she loves how it feels. how it sounds. the sensation of something inside her, moving around. feeling him crook his fingers and squirm. she thumbs the tender head of his cock and pulls away, gasping, only long enough for breath before she burrows back in. she's so wet that he has her dripping. he may feel, or see, the shine. ]

[Both. He can feel it and see it, and his palm feels drenched with her, and his fingers briefly halt in faint paroxysm as her tongue slips inside once more.

Fuck. This is good. He might as well be smothering her with how he's situated now, and it seems like she all but encourages it. While she moves inside like a thing alive, the way she slides her thumb across his cockhead provides a small jolt down his spine. She'll feel it — proof of how close he is, and if she continues to stroke him off at any frequency, it won't take long for him to spill himself across her chest and belly.]

Careful... you'll make me come. All over you, until there's nothing left-

[He clenches playfully around her tongue, and his fingers continue. He sinks them in deeper—even if it gains him a half-centimeter more depth at most—and fucks her as fervently as his range of motion will allow from his angle, deeply and consistently.

His thoughts are becoming a bit disjointed-] I wonder if I can make you spill like before-

[Aha, with the tentacle. He won't forget that.]

[ ah, her body tingles with heat, but she doubts it. not without the fullness, of being splayed like that, and the unrelenting pressure rocking inside her like that. so heavy. so lithe. his fingers are a different pleasure—one apart. she tries to wriggle into the cupping of his palm, a sole pivot point, but he still has her pinned to the bed like a moth to paper.

Henry bears down on her tongue. it tugs, squeezes. she responds with a small huff, laughter melting into a moan, and kisses his rim with the loud smack of parting. ]

Ah-ah. [ she lets herself make noises and sighs through her parted lips as she slithers in and out. he will like the sound of them. ] Hhaaaahhh.

[ thump! her tailtip on the bedspread. thumbing only just beneath the head of his cock, now. can't have him coming too soon. ]

[Poor Sprezzatura. Any other man might be kind enough to give her a bit more freedom to move and ruck against the shape of his hand, but Henry... does not.

He does, however, let loose her tail from his telekinetic hold. Just to be cheeky about it, and just to see it move in his periphery, one more visual stimulation among the many.]

Ha...

[Oh yes, he likes the noises. The ones she makes both purposefully and not — the sound of her kisses are exceptionally indecent, and her long tongue dragging in and out of him is a refrain he won't forget for a while yet.

Even when she moves her attention away from the head of his cock, his fingers move within her at the same tempo, same enthusiasm, though of course he's going to decry the fact that she's trying to pull him away from the edge, despite his words. Henry clenches around her tongue again, presses his weight down on her, rolling his hips forward and back, seeking stimulation.]

[ Henry grinding onto her face, inexplicably, is the moment which sinks in the clearest. the moment which makes her heart thump hard in her chest and her face turn violet with blushing as he works her head into the mattress just humping down on her. she feels like... like a loose woman.

she tries to arch beneath him, breathless and overheating, toes curled tight and her hand trembling at his cockhead. little bastard. her thighs trembling, too. then—smack! on his backside, then her nails digging in and pulling pink lines over his cheek. ]

Mmmh.

[ she wants to... suck him. what a waste it would be on her stomach. her tongue pops free and snakes beneath: his balls, yes, but the sudden pulling pressure on his thigh as he rocks his hips asks for that something more.

panting hard, she whispers it: ] In my mouth—...

[If she feels like a loose woman, then what does that make him? He's just as indecent as her, probably more so depending on whatever he requests as of late, with the caveat that he feels no shame in any of it. Why should he? When he's with her, nothing else matters.

He feels it, though, just as he hears it. A shift, a change. She wants something different now, something more — maybe he can feel it, too, in the warble of her mind.

Another jolt with the sting of that spank, and the drag of her nails. As before, it straightens his spine, muscles moving beneath skin. Her tongue slinks out of his hole and eases against his thigh, pulling his hips back.]

Ohh? What about it?

[Like he can't guess. But hearing it is sublime, too. His fingers slide out, torturously slow, from her cunt, just to feel how the room's air cools against his skin.]

[ what cruel emptiness! she lips frantically at his balls, the smooth tender skin of his inner thighs, where he can feel her smile or her grimace. the kisses are wet and constant and she has lost grip on her pride; it is not only his fingers which cool in the room. Sprezzatura Vaux, pinned and curled beneath him, licks and kisses as though she'll die without it. ]

Bastard... [ at this, a sharp suck ] Slide your cock inside it.

[ somehow, imperious. a demand. maybe she hasn't lost all pride.

the only thing she can think about is having Henry inside her, in whatever way she can accomplish it. she is only just beginning to understand how immense her pleasure had been, swollen with his vines until she came and came and came. her own exposure to the room now, lips petalled and glistening, serves to intensify her craving for that fullness again, more keenly. ]

Bury it someplace warm.

[ as if to ward her cunt against Henry's selfishness, she lifts her tail in a twitch and glides it directly between her spread legs. ]

[He’d be more surprised if she had let go of her pride completely. No, that isn’t her at all and he knows it — of course she’d still command him to fill her mouth, and of course she’d take a mile when he gives an inch where her tail is concerned.

But he wants to watch as it slides between her legs, and he wants to feel how nigh desperately she licks at his balls, or sucks and kisses at his rim. His heartbeat feels everywhere, it utterly ignites every nerve and throws into stark contrast how much he wants. How much he’d like to please her, and how good it would feel to be seated inside of her again.

There’s a smile to his very breathy, low and haggard, reply.]

Oh, Ms Vaux. How could I deny you, hmm?

[The coyness is purposefully frustrating, probably. He drags his fingers across her thigh, where it leaves a cooling trail against her skin. There is, too, the slightest sting of his nails.]

Your face in my lap again?

[ very slowly, her tail wriggles in place. it would be nearly impossible to tell if not for the way her thighs tremble as though she's holding them so far up of her own effort. little motes of heat, liquid, pooling, spreading up her spine like a poison.

he speaks in that tone and the trembling gets so much worse. ]

N—Nno, ah. [ his fingernails. unthinking, Sprezzatura curls her own in on either thigh, and so holds him to her mouth. it's as though she can't bear to allow his rim to dry. ] Like this. [ suck, pop, nuzzle. ] Like first time.

[He laughs, breathy, in both response to her desperate kisses along his rim and her clarification.]

Oh, I liked the first time.

[And, with purpose, his telekinetic hold releases completely. For all her trembling, he might offer her a small reprieve, for her to wiggle about or rearrange herself (or him) as she sees fit. But moreover, this marks an impatience that continues to brew within Henry, ushering the next part forward as he lifts off of her.]

I'll be gentler.

[Than the first time, too, where she might've gagged a little.]

[ all at once she has no support to keep her legs up and open, and her entire body pitches a little as they wobble and collapse down on the mattress. toes dig into the sheets and thighs stretch out as straight as she can get them—oh sweet, painful relief.

now she can squeeze her legs closed around her tail. it's instinct to hump against it. ]

Hhah—

[ it's hardly words anymore, only noises. she lifts her chin and cranes her head back, looking up at him. beautiful, beautiful him. her lips are swollen and soaked, and she's smiling. ]

This is very nice...

[Her legs, seamed together, her tail caught in between. Her face, too, lips utterly glistening as she smiles up at him. For how obscene this all is, Henry's heart twinges again, reminding him with that lovely-yet-painful-yet-lovely ache that he loves her impossibly much.

Yes, he'll be privy to this entire sight, because he actually moves off of her, kneeling at her side, just so he can bend down and steal a kiss from her swollen lips. He'll rearrange himself again later to properly fuck her throat, but... he's gone too many minutes without getting to kiss her. Thanking her for her effort.]

[ you know how it is. Sprezzatura Vaux loves to kiss.

as he dips near, she closes her eyes, parts her lips, moves one arm to hug around the small of his back. it's a slippery, slow one. no hurrying. just as she had with his rim, she dips her tongue in and out of his mouth. leisurely.

soft, ] My favourite yet.

[ her favourite kiss. each one better than the last, forever. ]

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