DEDICATED HENRATURRA POST;

[vecna]

(( when the sun sets, we're both the same ))

Comments

[vecna]

Hm.

[Hmm.]

So you want a show.

[velluminous]

I want you to feel what it's like.

[vecna]

[That actually does make him laugh, feather light.]

If you’re comparing me to the stiffness of a glass cock, I guess I should be flattered.

[He will, unfortunately, have to let her go for it… which he does, arm unfurling slowly from her.]

[velluminous]

[ such delicate tones for a man so given to violence. she arches her brow as he releases her from his ensconcing embrace. very easy to slip back, out of his lap, and sit upon the bedspread with her legs akimbo and the dildo pertly bobbing in between.

it does not look remotely realistic. but it does get the idea across. ]

I did not say that...

[vecna]

[It doesn't, but realism is hardly the point.]

No?

[Softly, slowly, he reaches down to touch the dildo, to wrap his fingers around it and slide it all the way down its length, collecting the remnants of her slick along the way. She has done this to him more than once, so the gesture is very easy to mimic.]

Mm, you're right. Not at all like me.

[velluminous]

[ too slender. too cold. not like him at all.

her throat gets tight looking down at this. she tries for a playful little thrust into the ring of his fingers. ]

But we will make do.

[vecna]

We do.

[She slides past his grip, easy and smooth. He glides it back up again, then down. Settles his free hand on her thigh, as he dips down closer... lower.

Kisses its tip. It tastes like her, too, faintly.]

Put your hands in my hair?

[velluminous]

[ pretty... ]

Put yourself on your knees.

[ she wants him just as he's put her many a time: face buried in her lap, backside raised, legs spread. back arched. the whole nine yards. ]

[vecna]

[Oh, she really does want to reverse the roles, doesn't she?

Well, then he shuffles back just a little, weight on his elbows, and settled... on his knees. By way of dipping down to tend to "her" cock, his backside will raise, too, but only once he's started in earnest.]

Like this?

[velluminous]

[ oh! how perfect. she sets one hand gently, lightly, at the back of his head. fingers barely slip between golden locks; it is a feathery caress. ]

Just like that.

[vecna]

[The tickly kind of caress, the sort that sends a tingle up and down the line of his spine — which is very much bared to her now, especially from this angle.]

Hmm.

[Well now, how to proceed? Knowing it's just for show and not necessarily pleasure makes it simple enough for Henry to decide on: starting things off as lewd as possible, so she gets to watch him "taste" the dildo from its base with the tip of his tongue... and then lave it flat against the glass, trailing it all the way back up to its tip.]

[velluminous]

[ he would be wrong about that. that this is not for pleasure. because, as he leans in and licks up the glass length, she releases a breath that for all the world sounds as pleasured as if it were her body. reaches slowly up (down?) the length of his spine, as he had once done to her. ]

Good.

[vecna]

[Oh.

Well.

If she's going to react like that.

Then there's a faint curve of a smile on his face as he drags his hand up and back down that length, settling again at its base, and licks... again. Slowly. Much more luridly. Eyes flicking up to look at her.]

[velluminous]

[ oh! is he having fun? ]

You are being coy.

[vecna]

[Is he spending quality time with her? Then yes, he’s having fun.

That actually interrupts his little show, though, making him almost-sputter out a laugh.]

You call this coy?

[velluminous]

Little bit.

[vecna]

[Maybe she’s a little bit right. Maybe she’s teasing.]

Anyone else would call this brazen.

[But no, he knows what she wants to see: his lips sealing around the tip of the cock, kissing gently and wetly. And then lowering, to take it in slowly, a few inches at a time.

So… he does precisely that.]

[velluminous]

[ can she help that he has such plush lips, and that she's sure they would look perfect wrapped around a pretty cock? indeed, when he begins to take the length, her chin lifts and her throat bobs in a dry swallow. oh, she was right to think that—like she always is, about everything.

the hand at his nape curls properly, now, and holds firm for every inch which glides between his lips. there will be no backing out of this for Henry Creel. she will see him hilted. ]

What is it when I am doing it, hm?

[ he can't answer. it's how she likes it. her free hand moves lazily, and the spectral, skeletal Mage Hand in her employ wisps into being. it grasps for the forgotten vial of oil and dangles it in the air just above the small of his back. ]

[vecna]

[He absolutely can answer, actually!]

Maddening.

[Ah, he about expected her grip to turn into one that holds him in place. She wants him… all the way down, no doubt, and Henry sees no issue with it. in another verse she stuck her tongue all the way down his throat so this is easy mode

Unaware or uncaring of the Mage Hand-guided vial hovering above him, he sinks down even lower, until the glass practically bumps against the back of his throat. His tongue flattens against its underside — not that she can feel it.

His heart feels in his ears again. Despite being naked to the room, there is a flush crawling down from his neck to between his shoulder blades.]

[velluminous]

And what else?

[ a flush that Sprezzatura happily traces with the tips of her nails. she cannot feel the physical pleasure of his tongue and his lips, but the psychological pleasure is playing havoc with her mind. she wishes—so much... she wishes she had the proper anatomy, just once. she wishes the glass were just a little softer, that she could press into his throat and fuck it the way she suddenly and wildly wants to.

pop!
the Mage Hand thumbs the cap off the oil. she digs her nails into his spine once, not too unkindly, before reaching up and taking the vial. the Hand turns palm-up and waits for her to pour the oil across its fingers. ]

[vecna]

[Oh. He definitely hears that pop. Someone’s playing with the oil — and the muscles in his back flex in accordance with the pressure of her nails, and instinctive anticipation.

Raises his head just centimeters enough to give his throat some leeway, then eases back down. He sucks, performs a swallow, but it really just is that when dealing with glass: performative.]

Beautiful to look at. Makes me want to fuck your throat properly.

[velluminous]

And you do.

[ until her jaw aches and he spends straight down her throat. no choice but to swallow. now, she wishes direly to be able to feel the squeeze of Henry's throat around the glass. she imagines it must be divine. like the tug and pull of her nipples inside his mouth, but magnified by the hundreds.

still, she rucks her hips forward just so. really seating herself—

the Mage Hand, glistening, extends it slim forefinger and glides it up his perineum. her eyes flick towards the mirror and watch. ]

[vecna]

[Indeed, he's got it easy — nothing forcing itself down his throat to swallow. Just the show of it. In his mind, it isn't so bad; just holding the gag reflex gently at bay. Perhaps one day he will know the effort she exerts every time she takes him into her mouth.

And then her hips go forward and he does have to muffled-sputter a little, faintly, because of course even this is not as easy as he thinks.

...But he takes her in, all the same. Shifts on his knees a little as he feels "her" cold finger glide against him.]

Such a tease.

/2

[velluminous]

[ well. the effect of this is not quite the same when he can continue talking and talking and talking and talking as though she isn't pushing glass towards the back of his throat. ]

[velluminous]

[ leans forward and smacks one of his buttocks. hard. ]

You wish to be dealt with by firm hand. Understood.

[ by its very nature, Mage Hand cannot be rough. but it can be swift, and that lazy trailing touch ends in a wet fingertip poised firmly at his hole. Sprezzatura grabs up his cheek and parts it so that she can see in the mirror as her Mage Hand suddenly and fully surges forward. the entire length of a spectral finger, immediately swallowed up and hilted. invasive and cold as Stygia. he is given no special consideration; each knuckle swallows up with a quick pop!

she pushes down on the back of his head with her free hand. ]