sampippy | A Dorm Room at Voorhees Hall, Columbia University, New York, Sunday

Good thing she'd already been blushing a whole lot, because that meant there wasn't much of a change in the general redness of her face right now.

"Uhh."

Yeah, there was the short-circuiting in action again. She had to lick her lips and swallow and just... push both of her hands into his hair. (Okay, that part wasn't as necessary, it was just a thing she really felt like doing.)

See, he wasn't the first to suggest something like that. He was just the first to make it sound appealing.

... She probably should've tried to actually form some complete words, though, huh?

And if she wished, sitting in his lap could just be sitting in his lap. He enjoyed playing with her, regardless of whether his phallus was involved or not.

If naught else, he could do that while he was still recovering from a previous bout, keeping her mindless with pleasure in anticipation for the next.

"I believe you were going to tell me a story?" he teased.

Yeah, she figured that was the main difference: he wasn't suggesting because 'porn taught me to expect this' but because he thought she might - shock, horror - actually enjoy it.

She still pulled a mighty face at his teasing, though. Even if it was almost immediately broken by a laugh. "You're the worst." He was not. "If you think I'm gonna tell you anything about how hard I came on that thing while thinking about you, you're wrong."

He was not.

Though first she was going to kiss him.

He was hardly one to be offended by a kiss interrupting aught else, even when that 'aught else' was 'a very sexy story.' But he did chuckle through it, at least at first. "But Xanthippe," he said, still highly entertained, "how will I be able to recreate this scene do you not tell me of it first?"

"Eww, logic."

She was disgusted. So disgusted that she bit on his lip and everything.

And you know what? She was just going to stay about this close while she talked. Made it easier, somehow, to stay grounded in the moment. He was also more than welcome to keep touching her, because that helped too.

Also, it was just incredibly nice.

"So, like..." she started, breathing the words warmly against his lips. "When I first got it, and the first time I tried it out, it was a little after Valentine's, so I'd, like, gotten your flowers, and you were on my mind." She'd also sent him a birthday card in January, so maybe he was on her mind a little bit every month, but that was neither here nor there! "And like, you kinda need, uh, inspiration for something like that. So when I got under the covers with it, I thought about you."

She paused a little, to lick his lip.

Her voice dropped further into a murmur, but she was pretty sure she had his attention so completely that that wasn't going to be an issue. "I mean, specifically, I thought about you watching me... do that. Like, just thinking of the things you'd say? How you'd, like, tell me not to rush, and tell me how hot it was to see me start pushing it in, and, umm, how hard would make you..."

"Your imagination is very accurate, cherie," Hyacinthe told her, pressing kisses to her neck. "I want to see the way it slides into you, how deep it can go. I want to see how wet you are by the streaks you leave behind on the glass. I want you to be fucked so hard and well by it that I'm left jealous."

"Yeah, that's, that's what I guessed." It was still so much better to hear it from him in real life, though. She sighed, her eyes pressing closed. "So, yeah, I thought about you saying things like that and just, watching me. And, I was like ridiculously turned on, so it was like really easy to, like, f-- fuck myself with it?"

See, she could tell him about it but some words were still a little hard.

Like this next bit: "And um, what I found a really big turn-on, you know, when I was already super wet and everything, was imagining you telling me what a... good girl I was for taking so much of it in."

Which, okay, for some reason made her want to hide her face against his shoulder, so that was exactly what she did.

Which meant she missed his smile, which was kind of a pity. It was thoroughly filthy.

"Why, Xanthippe," he asked, voice low. "Do you want to be a good girl? Because I am starting to believe that you do." He pressed a kiss to her temple. "Do you want to be my good girl?"

No, she was actually fine without his smile. Because his voice suddenly did enough to make her believe that maybe, just maybe, it would be plausible for a person to orgasm just from listening to someone.

Which was to say, her brain went 'dsfrghjkl'.

"Yes."

Her voice sounded small and wavering only because she'd just gone so thoroughly week at the knees. So good thing she was already sitting!

Edited 2019-03-19 23:51 (UTC)

"Why don't you get it and show it to me," Hyacinthe murmured. "Let me see what we're working with."

Beat.

"What I'm going to be fucking you with, ma cherie."

"Um."

That was for how he somehow expected her legs to work.

But she was going to try, pulling off his lap and onto her feet, and what do you know? She didn't fall flat on her face! So she crossed the room, and went to her closet. In the very back of it, she'd hidden a box, which she pulled out, and opened, and took what was in it.

Then, she turned and came back to him, almost half-reverently presenting him with the toy. Mind you, it was a really nice piece of glass art in its own way, with its blue bumps and clear body.

And Hyacinthe, half-D'Angeline that he was, needed to stop a moment and just admire the handiwork and the beauty of the object. He felt the heft in his hand, marveled at how the glass could be so clear, so pure.

For a moment, it was like he'd nearly forgotten what it was for. At least until he turned to her and said, casually, "I cannot wait to lick your wetness of this."

Watching him, Xanthippe almost forgot what it was for, a little lost in the weird bit of pride that she'd picked and bought something that could have him looking it over with admiration.

It also meant she had a moment to gather her composure. Which in turn meant that when he spoke again, her reaction was a rough little laugh, instead of just... melting into a puddle.

"Hot."

Though the 'melting into a puddle' urge was definitely still there, too. It was actually living its best life where the words 'do you want to be my good girl?' were also still bouncing around in her brain. Which probably explained the shift in her expression, too: her dark eyes were sincere, expectant, and hopeful, as she asked, "Where do you want me?"

Edited 2019-03-24 13:10 (UTC)

"Ah, cherie, you shouldn't ask such open ended questions," Hyacinthe asked. "Because I am so tempted to say everywhere."

He looked at her again, eyes skimming up and down her body again, and then looked around for something that would suit his purposes.

There. Her desk chair. It had a back but no arms. Perfect.

"I want you to go fetch me that chair, Xanthippe," he said, voice easy but with the lightest hint of authority in it. "And I want you to bring it over here and set it down in front of me."

Xanthippe gave him such a brief look for that first answer, like she was masking the thrill she felt with being amused at how predictable an answer that was. But she did genuinely feel both of those things.

And what was better, she didn't question his desire for her, but rather accepted it as her due. Might have been just for this moment, but it was still progress!

Anyway. Desk chair, got it. She went to it, then brought it back to the bed where she could put it right in front of him.

There was nothing casual about the way she stood beside it. She didn't even try. "Is that good?"

"It's good," Hyacinthe said, letting a warm purr of approval color his tone. "Now I want you to sit. Legs spread. I want to look and see all of you."

No mistaking what he meant by 'all,' nope.

Not at all.

A shiver ran down her spine. And she felt weirdly breathless, again. But weirdly brave, too! Like, look at her doing this. Wherein 'this' was that she sat down, on the chair.

At first, she sat like she normally would. But, no, he'd said he wanted to see 'all of her' and that didn't really make that happen. So she slouched a little more, sliding her ass down closer to the front edge of the chair. There, when she parted her legs to either side of the chair, he could see all of her.

Including the slight glistening between her legs, yes.

Hya reached down with a lazy hand to stroke himself, eyes locked on that pretty gleam between her legs. "Beautiful," he murmured. "So now, tell me, cherie. Are you wet enough for this yet?"

He pressed the cool glass against her, rubbing the tip in slow circles around her pearl, but didn't try to enter her with it.

Xan's own gaze slid down and away from his face, as if hypnotized. His hand on himself was mesmerizing, what could she say? But, of course, then she felt the toy against herself and gasped. She was sensitive and the glass wasn't warm, and already this was feeling like one of the best ideas she'd had in a while.

"About to be."

Which wasn't a 'yes', but kind of a 'soon, depending'.

She was sure he had suggestions.

"Ahhh," Hyacinthe said, taking the glass away. He sat back down on her bed - lounged, really - and leaned back to watch her. "Let me see," he said. "I want to watch you ready yourself."

Jesus, talking to him like this was such a back-and-forth between feeling cool and sexy one second and then suddenly like she was about to lose her wits entirely the next. Her gaze snapped back up to his face.

"You -- you want me to play with myself?"

Goddammit, she'd so wanted to sound smooth and, lke, seductive with that. She even went with words that were easier to say than something a little more crude would've been. But no, she had to stumble.

Still, she felt like she was making up for that (to herself) with her little smirk, and with how one of her hands, which she'd rested on her thighs, was now sliding slowly along the inside of her thigh. Closer, closer.

"Not just play," Hyacinthe told her. "I wish to hear aught you are thinking about as well. I want to see you dripping and on the edge." His smile grew dark. "And then I want you to be a good girl and ask for it."

Okay, no, there were three states of being when talking to him like this. And the third one was just completely lost wits, as exemplified by the mostly unintelligible verbal keysmash of a noise she made under her breath.

"O-okay."

She didn't even mind the stutter there, because at least it was a word and not just a ridiculous exclamation.

She was keeping her eyes on his face. And swallowed, as her hand ran out of distance to cross. Her fingers ran lightly over her folds at first, just catching some of the wetness for a smoother glide. "Right now? I'm thinking about how hot you are." Inane, maybe, but she was just trying to get her brain back together. Kinda. The way she was easing her middle finger between the folds was a prelude to doing the opposite. "And how hot you have to be to get me doing this for you." The last two word were kind of a sigh, which she wished had been an affectation on purpose, but it was really just a happy accident.

"And when am I hotter?" Hyacinthe asked, unable to drag his eyes away from her hand, no matter how much he would have liked to look into her eyes. "When I'm bent over you, deep inside? Or when I'm kneeling before you, mouth wet? Which one makes you wetter, cherie?"

"Don't make me choose," Xanthippe whined, her face wrinkling up for a second because favorites were serious business. Or she was ridiculous, one of those. The finger pushed deeper, then pulled out slowly, trailing upwards and bumping over her clit. It made her hum out a low moan.

"But I like it when you kneel," she said, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue while her hand spread her slickness over her clit. "When you, like... When I feel your tongue but at the same time you, like, look up at me." She teased the bundle of nerves with two fingers. Made her a little bolder again. "Like you're hungry. Like it's as good as getting to put your dick in me."

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