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

It was almost too good. His cock twitched against her and he groaned, biting at her shoulder. "You are a good girl," he said, and slid the glass in, slow and certain, watching it disappear an inch at a time.

The first few strokes were soft, almost gentle. And then he chuckled, low in his throat. "Wait-what did you ask me for, cherie?" He knew. He just wanted "Say it again."

He was treated to a loud moan, with zero effort to hold it back, as the toy finally entered her again. Because it felt like a 'finally' even though it had basically been like a minute.

But the slow strokes were torture. He knew that, right? They were ridiculous slow pleasure rolling through her, but they were also torture. Which made her almost glad to hear his question because clearly she needed to reiterate.

Her hand also ended up in his hair. Grasping, tightly. "Fuck me," she said. "I want you to fuck me." And that would've probably been enough but you know what, might as well give him extra incentive. "Hard. Rough. Until I come right here over your lap."

He should have put a condom on. Because those long seconds between when she came for him around the toy and when he pushed her over and made her do the same for him were going to be torture.

"Good girls get what they ask for," he moaned, and buried the toy inside her, his other hand filling itself with her breast. There was no mercy in his thrusts, loving the feel of it slamming into her.

Xanthippe was out quips and clever retorts. Effective immediately, she was exchanging those for a sort of continuous noise of pure pleasure. Moans and gasps and increasingly desperate little keening noises.

Because what else was it than pure pleasure to feel the toy pumping into and out of her, each of the smooth ridges along the shaft sending out ripples of sensation in quick succession? She'd loved it when it had been just her and the toy, and to have him have his merciless way with it was a whole other level of intensity.

This was not going to take long at all.

And than the One God for that because Hyacinthe wasn't sure how long he had in him. He pinched a nipple, bit down on her shoulder. "Rub your finger over your pearl," he whispered. "Touch yourself, Xanthippe, do..."

So he just wanted her completely overwhelmed, huh? Sure, she could go for that. By which the narrative meant that she probably would've gone with just about any suggestion of his, right now. It was easier than trying to form thoughts of her own. Especially with the stinging on her shoulder and his hand on her breast.

Sure, she was now rocking just a little bit against the toy as he slammed it into her, but that wasn't based on a thought, that was based on need!

She reached down, just above where the toy was stretching her. And her touch wasn't particularly gentle, because gentle wasn't cutting it, so, rough and kind of haphazard rubbing it was. And it turned all her noises into whines, her eyes finally closing and her brows knitting together with the effort of it all.

-- and then it all paid off, with a strangled sort of "oh, Hya, I'm, I'm" that just dissolved into her choking on air and then a deep, honestly pretty guttural moan as she showeved her hips down and every part of her body tensed right before the anticipation finally snapped into release with the toy buried deep inside her giving something solid for her muscles to flutter against, spent.

Hyacinthe bucked up against her back, needing to rut against something to take the edge off. As much as he wanted to throw her on the bed and just take off where the dildo had ended, he wasn't sure how sensitive she was. She'd gone hard, like he'd said, and it was possible she was just...done.

He'd wait to ask, giving her another moment to recover.

Though he did pull the toy out from between her thighs. And licked it. Blessed Elua, she was delicious.

And there he went, putting any residual confusion about his preferences aside, sliding the glass into his mouth to suck every bit of her juices from it.

Well, that was a sight for her to open her eyes to. She went from blissed out and drowsy to completely wide-eyed in approximately half a second.

"... Oh my God."

Could you die from terminal hotness? Because Xan was suddenly feeling like maybe you could. Also her mouth was dry.

She could still feel the occasional flutter of her muscles, something like a ghost of the toy and its impact, and that just made what he was doing now about ten times hotter because it made it real and ridiculously intimate, and, yeah.

She let out a whine.

Finally clean, Hyacinthe drew the toy from his mouth, massaging his jaw a bit. It had been awhile since he'd slept with anyone who required that kind of exercise.

"Xanthippe..." He said, voice dark and strained. "I am like to explode. Please, cherie, I would take anything..."

"I could --"

The words were out of her mouth before the thought was even fully formed, which explained how it got kind of cut off, for a moment, as her overloaded brain assembled the rest of the sentence. Of the offer.

"I could blow you."

Surpriiiise, Hya. College was a place of learning.

He would appreciate the surprise later. Right now, all he wanted was her sweet lips wrapped around his cock.

"Please," he said, with another inadvertent thrust up against her. "But I wish for nothing more than to bury myself in your lovely throat, cherie."

So maybe Xan could be the more clear-headed of the two of them, for once. Kind of. Everything about this, about him was a little too heady for her mind to be too clear.

She moved off his lap onto unsteady feet, kind of grateful that she could then immediately sink to her knees by the side of the bed.

Between his legs.

"Come on, get closer to the edge," she murmured, which was not a metaphorical thing but a request for him to move a little. Though maybe that metaphorical bit, too.

"Any closer and I may not make it to your mouth," Hya mumbled, because, yeah, the joke was right there enough that even his addled wits could make it. He slid towards the edge of the chair, feet firmly planted on the floor, cock dark and straining, tip glistening with fluid and begging for her tongue.

"Please, cherie," he groaned.

Xanthippe was surprised enough by the quip that a laugh escaped her. But it was rough and hoarse because she wasn't sure she'd ever seen him this hard before - at least not quite this up close and personal.

Her heart immediately beat faster again.

No hesitation. She wrapped her hand around his cock, near the base. Then she leaned in. Unable not to lick the fluid for the tip because it was there and so inviting, she did that first. And probably way too slowly for his aching state. But not to worry, Hya: she found she actually really, really wanted to feel him in her mouth. And that meant she pressed her lips against the tip of his cock, and then parted them, and the head of cock slid into her mouth, where her tongue swirled against him while her hand gave the rest of him some firm attention.

"Oh sweet Elua," Hyacinthe said all at once in a long, fast exhale. His hips wanted to move, wanted him to grab her face and hold it steady while he rocked into her mouth. Instead he whined and held tightly to the side of the chair, hard enough for his knuckles to go white, that he did not do the same in her hair.

Her mouth was a wet tease and her hand barely enough. He groaned, closing his eyes.

Tough, he was getting this at her pace or he wasn't getting it at all. Which meant that Xanthippe was for once the one putting some torment on him! Even if it was more for her own comfort, but still. She still liked being in control.

Besides, she could tell he was in distress. So after a brief moment to adjust - and a few firmer strokes where the top of her hand met her lips - she allowed him further into her mouth. Going slow but going far, too. Deep enough that she let the hand drop to his thigh.

The moan around him was involuntary. But probably hot.

Incredibly hot. He'd say that she wasn't helping his current state, but oh, her mouth was a heaven. He slid across the roof of her mouth and couldn't help but gasp; the tip brushed the back of her throat and he cursed aloud. It was hot and wet and tight, and he wouldn't have long before he spent.

"Xanthippe..." he managed in a groan.

She was most definitely not helping his current state! The whole idea was to somehow make his current state actively worse until it reached its logical conclusion.

Which, by the sound of it, wasn't far off.

She managed a quick glance up at him on the pull back (and seeing the look on his face just resulted in another moan) but then her focus was back on the main thing. She'd done it slowly once, now. She figured she could pick up the pace. Bobbing her head forward to take him deep, then sucking on him as her lips pulled back, gliding along his length.

And then doing it over again.

It didn't seem like she had any real intention to stop and not let him spend in her mouth. Nope.

For the sake of his own pride, he tried to hold out a little while longer. Xanthippe'd had so many disappointing experiences, he wanted to prove he was not cut from the same cloth. And, well, it had been years since he'd come at barely the first brush of lips along his phallus.

But that herculean effort netted him several more seconds, not minutes. With another quick, "Xan!" just in case he'd not gotten across his urgent message before, he spilled, back bowing with the strength of it.

He was so far from being cut from the same cloth that the fabric store he was from wasn't even in the same zip code.

So she was just grateful for the warning. It meant she could keep from any sudden movements or basically anything that could make this super awkward for herself, and could just focus on sucking him down.

She wasn't sure the taste was really anything she was into, but the utter hotness of I made this happen overpowered that by about a hundred times.

Hya collapsed back into the chair, hands losing their deathgrip to softly stroke her hair and face, a wordless gesture of gratitude and appreciation. "You have killed me dead," he mumbled, eyeing the vast chasm between the chair and the bed. He was sure he'd make it. "Your mouth has overwhelmed me and I am nothing."

Xan had swallowed, and now she gave him just a few last licks to, you know, help clean him up a little. Definitely not for a last little thrill for herself.

Then she pulled back and rested her head against his knee, smirking up at him. Still feeling the effects of what she'd done on her lips. "You were super hard." Sorry, it had to be said because she was familiar with how hard his cock could get, but feeling it in her mouth was a new thing. "I liked that."

She was also still riding the high of the past... several moments.

"It's because you were a very good girl," Hyacinthe said, raising his head up to look at her, a dark lock of hair falling into his eyes. "And the next time you get me that hard, Xanthippe, I am going to flip you over onto your back and slide into you and take my relief from your sweet cunt."

And then he managed to push himself forward and kiss her. "Though being able to taste myself on your lips is a pleasure I look forward to experiencing time and again, ma cherie."

It was patently unfair to say that many things that all made her shiver in such rapid succession. What was a girl supposed to do, huh?

Except reach up to meet him and then whimper against his lips.

"Oh my God." It was getting to the point where he would be free to assume those words just directly referred to him. "God, I wish I could make you that hard, like, all the time."

Normally, Hya would swoop Xan into his arms so he could deposit her carefully onto the bed. The best he could do now was tug on her hand while taking those few steps on legs that shook like a newborn calf's. "The memory of that show will keep me hard for months," he assured her, lying down onto the soft surface of her bed with another groan. "Sweet Naamah, I've never envied a glass cock before."

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