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

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."

Xanthippe snickered as she rose to her feet, thankful that it was only for a short while before she could also slump onto the bed, her head against his chest.

She'd seen his shaky legs, though. She was going to treasure that memory, too.

She was kind of beaming, honestly. "Good," she decided. "I mean... I want you to think of me, like that."

"Oh, I shall," he assured her. "That vision shall haunt my dreams and wake me up aching. I foresee a great many mornings when I'll be unlikely to move from my bed for a long while."

He hummed quietly, wrapped an arm around her. "I think 'twas your taste I shall remember the best," he added softly.

Xanthippe was snuggling up against him like a person who definitely didn't remember about their IHOP order and how soon it was bound to make it here.

Oh, no. Nothing existed right now apart from the warmth of his skin against hers and the softness of his voice. "Yeah?" she asked, quietly. "Because... you like it so much?"

"Do you not know how good you taste?" Hya asked, looking down to meet her eyes. "If I did not think I would well and truly die did I try to move, I would slide down and let my appreciation for your taste speak for itself."

"I can think of ways to do that where you don't have to move," Xanthippe couldn't help pointing out, because she was feeling both bratty and free enough to imply things.

"I think I got like a pretty good understanding before, too, though," she added. "I mean... You think I'm ever gonna be able to look at the toy again without seeing it disappearing into your mouth?"

"Best of luck just grinding on my open mouth, cherie," Hya chuckled. "'Tis about all I am good for right now I'm afraid."

He brushed her hair back from her temple with a gentle hand. "I'd hoped that would be as good for you as 'twas me," he admitted.

"Oh, it so totally was," Xanthippe told him, peering up with wide eyes, which was how you knew she was serious. "I'm gonna have such confusingly hot fantasies for a while, oh my God. I --"

And then, there was a knock on the door.

Xanthippe groaned.

Hyacinthe also groaned, his arm haphazardly searching for his pants...which were probably still out by the couch. "Have you something I can wear?" he asked.

"You can barely walk," Xanthippe complained (it sounded like complaining, anyway), already trying to roll off him in a highly uncoordinated way.

Yes, all their previous clothes were still strewn around the couch in the next room over, despite her earlier thoughts about doing the smart thing and bringing them over.

"Maybe I can get away with like, a hoodie."

"I'd not put you out..." He looked at her and whatever he saw in her face had him convinced that silence was the better course of action. "A bathrobe, mayhaps?" he suggested humbly.

Sometimes, it really was the best idea to just get out of the way when Voorhees women were trying to do something. Xanthippe shot him a grateful look for his suggestion, though, because she was already on her feet and kind of frazzled-ly looking around for anything easy that covered up enough of her.

There was another knock.

"I'm coming!"

She grabbed the bathrobe that was hanging by her closet door, and pulled it on as she disappeared back into the main room. The Uber Eats guy tried to flirt with her, but she was having none of it right now. So a moment or few later, she returned to Hya with her treasures: two takeaway bags with the IHOP logo on them.

"I should probably grab our clothes from the living room, too."

Hya was more than ready to back off and let Xanthippe do her thing. He didn't want her to feel like he assumed she would fetch and carry for him, but did she insist, he was only too happy to continue to be flopped on the bed.

"I shall set up our meal," he offered. "And when you return to the room with our clothing, your food will be ready for you and you needn't leave again."

"Thank you," she said, as she handed the bags to him. And she meant it - which, honestly, you could tell by the way she even said it, because politeness continued not to be a strength of hers.

Then she disappeared out the door again.

How many items of clothing did two people even wear?

Far too much, especially when one wanted to get at what was beneath the clothes.

Hya set about emptying the bags and arranging their food in a charming little semi-circle. He did it without thinking; in Terre D'ange, even the act of arranging food or setting a table was considered an art and thus, care was taken to make sure it was done pleasingly, even by Didikani bastards in Night's Doorstep.

Anything worth doing was worth doing prettily.

There were way too many clothes. But Xanthippe was pretty sure she got all of them, eventually, and the rest of the evidence that there'd been anything against the rules happening in the common area.

She closed the door behind her when she came back. Dumped the mixed bundle of clothes on the chair and the condom and the wrapper in the trash.

"Think I got it all."

And that was when she looked at what he'd done. And she smiled. "Oh, wow."

Hyacinthe glanced up from where he was finishing up putting the napkins into a small spiral at the center of the bed, upon which rested plastic utensils. "'Tisn't much," Hya said, though his grin was pleased. "Takeout does not offer much to work with."

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