Emerie was enjoying this. Her pussy was pulsing with quivers, so wet she didn’t think it would be much longer until she soaked through her underwear and then her pants. Her nipples were enjoying his rough chest rubbing over them every time he breathed.
But, at the end of this, she knew there would be no relief for her. This was about Ingram and his release.
The longer she did this, her body telling her she was craving the monster dick she was currently petting, the more she wanted to peel off her pants and mount it. Or his fingers, or maybe even that big beak of his; it kind of looked good to grind on right now with its long and wide curve.
I really want to watch him come.
Last time he came quicker than this. She’d gone faster, harder, and had wrapped both hands around him.
She tried to emulate what she did the first time, but only with the one hand. Her change of tempo and strength caused a loud and rumbling groan to expire from him.
His hips jerked, his cock thrusting into her welcoming palm, and a delighted grin curled her lips.
With great effort, Emerie managed to wriggle her free hand between them until she was able to push off and wrap it around his meaty cock. She did have to slide back a little, almost falling off his thighs to the ground, but she kept herself there by her toes.
Using both hands, she moved them up and down the first quarter of him with hard, jarring, and swift strokes. She also twisted them, going in different directions, so he wouldn’t know what part of his shaft would receive her palms, thumbs, or fingers.
His head shot back as precum leaked and started to drip onto her hands. He gripped her shoulder like he needed something to hold onto, while his hips rocked faster.
“Gentle, Emerie,” he pleaded, and yet it had a titillating, growling undertone. “It feels too good.”
“Don’t you want to come for me?” she purred.
“Emerie.” Was it another plea? A warning? A curse? Right now, she didn’t care. Her name being called, like she was torturing him with the sweetest rapture, was a wicked sin.
She needed him to keep saying it until he roared to the world like he wanted every living thing in it to know she was the one who gave him release.
With wild, heated pants falling from her lips, she squeezed and massaged his jutting erection with every bit of her might.
A gasp tore from her when she was shoved to her back by him lunging forward with a snarl. Her legs slipped between his thighs as he knelt above her, folded his arms above her head, and began to thrust into her hands.
She didn’t let go, but her eyes widened in worry. However, she’d gotten what she wanted.
Between his lost, lust-hazed moans, he called her name. Over and over, ‘Emerie’ panted from him.
He also lowered, little by little, until he was almost lying on her. It forced her arms down until she was gripping the bottom half of him instead of the top, and his tentacles wrapped around her forearms to keep her to him.
Her arousal outshone her fear, but it nagged at the back of her mind. Even more so when the tip of his cock slid back and forth over her abdomen, riding her shirt up bit by bit.
With her arms trapped, she couldn’t yank it down.
Just when the bottom of the fabric caught over the tip and she thought he was about to rip it in two, he popped underneath.
“I-Ingram,” she called, hoping to settle the Duskwalker currently grinding his cock into her hands and burrowing into her stomach.
His arm tightened against the top of her head like he wanted to pull her against him, but instead, he pushed her down. Emerie squealed when his cock thrust up over her sternum.
Her head tilted back and her chest arched at the feeling of the hard, hot, and drenched girth slipping between her breasts. With how tight her shirt was around her sizeable tits, he had utilised a decent amount of force to get what would fit between them. He was pillowed, snugly cushioned, and his thrusts gentled at the enveloping softness he found.
Her arms were also bent at her sides because she was attached to him by swirling limbs, and it meant her hands were deeply inside their cavity. Two ovals embedded into the base of his cock were massaged by her palms, and her touching them slowed him even further.
Moans came from his throat, yet with her head so close to his chest, she could hear the tiniest rattling whines seizing his lungs.
“Oh shit,” Emerie moaned in return, looking down to see half his cock hidden underneath her shirt and moving back and forth. “Why does that feel so nice?”
Her breasts were sensitive, and the texture of his cock, the little pliable scales, the obvious flare of the head, the wetness and massaging hardness… all of it was sending her body into a lather. The mounds were moving around, and her right nipple was often grazed by him.
Her clit throbbed each time he drew back, only to make the inner walls of her pussy clench.
“Oh fuck,” she rasped out, her eyelids flickering when she thought she might actually come just from him fucking her tits. If her pussy didn’t stop spasming, she might find release after all.
“Oh fuck,” Ingram repeated, and she realised she just taught him a new way to use this curse.
Licking at the seam of her lips as she panted, she kind of liked him swearing like this. She wanted him to do it again. And whatever fight she had left in her was rubbed away by it, and from him playing with her breasts.
Instead of letting what she assumed were his seed sacs just move back and forth over her palms, she pressed her fingers in slightly to deepen the pressure.
His needy little whimper was the sweetest song, and his violent, full-body shudder was beautiful.
“Fuck,” he snapped out when she lessened the pressure. His chest shook as he fought to release the breath he’d been tensely holding. Since his hips hadn’t stopped moving, she figured he liked it. She did it again, and he yelped, “Fuck!”
His thrusts quickened and the sound of his claws gouging into the dirt crunched in her ears.
“Haaa. No more. I cannot take it.”
“You’re about to come, aren’t you?”
He had to be with how hot his sacs were and how they sunk momentarily inward like he’d clenched.
“Yes,” he rasped.
His kneeling stance widened as he curled around her below him, and his thrusts slowed. His whines were cute, even if his tentacles – tightly wrapping her arms until she thought they might bruise – weren’t.
His sacs tightened and almost disappeared, right as his cock swelled and stayed engorged. His roar was loud and strained, drowning out all sounds except for his pleasure.
Even her own stifled moan was lost when he started coming and liquid heat squirted over, between, and around both her breasts. He was making an absolute mess inside her shirt, but it was so warm and nice that she pressed her chest up for more.
Her tongue fell forward to help ease her pants out, as she thought, Come on me. Don’t stop. It was so messy and vulgar, but she wanted her shirt to be soppy and sticky.
He even came directly over her nipple, and she tried to rub it against his shaft with how much it was tingling.
He came so much it pooled in the crevices of her collarbones and dripped into the creases under her breasts.
When he was done, she was thankful he didn’t fall in an exhausted heap on top of her. He was utterly still for a few moments, but his relaxing tentacles gave her up as they grew languid. The bottom two gently tickled her abdomen.