Bitch, I don't even know about your... [ enormous ] ... fucking... [ her legs wobble, completely unsure of which direction to fall now. ] stupid-ass tongue.
[ what a meet-cute, the shadow of that monstrous appendage falling across her thigh, w's widened eyes deadlocked warily upon it. does she even have enough pussy for that thing? the longer it drags across her flesh, the less sure she becomes somehow. obviously she's a sarkaz, she'd never pull any bitch shit like flinch or forfeit, but she is sorely tempted to climb right up the fucking wall the second she makes impact.
she's been hit before, which ought to surprise no one with a mouth like hers. the slap is hard but it's whatever and she'll prove that by defiantly leaning in for more. if all lappland wanted to do tonight was beat on her, she could settle right here on this sticky floor and nap like a sleeping princess at a royal spa.
but the biting, the clawing, the slow rip of her thong through every intimate part of herself — she feels it almost too much. w's teeth are gritting hard, her body involuntarily leaping beneath every long lick, her knees clapping lappland's shoulders every time she so much as senses that tongue twitching. her and her stupid fucking big mouth. it goes to figure that the second she shuts herself up and listens, she hears the one thing she's hoping to bank on. ]
... Savor, yeah. Y-You should savor that shit. Nice and [ hiss ] s-slow.
[ she's probably too tight even for a battering ram of a tongue like that, but she sure is starting to sink against it, her whole face glowing like a lantern. her fingers twitch and flex and pull in lappland's hair, the one smallest modicum of control that she's mostly using to angle lappland's head so she can watch, but even that is beginning to relent beneath that too-hot, too-wet push. ]
no subject
[ what a meet-cute, the shadow of that monstrous appendage falling across her thigh, w's widened eyes deadlocked warily upon it. does she even have enough pussy for that thing? the longer it drags across her flesh, the less sure she becomes somehow. obviously she's a sarkaz, she'd never pull any bitch shit like flinch or forfeit, but she is sorely tempted to climb right up the fucking wall the second she makes impact.
she's been hit before, which ought to surprise no one with a mouth like hers. the slap is hard but it's whatever and she'll prove that by defiantly leaning in for more. if all lappland wanted to do tonight was beat on her, she could settle right here on this sticky floor and nap like a sleeping princess at a royal spa.
but the biting, the clawing, the slow rip of her thong through every intimate part of herself — she feels it almost too much. w's teeth are gritting hard, her body involuntarily leaping beneath every long lick, her knees clapping lappland's shoulders every time she so much as senses that tongue twitching. her and her stupid fucking big mouth. it goes to figure that the second she shuts herself up and listens, she hears the one thing she's hoping to bank on. ]
... Savor, yeah. Y-You should savor that shit. Nice and [ hiss ] s-slow.
[ she's probably too tight even for a battering ram of a tongue like that, but she sure is starting to sink against it, her whole face glowing like a lantern. her fingers twitch and flex and pull in lappland's hair, the one smallest modicum of control that she's mostly using to angle lappland's head so she can watch, but even that is beginning to relent beneath that too-hot, too-wet push. ]