Dungeons and Dalliances

7.94 – Trials VI

Despite having been the one to loudly declare that they "should get this over with", Vanetta found herself frozen solid as she looked down at Natalie's cock nestled between her own legs. The red-haired girl had been secured to the wall in such a way that she was slightly lowered, her legs spread out and bent, waist at a level that her equipment was easy to access. So Vanetta had no problem nuzzling the girl's hot, saliva-slick tip against her entrance without having to stand on her tiptoes.

Natalie's cock. Rubbing against her pussy.

This was happening, then. It was silly to care so much; it was hardly much different than being pounded in the other hole. But a part of her couldn't help but fixate. A person only had so many firsts to give, and Natalie had claimed them all so far. And now one more. The most significant, in some senses.

Biting her lip, she pressed her hips forward, pressure growing, growing—

She lost her nerve and angled it downward. That lovely growing stretch disappeared, and the hot rod slid between her thighs instead. She clenched them together and slapped her stomach into Natalie's, finishing the movement as if it'd been her plan from the beginning.

A thigh-job. A warm-up. That was normal. Foreplay was normal. She wasn't buying time to work herself up to the idea, definitely not. Nobody could fault her for indulging in further foreplay.

As her hips worked into a rhythm, she internally lamented how her body was traitorously ignoring her conflicted thoughts. Despite the internal dilemma, it was doing everything it could to undermine her attempts to stay in control, her mouth letting out a loud, pleasured gasp as she felt the fat, warm meat of Natalie's cock slide between her tight thighs, rubbing into her lower lips with its girth and grinding against her clit.

Falling forward so that her forehead pressed against Natalie's shoulder, she let out a keening noise that was humiliating in how little it sounded like herself, in how much it reminded her that she was just another girl who had been corrupted by this stupid, amazing fat cock.

Her breath hitched as she rocked forward, the friction of Natalie’s dick against her wet slit sending sparks dancing across her. Each jerk of her hips felt like defeat—a defeat that she couldn't help but revel in. She told herself to calm down, to reclaim some semblance of control, but her body betrayed her with every shudder, every pulse of heat that tightened her stomach.

Natalie’s low, ragged moaning brushed hot air against her, further intoxicating her, their skin growing slick as Vanetta's hips worked faster and faster, rolling back and forth with squeezing thighs in motions that felt as heavenly for her did as they probably did for her partner.

Why was being the cause of those noises so enthralling? As much as the sensation itself, it was the control she felt over Natalie, mirroring her own lack of self-control, that enraptured her. The girl’s breathing was growing ragged and uneven as Vanetta worked, panting hard as her slick thighs extracted pleasure.

Her fingers dug into Natalie’s shoulders, nails leaving crescent marks as she ground herself harder into Natalie's dick, and when she pulled all the way back, the ridge of her cockhead would catch against her clit and give her a jolt that made her bite her lip to stop from crying out.

Just a little bit different of an angle, some primal part of her begged—and it would slip in. That easy. She could explain it away as an accident, even.

She found herself drawing her hips back, and at the apex of that motion, grabbed Natalie's cock and tilted it upward. She needed it; she couldn't help herself anymore, no matter her racing thoughts.

Pressing in, her breath stuttered, and the tip slowly breached her.

A sharp, sweet stretch that had her back arching and toes curling. She froze, legs trembling as she adjusted to that girth.

Inside. Natalie was inside her. The burn ebbed into a thick, insistent ache, and she pressed down further, slow and deliberate, her pussy clinging to Natalie’s cock as she sank deeper. Heat radiated from where they joined, the fullness so intense it blurred her vision. She gripped Natalie by the shoulder, finding it difficult to stay upright, and Natalie groaned, trying to buck forward, but the metal restraints stopped her. She couldn't start thrusting no matter how badly she wanted it. It was Vanetta's responsibility.

And so, she took care of it herself. She jerked forward, gasping as the motion drove Natalie's cock in, inch by inch until she was all the way sheathed. When they joined fully together, Natalie's tip pressed against something deep inside her that lit a cascade of fireworks behind her eyelids, and the strangest noise yet came groaning out of Vanetta's throat.

Too much. And not enough.

She moved tentatively at first, shallow rolls of her hips that dragged Natalie’s length against tender inner walls. The rhythm returned, hungrily, so much more satisfying with each stroke than when she'd only been hugging Natalie with her thighs. Each thrust stoked a low, throbbing fire in her stomach, her body clenching greedily around the intrusion.

Natalie’s gasping breaths tangled with Vanetta's own whimpers, the sounds raw and urgent on both their parts. Vanetta’s earlier hesitation dissolved beneath the crude, wonderful friction—the stretch, the grind, the way every push and pull of her hips made her more desperate for the next, the head of Natalie's cock grinding into spots that made Vanetta’s toes curl and her legs almost give out.

Her breath started to come in broken gasps, every slick slide inward punching a ragged moan from her. The stretch burned in the best way—a raw, intense pressure that melted her resistance into a pool of molten need. She thrust faster and faster, thighs burning and her vision blackening at the edges. She could feel every ridge, every pulse of Natalie’s cock as it throbbed inside her, and the wet, filthy sounds of their frantic joining drowned out that earlier voice in her head, the one that had been hesitant to give in. All that mattered was the coil tightening low in her belly, the heat spreading like wildfire until even her fingertips tingled with it.

"So good," Natalie moaned into her ear, her voice hoarse and unsteady. "So good. Fuck, Vanetta. Let me—let me finish inside. Don't pull out."

The words hit her like lightning. She had still been working her way up, but shamefully, she lost control right there. Her body clamped down hard, pussy spasming around the cock embedded within her.

"N-Nat," she moaned, her fingers digging into the girl's shoulders as her orgasm tore through her. She thrust even faster, desperate. "Do it. Please. I want it." Her hips jerked and stuttered with the flood of ecstasy, unable to keep a stable rhythm.

She barely registered Natalie’s choked gasp, the way her body tried to arch against the restraints. And then she felt it—Natalie's answer. The hot, thick spurts deep inside, a flood of warmth that filled her and filled her. That sensation, the thrilling knowledge that Natalie was finishing inside her, intensified her own climax, sending her spiraling out of control. Her legs quaked and she half collapsed against Natalie as her hips worked in short, desperate pumps, milking every drop she could.

A long time passed as she leaned on Natalie and gasped for breath. Eventually, she came down from her high, her chest heaving against Natalie’s, their breasts pressed together and sweat gluing their skin together as her trembling slowed. She didn’t move away immediately, her pussy still clamped around the softening cock inside her.

Natalie shifted, maybe trying to reach out, but of course, she failed to break the restraints. Her breath tickled Vanetta’s neck, short, uneven puffs.

"This is where I would kiss you, if I could," she half-laughed.

Moving without thinking—a recurring trend—Vanetta leaned in and accepted the offer.