Take Me For a Roll | By : megadeth425 Category: Pokemon > Het - Male/Female Views: 7626 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon and make no money from this story. |
I had some trouble getting the writing flowing again after Three Courses, so I wrote something short and completely different to help me get back into things. It's not quite as good as I hoped, but it did its job in getting me going.
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"It was great of Grimsley to pay for our dinner," Lance called to the half-open door linking the master bedroom to the bathroom. He lay on the bed, naked and with very little of his firm, lightly toned body covered by a blanket. His short red hair still carried the usual shape of it even after a night out, only slightly ruffled by the undressing and settling lazily into the massive bed of his date's villa. "But next time, can we have dinner with some of your non-creepy friends?"
"Shauntal and Grimsley aren't creepy," Cynthia shouted from the bathroom over the sound of running water. "They're just a little off-beat."
Lance groaned. "They spent half the night talking about sex. I was half worried you had invited them over for an orgy from how they had sex on their mind."
"I thought you liked sex." Cynthia opened the door to the bathroom and stepped out to find her pseudo-boyfriend/fuck buddy on the bed, waiting for her. She cocked a hip and pushed some stray hair behind her shoulders as she made her way over to him. A smirk crossed the right side of her mouth as she swayed with each step toward the bed, putting her bare body on display for Lance. Her knee-length blond hair seemed only tastefully dishevelled enough to appear arousing.
That drew a laugh from Lance as he opened his arms to greet her. "I like it with you, not when some creepy guy with a strange accent and no socks talks about it openly. Or how Shauntal implied you were the one always in control."
"That girl always has a knack for figuring out how people are in bed. It would be a gift if it wasn't so useless." She settled into Lance's arms and kissed him.
After a moment to think, Lance pulled his face from hers. "Wait, you're agreeing with her?"
Cynthia laughed now, much more than Lance did, and capped it off with a kiss on his nose--a patronizing sentiment that earned a sharp glare from him. "Come on. You spend plenty of time around ten year-old boys, and I can't remember the last time you were the dominant one. Oh, and you wear a cape. No manly man wears a cape." She leaned in for another kiss, but a low snarl caught her ears, and two hands grabbed her sides, making her jump. She started to say something to reassure him him, but it was lost in a yelp as Lance shoved a shoulder into hers forcefully and they rolled over. When the confusion settled, she was on her back, with Lance's hands on her wrists, pinning them to the bed."What are you do--"
A push of Lance's hips, and Cynthia's question died out in a surprised shout at the sudden presence of Lance's cock buried all the way inside of her. It was a quick and hard motion that sent a surge through her spine, making her push up against Lance's body so tight to hers she could barely move. Another thrust, and she only then realized how close Lance's face was to hers, locked in a scowl as that low, throaty snarl continued. His lips pressed to hers, and it was like no kiss she had ever felt before with Lance. Passionate wasn't the right word; their kisses during sex were always passionate, and in the throes of ecstasy they were intense, too. This was different though; forceful, possessive, assertive. Paired with their sudden tumble and his hard shove into her, she thought he may have taken her jokes to heart and set out to prove he could top her, and top her hard.
Her whole body tingled at the thought.
Each thrust was as strong as the last, never wavering in its attempt to pound her into bliss. Her body rocked with each impact of his pelvis into her, and the hard thrusts deep into her sent ripples of pleasure following. His hands tightened around her wrists and pushed them harder against the bed as all of his pent-up dominance burst out in a sudden display of sexual aggression. Each feverish thrust seemed to make the grip tighten just a little more, and she could barely move with his body pressed tightly against hers.
Then, just as soon as the wonderful new side of him had burst through to ravage her, he pulled out and drew his lips from hers. "You're always the one in control?" he panted, dragging her into a new position with him, wrapping a hand in her hair as he went. She found herself on her knees on the corner of the bed, not placed gently by any means, with her ragged, hot breath running down his dick, which seemed harder than she had ever see it before. Instead of coming up with something witty to follow up with, Lance merely pushed her head forward, jerking his hips to shove himself into her mouth.
In the four months since their semi-casual non-relationship started, Lance had never been too dominant. Not entirely submissive like some of her former partners, but he wasn't as assertive as she thought. The sex was still incredible--he had a gifted mouth and as much experience as she did--but there was a lack of force, of dominance. She wasn't a girl who liked it soft, and being in control was something she saved for her more inappropriate bed mates, and to suddenly be manhandled like that, to be treated rough and really get down and dirty, turned her on more than she had been in a long time. There was something about his strong grip making a mess of her hair in his efforts to guide her mouth that turned her on more than it should have. He could have just let her do it herself as usual, and be in for world-class head, but that wasn't what it was about. It was about dominance, and for that, just tugging on her hair as she facefucked her seemed to do more for both of them.
"Suck it," he groaned, the muscles in his knees tightening and the speed of his hand pulling and pushing Cynthia's head along his shaft quickening. His body leaned forward over her, and his eyes stared straight down her at her face, at her increasingly messy mane, at her mouth as his cock passed between her lips rapidly. Her mouth was warm and hot, and as each motion brought a little more into her, he found the back of her throat equally as pleasurable. The sight of her squirming, of his dominance over turning her on so much, filled him with satisfaction and urged him to do more, to keep up the rough sex and show her that he was in charge, always.
It still seemed unbelievable to her. Lance was shoving her face into his crotch, forcing his long, thick, and almost too-hard dick past her lips, and there was a tone to his voice that told her this wasn't faked, that she had sparked something inside him. It was a position she didn't think she'd ever be in, but not even remotely an unpleasant one; just a shock. She put on her best expression for him, feigning a sense of bewilderment and submission as she saw a fire in his eyes that told him he was the real deal, as if the burn on her knees and the regular tug on her hair wasn't enough to confirm that. She thanked her conditioned-into-nothingness gag reflex, which she hadn't been so grateful for since her partying days.
The tightening in his body, the particular rhythm of his breathing, and the slight twitch in his cock told her that he was close, but she wouldn't get to top off the intense oral treatment with a happy ending, as he suddenly jerked her head back to near-uncomfortable levels, leaving a few strands of saliva that sagged and thinned out before snapping entirely. They both looked at each other, breathing heavily, shoulders moving up and down in time with their attempts to regulate their breath. He looked down at her with ferocity he rarely showed in the heat of battle, and it cut through Cynthia so quickly that the subdued obedience in her face didn't feel acted, which both terrified and thrilled her. Their eyes locked just long enough that it was the most sexual thing they could have done without touching each other, the statement of who was in control. Lance seemed to not even care that he was doing it to prove a point anymore, all meaning to it being lost in the overwhelming, animalistic pleasure of their fucking--and what they were doing could not be called anything else.
Again, she found herself suddenly jerked out of place and tossed somewhere, this time impacting the wall and feeling the dull pain shoot through her body before her other senses could catch up. By the time she was even dimly aware of her location, his hand had dislodged from her hair and both wrapped around her. Not to hold her so much as to feel her up. Many times, when Lance was close to orgasm, they would stop whatever they were doing--Cynthia had a bit of an ongoing orgasm problem and Lance found it unfair to finish before she did--and he would pleasure her. Usually, it involved eating her out and making her dance on his tongue; something for her pleasure. It was gentle and selfless, and his tongue felt great inside of her.
It was different this time. Vastly different. His body was tight against hers, and the only reason she wasn't flush against the wall seemed to be so he could get at her tits, which he handled so roughly it made her feel nostalgic. The other hand was planted firmly on her thigh, grasping it so hard that his nails dug into the milky flesh. She squirmed and whimpered; his hand lay only inches from her vagina, which damn-near trembled with anticipation and longing. He had worked her up so much that to now that to tease her like that was cruel, even accounting for what they were doing. "Please," she whimpered, leaning her head back against his shoulder. "Oh, fuck, please. Don't do this to me." He could have just prodded her slit, and by Arceus, it would have sent her spiralling into bliss.
He just responded by digging his nails into the flesh harder, making her draw in a sharp breath and jerk about, thumping into the wall. In response, he pulled her back against him, even tighter now, and his wrist twisted, nails turning quickly and leaving what was sure to be a noticeable mark, and just short of drawing blood. She just barely held back the reflex to again pull away, instead pushing back against him, his warm body providing excellent resistance, as his erection pressed against her ass. His breath on her neck, his dick pressed against her, and his hands still getting physical with her breasts and thigh, did not help the greatly pent-up urges. Again, she tried to open her mouth to speak, to beg if she had to, but she couldn't find the words. Her throat tightened and only choked gasps came out. There may have been a "please" in there that had no chance in hell of being understood.
Not that it mattered. Brimming with impatience, Lance dragged her onto the bed and swung her carelessly forward. She stumbled onto the bed her knees slamming down onto the floor as there wasn't enough notice to jump or anything. The impact was certainly softer than when she hit the wall, but by that point she didn't particularly want 'soft'. Not to disappoint her, though, Lance came down on her hard enough to make up for her soft landing. In one motion, he grabbed onto her hips with the same grasp that left the marks on her thigh, slammed his cock into her so hard her back twisted a little and she managed to form a word again--"yes--and brought his body down against hers.
All of the foreplay--the blowjob, the groping--fuelled the fire so that now his thrusts were so powerful she could scarcely stop moaning for a second. Each thrust was strong enough to not give her aching, sensitive body the universe's worth of pleasure. His nails in her flesh, his rigid cock just relentlessly hammering into her, his heavy breath in her ear and on her neck. 'Intense' was the only proper word at that point to describe it all. She wanted to think back and find the last time she was so turned on, so utterly ravished and on the brink of such a powerful orgasm, but she didn't want to take away from what was going on by getting lost in memories.
Something had to give, and it had to give fast. Everything was running high: passion, excitement, anger, pure sensation; and it was growing incredibly exhausting. Neither relented, but frantic pace of Lance's thrusts seemed driven by physical need more than dominance at that point than any kind of dominance. Fortunately, it was still rough and heavy enough to make Cynthia squirm with what little room she had as everything blurred around her and she surrendered. Whatever problems she had with taking long to orgasm shattered as she thrashed about beneath him and burned under the explosive pleasure that seized her without warning. Her brief ability to form words vanished again as all that she managed were frantic sounds, choked moans and halves of words in particular.
As she thrashed and moaned what may have been his name, her body tightened and her inner walls convulsed. Lance threw his head back and thrust into her one more time as his sweet release came and he spurted while balls-deep inside of Cynthia. It seemed all of the energy and ferocity left with his cum, and after his orgasm subsided, he pulled away from her and lay on the end of the bed with her, breathing heavily.
"I can't believe I just..." Lance trailed off, taking a moment to regulate his breathing, letting everything sink in. His fingernails rebelled for being under the pressure they were, and his heart beat so fast he almost seized his chest to try and keep it inside. He had never been entirely passive during sex, but that was a far cry from the utter dominance he just displayed.
Cynthia rolled over to lean on him with a massive smile on her face and her eyes lazily half-open. "Incredible," she purred, finishing his sentence.
He looked at her and smiled, wrapping an arm and holding her close, stroking her forearm gently. "I don't know what came over me, it just felt so good that it wouldn't stop. What did you think of--" He noticed her smile curl up, changing from the elated, lazy smile to something devious. "What is it?"
"Played like a fiddle," she purred, kissing his lips lightly. "I was hoping that getting you riled up would make you take charge for once."
Lance jerked back a little and stared at her. "You did it on purpose," he snarled, and the hand that had been brushing against her soft skin suddenly stopped, the fingers pressing down harder on her. A tumble later, and Lance was again on top of her, his cock slamming into her hard she shouted out in elation. "And now, it's time for your punishment," he snarled, and Cynthia bucked against him, not even hiding her devious smile.
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