Interlude w. Vul (Pts 1 & 2) (NSFW)
Contains depictions of sex, conniving tieflings, and elf girlfriends.
Vul sits on the sofa, flipping through the options on Netflix or whatever while I scribble out the last of a draft of an article I’ve said I’d write. Whatever it is, I’m bored with it and just… distracted. It’s just… look, Vul is hot, okay? Like properly hot. Like, sometimes it’s hard to concentrate hot. She’s just, you know, she just exists in a space and I’ll be like, low grade wanting her, I don’t know if it’s because she’s part fae or just because she’s just, her, but sometimes I just…
Okay, okay. Story. Right.
So I glance over and I can tell she’s just killing time, feet stretched out, propped on a cushion, looking bored with the telly. Or maybe that’s just what I’m telling myself, so I don’t feel bad about interrupting her. Because I am going to interrupt her.
Shifting on the couch awkwardly I straddle her legs, offering an awkward “Hi” as I lower myself to sit in her lap, legs folded under me, tail swishing lazily, half smiling.
“Oh!” Vul says, a little bit startled. “Hello!”
“Hn. Hi.” I repeat, a hand sliding behind her head, me leaning forward to kiss her. I’ve been wanting to do this all evening. “Hi. Hello.” I giggle a little, a little shuddery thing, and lean back in to kiss her again.
Vul leans into the kiss, the tip of her tongue in my mouth, her hands on my hips, one hand under her shirt, pressing her into the back of the sofa. She breaks the kiss, pulling the neck of my shirt away so she can kiss… no… bite… me in the soft spot where my neck meets my shoulder.
“aaah!” I inhale, sharply, the feeling of her teeth on me… invigorating. My tail curls lazily around her calf, my hand finding the hem of her shirt, slipping under as my eyes close, enjoying the sting of the bite. I love this… a fleeting thought, ‘I hope she marks me so people can see,’ causing me to flush.
I’ve begun rocking my hips, subtly, though I’ve not realized it. Vul… intuitive, sensual, empathic Vul… is unbuttoning my jeans. I shiver, leaning forward to kiss her again, anticipating-
“Why’d you have to wear those?” She says, laughing quietly, access denied by the dastardly denim. “For fuck’s sake.”
-well, fuck.
“…? Gods damn it.” I exclaim, softly. Half standing, half stumbling to my feet, I laugh. “It’s not like I planned this!” I say as I wiggle out of my jeans. “I dunno, I like these, they’re comfy.”
“Your comfy cock block jeans.” She teases.
I rolls my eyes, laughing again. “Whatever, they’re off now.” Kneeling, I hook my fingertips around the waistband of her leggings, tugging them off as well, my mind going in all sorts of directions, all sorts of ideas flitting about. I’d intended to return to my perch, but… hm. No. Not yet.
Fingertips, tracing gentle lines along her thighs, teasing, working their way slowly upward, inward…
Next Entry: Part 3