Babydoll

She clinked his belt closed, his cock a thick, thwarted ridge tenting his fly. His eyes were gilded and foggy. His jaw was clenched. His hands moved on her feverishly, leaving firework trails on her skin. She put her hands on his biceps, enjoying the firmness of them under her gentle squeeze, and moved him, easy as a riverside reed, to sit on the stool in the corner. He slumped like a wounded man, pawing at her thigh. She turned back to the mirror and neatened the babydoll around her. It drifted over her body, mist over the sunrise. She glowed in the lights, as if she'd drawn his lifeforce into her. The loose fabric made her look full. "So," she said casually, "what do you think of this one?"

He spoke dreamily, his eyes following his fingers around her thigh. "I like it."

"More than the red one?"

"I like that one too." He lifted the lilac hem.

"You sure? Did you see that one properly?"

"Mmmm." He flopped forward and pecked her hip.

"Sweetie." She turned to face him and stroked his hair.

"Mmm?"

"Did you see the red one?"

His gaze flicked up to hers. There was a candle glimmer in his yawning pupils. "I can see everything I want to see right here." His eyes dropped back to her pussy, kindling warmer. He padded kisses from her right hip across the underside of her belly to her left hip, then around the top of her thigh to rest on her clit, like a dragonfly landing on a water lily. His eyes closed reverently. He took a deep breath through his nose. His exhale washed her in heat. His lips vibrated on her clit. She quivered. Her fingers curled in his hair. He kissed her.

"Babe..." she sighed.

"Mmmm?"

"I said we had to stop." The word "stop" came out with great difficulty, snagging on her throat, then her tongue.

"You said I had to stop." He murmured into her flesh, buzzing again. He licked her clit, like a kitten. "You can keep having whatever you want." He licked her again.

"No, we... Oh, we shouldn't..." Sadie whispered, burying her fingers deeper in his thick hair and pulling him closer. "We've already been in here too long. Someone might come."

The curl of his smile stroked across her sensitivity and sharpened her ache. His low husk electrified her. "Damn right, someone's going to come." He drew the flat of his tongue up her clit with a long, lustful lap. His eyes flicked up to hers with a glint of want and wilfulness. Her joints turned to sponge. Her nerves sang. He looked filthy like this, his hair a mess under her hand, his cheeks flushed, his gaze glimmering, his lips twisted, and his tongue draped on her and dripping. He looked corrupted. He looked like forbidden fruit.

He shut his eyes. He grasped her ass, dropping the frills to muss his fringe. He plunged his tongue into her folds. Pleasure cartwheeled up her body. She threw her head back and clamped her free hand over her mouth to stifle a stream of moans and mewls. She pressed into his tongue. He responded eagerly, stirring, sucking, lashing, looping. He roasted her in the humidity of his mouth, his jaw straining, his brow creased, his hands hard on her ass. His hair knotted around her fingers. His tongue explored her sensually, curiously, caressingly. She trembled and fought for breath, hot on her skin, hot in her stomach, in her chest, in her mouth. Pleasure blended the hues of relief and want, swirling into a confusion of colour behind her eyes.

She glanced into the mirror. His face was burrowing into her pussy, he looked like he was truffle hunting. She stood both proud and boneless, base and high, her reflection running liquid down the glass with her rounded, rhythmic rocking into his kisses. The babydoll dressed her figure like flowers on an altar. She beamed. The point of his tongue flickered on her rapidly. Pleasure showered her. She held her breath, clutching his hair. His shoulders tensed, his fingers digging into her flesh. She swept to the brink and pulled herself back. She felt him sense it. His murmur reverberated in her core. "I want to make you come, Honey. I really want you to come in my mouth. You look so good, and you smell so good, and you taste so good. I want you to feel good. Shall I make you feel good?"

The electric light dazzled her eyes as her head dropped back in reverie. The music tingled in her ears. "Oh God, yes..." she sighed into her hand.

"Fuck, I love it when you come. I get high on it." The last of his words tumbled into a soft moan and his tongue curled and snaked. She gripped his hair hard and pulled him desperately. He couldn't be close enough. She couldn't feel him enough. She would always want more of him. He groaned and panted, buffeting her with searing heat. "Oh, that's right, force me, smother me." He dropped from the seat to his knees. He gathered her to him and tucked into her like a starving survivor of a shipwreck. He took as much of her flesh into his mouth as he could, swirling his tongue to coat every inch of her in sensation, then flickering furiously on the peak of her clit. The pleasure gripped her, spun her. She was floating, she was coming undone. He whisked faster, delved deeper. The soft slurp of his mouth drove her to distraction. His flailing tongue was silk and sodden. Her skin was so fiercely alight that the babydoll felt like a cloak of fire.

She crested again, and this time she couldn't pull herself back. Her climax surged through her in wild waves. It carried her into a tumult of pleasure and bliss and relief. She bit down on her hand to stay quiet, her breath fleeing, her eyes filling with light. She arched her spine, as if she might take off from the floor and float into the air. The waves sloshed over her, then lapped, then lulled. Her body stilled and hummed.

Her weight slowly returned to her. She crumbled and Ben's strong hands held her up. He rested his brow against her belly and caught his breath. He tilted his chin to look up at her, nestled in the frilled hem of the babydoll like a Fabergé egg. His smile was doped, shining with her slick. His eyes glittered. Sadie finally loosened her grip on his hair. She cupped his face and stroked her thumb along the ridge of his cheekbone. "You are a very bad boy."

"Deal with me later." He gave her a wonderfully cheeky grin.

She smiled so wide it ached in her temples. She hooked his chin and pulled him up to stand. He moved like a marionette with loose strings. They dropped against each other. He brushed his knuckles up her arms.

"So," he said, kissing the top of her head, "are you actually getting any of this stuff?"

"Well," she kissed his collar, "this one seems to do the trick."

"I'll say." He reached around and pinched her ass.

She smiled. He pulled away, keeping his hand on her waist, stroking his thumb over the fabric. He bent and kissed her neck. "My treat." He slipped from her and to the peephole. He peered out of it warily, checking the coast was clear. He glanced back at her, winked, and sneaked out of the door. The last thing she saw of him was his mouth moving, sucking her taste on his tongue.

She turned back to the mirror and regarded the new lingerie one more time. She smiled at her reflection, luminous with joy and swirled in lilac, like all her dreams-come-true were clinging to her body. She loved how she looked after sex, equally ethereal and earthy, and this babydoll emphasised that beautifully, whispering mystically over the swells and gleams and blushes of her spoiled flesh. Dry ice over dirt. She smoothed her hands down the gossamer with a rich, satisfied sigh, delighting in her own soft shape and the ghost of Ben's adorably obsessed touch. The fine stroke of the fabric made her palms slide and her skin ripple, reigniting every clutch and kiss, wrapping her in love -- his, theirs, hers for herself. She broke into a dazzling smile and twirled.

This was originally written on 26th September 2020 for "Smutathon", a charity erotic writing sprint in support of Endometriosis UK. Minor edits made to post Feb 2024.