It was morning. Jess wasn't sure how she knew it was morning. Cloying darkness still enveloped her, thick, humid air filled her lungs, and she pushed lightly at the warm cocoon surrounding her. It wasn't blankets. It wasn't a sheet. It wasn't pillows. The pliable surface was skin... his skin. Her skin. Their skin. Whatever it was... and it still felt... foreign. Three weeks had passed now, three weeks since she'd slipped into her lover's balls, and three weeks since they'd both fallen asleep.
Breakfast (partial ctf, ov/cv, unwilling prey
9 months ago
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