It surprises him how much time she spends opening him up with purple-gloved fingers and a shitload of lube, and it surprises him again when she reaches into her bedside table and pulls out a dental dam. She eats his ass for what feels like hours, and he's only got a little bit of regret for the latex between them. The nitrile on her hand warms up when she jacks his cock, catches on the hair on his balls and pulls -- it hurts, but he likes it.
It hurts, and he wants more.
"Fuck me," he tells her. "Come on, please," and then he bites his lip.
"Beg," she says in a scratchy voice, and he does, his throat dry, the words catching -- but only because he heard her opening the condom, so he knows it won't be long. When she pushes her cock into him, holding his ass spread, he drops his head and closes his eyes. He thinks that the thrumming of his skin is a vibe in Ariadne's harness, but it's not -- he's holding his breath, and this is not a dream.
Eames comes all over her pale pink sheets, and collapses into his own spunk as she pulls out of him. Ariadne's breathless when she lies down next to him, her hair a cloud on the pillow and plenty of other clichés Eames would happily steal from literature, if only he could remember any of them. He turns his head to watch her roll off the condom and then peel the glove down over it. She drops the whole thing onto her floor, then runs her hand over her cock.
"Are you alive?" she asks, a smile curving her mouth, her cheeks pink.
"You must have abs of steel, darling," he says, and he knows he's missed the mark on a sated drawl when she giggles.
"Sure. You should make me come now," she tells him. "If you can move."
She keeps the cock on when he goes down on her; he doesn't bother with a dental dam, and she gets his whole face wet, sticky, delicious. She surprises him again when he realizes that she hadn't tucked a vibe into the harness at all; she's just turned on, she's just hot for her own cock, for fucking him.
Ariadne/Eames - she fucks him with a strap-on - 4/5
It hurts, and he wants more.
"Fuck me," he tells her. "Come on, please," and then he bites his lip.
"Beg," she says in a scratchy voice, and he does, his throat dry, the words catching -- but only because he heard her opening the condom, so he knows it won't be long. When she pushes her cock into him, holding his ass spread, he drops his head and closes his eyes. He thinks that the thrumming of his skin is a vibe in Ariadne's harness, but it's not -- he's holding his breath, and this is not a dream.
Eames comes all over her pale pink sheets, and collapses into his own spunk as she pulls out of him. Ariadne's breathless when she lies down next to him, her hair a cloud on the pillow and plenty of other clichés Eames would happily steal from literature, if only he could remember any of them. He turns his head to watch her roll off the condom and then peel the glove down over it. She drops the whole thing onto her floor, then runs her hand over her cock.
"Are you alive?" she asks, a smile curving her mouth, her cheeks pink.
"You must have abs of steel, darling," he says, and he knows he's missed the mark on a sated drawl when she giggles.
"Sure. You should make me come now," she tells him. "If you can move."
She keeps the cock on when he goes down on her; he doesn't bother with a dental dam, and she gets his whole face wet, sticky, delicious. She surprises him again when he realizes that she hadn't tucked a vibe into the harness at all; she's just turned on, she's just hot for her own cock, for fucking him.
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