Quick fics

The Dresden Fucks

Harry thrust hard, burying himself to the hilt in Molly’s tightly clinging sex. He held himself on top of her for several seconds, giving his trembling erection time to get used to the sucking pressure of her womanhood. Not that there was any chance of that. Her tight teenage pussy milked his erection with every moment it spent inside her.

So he began rutting into her, reaming out her pussy with savage pumps. Molly gasped and dropped her shoulders, opening her passage completely to the shuddering thrusts of the older man’s cock. She pistoned her hips like a machine, rhythmically taking Harry’s prick to the hilt and trying to get more by working her ass against his groin like a stripper giving a lapdance.

“Fuck me harder! You’ve got my pussy burning! Ooooh! It’s on fire! Oh! Burning so good!” she keened, feeling her inner muscles convulsing around his manhood, clasping and pulsing, trying with all their might to suck him deeper inside her. “Keep burning me, Master! Yes! Keep my fire lit!”

Harry groaned with lust, not just at the feel of Molly’s cunt, but at her words of enjoyment. He might not be a gentleman, especially at the moment, but he always liked to know his paramour was enjoying having his cock inside her as much as he did. He pinched Molly’s small nipples between his fingers and pulled at them while ramming his aching cock into the tingling warmth of her sex. Judging from Molly’s moans, she might’ve enjoyed that even more than him.

Tess Black

Felicia came away from Odin to find she didn’t have a monopoly on lustful indulgence. It was like a fantasy of a Roman orgy, everyone a physical specimen, lustful and willing, making all her wildest sexual dreams come true at once. The men were letting the women know what they were there for and the women were making sure they were being used to the fullest. Even Felicia had to stop in shock. 

One woman was on her knees, blowing a man while another’s cock speared into her asshole. She loudly slurped, bobbing her head up and down on the cock in her mouth at the same pace at which she was sodomized.

Another woman was bent over a chair in the corner, her ass in the air for a goddess with a strap-on to fuck. Felicia bit her lip as she watched them. She’d give anything to trade places with either woman.

“What’s the matter, girlie?” a man asked her. “You’ve turned pale as a new moon!”

“It’s just a lot to take in,” she said.

“If anyone can take it all in, it’s you. What you need is a drink! Let Volstagg the Valorous be your barkeep. I’ll serve you your ale—then give you a berth for the night!” he concluded with a wink.

Volstagg was a tall, stout man. Despite his girth, he attracted more than his fair share of women. A voluminous share, one might say. But his cock was reserved for his wife, Hildegund, a luscious woman who had learned every sexual trick he had to teach and then started coming up with her own. There was a reason for their litter of children. Volstagg took his wife every morning upon waking and every night before bed. Usually, that was enough for him. But, having heard of Felicia’s agreement with Asgard, this seemed the perfect time to break with tradition.

Vamping

Jason takes his hands away from your eyes and you see nothing around you but open air and steel girders. No walls. No ceiling. It’s like taking a flight in an airplane with the top down. You’re on the top floor of an unfinished building. The ground floats below you like a distant planet.

“Ahhh!”

Jason is merciless. “I thought you liked heights. I’m pretty tall and you never had a problem being on top of me.”

“I’m alright,” you insist. “Thanks for the sarcasm. Let me catch my breath.”

He shrugs like it doesn’t matter to him either way. “I can take you back down if you wanna.”

“No, Jason. Let’s stay up here. Just hold onto me—I’ll be alright.”

“Or you could sit down. Whatever.” It’s almost adorable, how he’s trying so hard not to be concerned while he’s worrying about you.

“Just hold on. Don’t let go.”

“Right.” His grip is tight, sure, even too firm. But somehow that makes you feel warm. You wonder what he’s feeling. It’s so hard to tell, between his sarcastic stoicism and his steely cold flesh. 

His eyes are a blue bordering on gray, like a stone that’s been molded by the ocean until it’s smooth and worn. They don’t strike you as attractive, but as hard and powerful. You wonder how he fucks—if he ever gives up that rage of his, even when he’s inside of a woman.

You put your hand on his shoulder. He can’t object to that, can he?—not when he feels like the only thing for miles that you can hold onto. Which is why he brought you here, of course. To get you alone. You’re not frightened, even though he’s a predator, someone who feeds on people like you. You don’t know how much he cares, but you know he cares enough to make sure it feels good—whatever he does to you.